That Sunday

                It’s already 11:30am and I’m still in bed. Half of the day went by and the only thing I did was sleep. I feel I’m wasting time. But anyways, it’s Sunday and what is there to do in this town? I roll over to my side, pull the blankets over my head and close my eyes. It`s impossible to fall asleep again, because I`ve slept enough. Damn! The sun is coming in my room through the blinds and the sound of kids playing on the street is bothering me. It must be a beautiful day and here I am, going against the joy and excitement that comes with vacations.

                I manage to drag myself out of bed, splash some cold water on my face and go to the kitchen to eat something. Breakfast is my favorite meal, especially at grandma`s house. She had made cake, cheese bread, cookies. And there`s always fresh coffee. After that, who knows what time I`ll have lunch. And who cares?

                I have the tv remote in my hands when my cell phone rings. It`s one of my old school classmates. I hesitate about answering for a moment, because I don`t know what to expect from her and what excuse to give in case she has some boring or weird invitation. Finally, I force a smile, take a deep breath and pick up the phone. Leticia was always in a good mood, loved going out but also got in trouble sometimes.

“Hello?!” I say, still hesitating.

“Mari! Hi, how are you?”

“Good.” Lie.

“Long time, girl!”

“Yeah…” I don`t remember the last time I saw her, and honestly I don`t care.

“Listen, some of my friends are going to Dani`s grandpa`s ranch, to the waterfall, so I thought of calling you, you`re staying home alone all the time…”

“I don`t know…” It could be fun, but I smelled trouble in the air.

“Don`t worry, we`ll go in two cars. Just meet us in front of the elementary school in half an hour, ok? See ya’!” And with that she hangs up on me.

I think it`s nothing much, maybe I should put my worries on the side for a while, have some fun, see old friends again. Without thinking much I put some stuff in my backpack: bathing suit, towel, fruit, cookies, water; tell grandma and walk to the school. The town looks the same as it did on my childhood- the houses, the stores, the squares. But I don`t recognize most of the people, although they know exactly who I am.

I get to the school and everybody is already in the first car. Everybody but Gabriel, who is leaning against the second car. I never liked that guy. Actually, I had never talked to him. We were classmates for eight years. He always sat way on the back of the class and I sat on the first row. Eight years and I never noticed how cute he is.

“Mari, I`m glad you came!” Says Leticia, forcing me to take my eyes off his. “We were waiting for Julie, but she just called saying she is not coming. Our car is full, so you go with Gabriel, ok?” And off they go to the ranch.

I never know what to say in this kind of situation - when I don`t know a person well, when I`m left alone with this person, when I was taken with a sudden attraction for this person and to make it worse I haven`t had many conversations lately. I could have lost my voice and not noticed.

He gestures towards the car and I get in quickly, without a word. We don`t say anything for the next fifteen minutes. It was more than awkward when we heard a noise and the car started having problems.

“What was that?”

“Don`t know. We`ll have to stop and check.”

“Oh, great!”

“It`ll help more if you don`t complain. I`ll check the engine, you pay attention, if someone comes, ask for help.”

“I`m not complaining. And honestly I don`t think someone is going to come in the middle of nowhere.”

Sometimes I hate myself. And now is a good example. Why do I have to be so stupid? Why scare all guys only because an idiot left me? An idiot that I loved so much… But I know I have to forget. I try to think about something to start a conversation, but nothing comes to my mind. It can`t be the car, because I know nothing about cars. And that`s when he saves me.

“What a progress for a school newspaper editor, uh? Working on Ella magazine. Congratulations!”

“It`s just an internship. I`ll graduate in the end of the year. How about you?”

“Engineering. I still have one year to go.”

And so we talk for hours, with him poking the engine and me sitting on the edge of the road, chattering like a fool. We talk and talk and we know almost everything about our lives when he says we can go. I didn`t notice he was done because I was so distracted taking mental notes about what he likes to do, about his family and the classes he hates.

Talking for the rest of the drive, I don`t even see time passing. I don`t notice the pastures, so green this time of the year, the cows, the water streams. We get to the waterfall and everybody is swimming, laughing out loud, and drinking beer. We are all surprised when I sit on a rock under the mango tree and he sits by my side and puts his hand on mine.

(From the book Qualquer dia desses, originally written in Portuguese.)

One of these days

This is a text I wrote some time ago, and it turned to be the name of this blog and my recently published book. I decided to translate it, so that my non portuguese-speaking friends could read it as well. I have my own critics about the style and quality of writing (as well as the translation), since I changed and learned a lot in all this time, but it's a passionate text. Leave your comments below! 

One of these days I’ll leave. I’ll walk around, kicking stones on the street and ask “What? Is there a problem?” I’ll walk down the streets and won’t smile to anyone; no good evening, good morning, no hello-how-are-you-fine-thanks. Because nothing will be fine when I walk around like this. One of these days I’ll yell at you, I’ll tell you to go fuck yourself, because sometimes it feels good. One of these days I’ll walk in the middle of the street, not worried about cars, they’ll turn away from me! It’ll start to rain and I’m not going to hide; I’ll sing all night long until you come and embrace me, because sometimes it feels good, alright?

