sexta-feira, 20 de novembro de 2015

Chapter 1 - Long lonely trip (part 5)

(...)
I finished the soup and suddenly my eyes were feeling heavier and heavier, and I was having troubles keeping them open. Finally, the tiredness of the trip was catching up with me and not all I wanted to do was falling asleep in the living room. To fight the urge to sleep I got up, picked up the bags and went to see if I could find my aunt. As soon as I got out of the living room, I bumped into her “I’m so sorry aunty!” “It’s ok sweetie! Don’t worry! Now follow me”, she commanded, “I will lead you to your room!” and while walking in front of me she kept talking, “You must be really tired! With the long trip and the harsh clime that you got during your way here! I prepared the same room that you used to use to sleep when you were younger. I hope you don’t mid, but that room is here downstairs and the others are upstairs and it isn’t so easy for me to go there, as I am old and my bones don’t help me that much.” “Don’t worry! I sleep anywhere! If I had to, I could sleep in the living room with a blanket!” “Nonsense! We have plenty of rooms in the house! You wouldn’t sleep in a sofa if we have that hypothesis! Anyway, here we are! Your room. Not sure if you remember, but you have a door inside your room on the left side that leads to the bathroom, so be comfortable. I left some towels on the bottom of your bed. Now I will leave you alone and if you need anything, my room is at the end of this hall. What I ask you is don’t leave your room during