      One of these days I’ll leave, knock on your door and take you with me. We’ll go away from here and will never come back. Or will, if we want to. Come on, hurry up! The ship is waiting and the moon is full. One day I’ll stop the clock of life and all the time of the world will be ours. Don’t worry, there won’t be work, boss, deadlines, phones, family, neighbors. One of these days it’ll be only the two of us. Me and you. You and me. If it’s only me, it doesn’t work. So get ready, because one of these days I’ll take you with me. There will be no other way, you’ll be mine forever. One of these days.

    One of these days I’ll leave and take a bus. I’ll cry and laugh at the same time and it’s none of nobody’s business! I’ll stop somewhere I’ve never been or seen, but that I’m sure it’s my place. And I’ll be alone, because that place is mine and mine only. I’ll paint my lips and nails red, to match the wine. I’ll go out and watch the sun rise inside of me. The view is so beautiful from up here! But you won’t be with me, because you were afraid.

    One day… maybe tomorrow… or the day after… I’ll eat a pot of ice cream by myself, thinking about you. I’ll explode and in every corner there will be a little piece of me. Looking for you. It will be easier, right? One of these days, you’ll leave and never come back. Because you found me. One of these days… not today. 

(Ana Elisa Miranda)

Shaken lives

It was a nice Friday night. Natália was exhausted but she couldn’t let her best friend down on her birthday. Jennifer was hosting a dinner party at her house, only for close friends. She would go, stay a couple of hours, find an excuse and go home.

She had already bought her friend a gift, but stopped on the way to get a bottle of wine as well. It was her 29^th; they only wanted to have a pleasant and relaxing evening, saving the crazy celebrations for next year. She rings the bell and Jennifer opens the door, looking very excited.

“Happy Birthday! You look fabulous!” Natália said, handing the wine and the gift to Jennifer.

“Thanks. God, you look so tired!” Jennifer has never been a subtle person.

“Well, you know, long hours at the bank, Pablito’s been sick, uncle Tony is visiting… too much going on.”

“Let’s have some fun, then. Forget about all that for a night.”

They ate dinner, drank, laughed, drank, danced and drank some more. It was later than Natalia was planning to stay and she drank more than she should, so she called a taxi and went home.

***

Carlos came home from the funeral of a little girl who had drowned in the pool club. The family was devastated and so was he. He was too used to his job to get emotional or attached to people’s stories and family tragedies, but a little girl dying like that was… wrong.

He thought about his grandson all day. Same age as the little lifeless body he was forced to handle. When he learned his daughter was pregnant he got furious at her, but after the baby was born Carlos simply fell in love with him. Pablito and Natália were the most precious things in his life.

Every night he sat on Pablito’s bed, watching him sleep. There was an irrational fear that they were going to lose him. As Carlos watched him, he woke up crying, saying he had a nightmare.

“And a big monster ate the house…” 

“Shh, shh, it’s ok, it was just a dream, papa is here.”

“Stay here!?”

“I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe.”

“Mama…”

“Mama will be home soon. We’ll all have breakfast together. Does that sound good?”

“Mmm hum…”

“Ok, now back to bed. Good night, boy.”

“Good night papa.”

When he left Pablito’s room, his brother had fallen asleep on the living room couch, with the newspaper on his lap. He tried to wake him up, but he was very deep asleep, so he just put a blanket over him and went to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea.

***

Antonio hasn’t had vacations for years. Although he was now almost 70 years old, he enjoyed being active in his faith. He went on missions in poor countries, helped the needed communities near Santiago, taught English and soccer to the children in his parish. He had been very busy his whole life as a priest. But now it was time to rest. And see his family.

His only brother lived in Concepción with his daughter and grandson. They spoke often on the phone, but rarely visited each other. They got along well. For Antonio it didn’t really matter that his brother was an atheist and his niece a single mother. When he met the boy, he was delighted. Pablito was such a sweet and funny child! Natália was doing a great job as a mother – working hard at the bank, but spending all the time she could with her son, playing with him, teaching him, taking him to parks. Carlos also helped a lot and you could see he was proud of his family.

It had been a great week, but also tiring. It was Friday, the babysitter called early in the morning saying she was sick and Antonio insisted he could take care of the boy. Natália was worried and called a dozen times that day to make sure Pablito had his medicine, his nap, his bath. Uncle Tony was surprised at his own ability to handle the boy. As he was feeling better, they played cars, kicked a ball around the backyard, finger painted a picture of mommy. By the end of the day, Carlos came home acting weird and too quiet and put Pablito to bed. Antônio was so exhausted that he fell asleep on the couch.

***

Natália struggled to find the keys in her purse, took her shoes off, opened the door and walked in quietly (or so she thought). The house was all dark except for her son’s nightlight and before reaching her room she bumped into the coffee table and knocked off a picture frame from the shelf. Everybody was sleeping (Uncle Tony on the couch). It was 2am. She took a shower, brushed her teeth (ingrained habits she would never get rid of, no matter how wasted she was) and collapsed on her bed.

She thought she was having a nightmare or the worst hangover she ever had. The room was shaking so hard, the furniture was falling, and she heard so many different noises it was hard to identify. Screams, alarms, things falling and breaking. Her maternal instinct immediately flooded her and she was feeling awake and protective. She ran to her son’s room, he was crying at the top of his lungs, but at first she couldn’t see him. There was a lot of dust in the air; pieces of their roof were falling. As she got closer she saw his bed had been turned over and Pablito was sitting on the floor, a thin line of blood running down his face.

“Come here baby, mama is here, everything is ok.” Natália said as she scooped him up the floor and went looking for her father and uncle.

The earthquake lasted about one minute. Her house was still standing, but pieces of the roof were falling. She found her dad in the living room, trying to lift a shelf, but it took a moment for her to understand why – her uncle was under it.

“Get out of here! Quick! Take Pablito out of the house!”

“Is Uncle Tony ok?”

“I don`t know. Go get me help.”

“You have to get out of the house, it`s going to collapse!”

As she ran out to the street, chaos was taking place. It was dark, houses were collapsing, and people were crying, screaming and looking for their relatives. She was trying to find someone to help her dad, but all her neighbors were too busy.

“Help me please! My uncle is trapped under a bookshelf!” Someone had finally stopped to listen to her.

“Is that your house?” The man said, pointing at the yellow house on the corner. As she turned, she saw half of her house falling, all bricks and roof pieces.

“My dad and my uncle are in there! Please help me!”

“It`s too dangerous!”

“Please! They`re my only family!”

“Ok, you stay here, I`ll get some help.”

She waited, holding her son in her arms, while the men went into her house. She waited, and waited… praying that her father and uncle would be alive. Finally they came out of the mess that used to be her house. The two men that went in to help, and her father. She met Carlos eyes and she knew her uncle hadn`t made it. They hugged and cried silently for a moment.

***

Carlos had seen hundreds of funerals in his life, but he was never truly prepared to say goodbye to his loved ones. His father, in the biggest earthquake in history, that shook Chile in 1960; his mother, who lost her war against cancer; his wife, a few days after Natália was born. And now his only brother, a survivor, like him. Two quakes came and took a member of his family. And twice he survived. Something was starting to shake inside him.

For the next few days, there were several smaller quakes and people were spending the night on the streets or in the cars. Every day the number of deaths increased, there was no running water, no power, no food. The airports were closed, the roads cracked and some highways and bridges had broken and fallen down.

Natália, Carlos and Pablito were staying in a friend’s house.

“(…) one of the worst tragedies in the last 50 years. Chile is in state of catastrophe.” Natália saw President Michelle Bachelet saying on tv.

“What are we going to do, dad?”

“We start over, kid. That`s what we do. We start over.”

(Ana Elisa Miranda)

Loss

I knew it would be the last time I’d ever stare into his eyes. He was my love. He was my life. We had what most people spend their whole life looking for- true love, happiness, unconditional companionship and trust. We had been together for twenty seven years and there I was, sitting by his bed, holding his hand and looking into his sweet brown eyes. We didn’t talk. There was no need. We both knew what was going to happen.
His kidney problems had been getting worse this past year. The doctors said he needed a transplant. None of his three sons was compatible. His wife, living in her world of fantasy, didn’t even know what was going on. Then, it happened as a joke; my blood tests showed I could be his donor. I, the lover, the family intruder. Ironic.
He never promised me anything. And I was perfectly happy the way it was. In a way, I had more than her. He couldn’t divorce her, not with her disease taking away her sanity and health so fast. He was a good man. And I had his love, his attention, his time. Everything was just fine. For twenty seven years, we coped with everything- his family, my family, society’s judgment. But we were fine.
I never left his side during his treatment. And when I learned I could be his donor I didn’t hesitate. We had surgery and I gave him a piece of me. It felt so natural, the right thing to do. I recovered really fast, but he had some complications. They did everything that could be done, but he wouldn’t get any better. He struggled for life for more than a month and everyone already knew the inevitable.
I didn’t go to the funeral. I mourned alone staring at the blooming flowers in our favorite park. For a moment I felt lost. Life as I knew was over. I chose to live far from my family and close to him. I didn’t have kids. I was lonely. However, after so much time I learned a lot with him. And that’s what’s going to keep me moving. He taught me not to worry about tomorrow, because it’s enough to worry about today; And not to let my happiness depend on anyone or anything. With him, I found joy inside of me. I was glad that we have so much history, I was glad I could do what I did to help him and I was glad it was over. He was not suffering anymore. And neither was I.

(Ana Elisa)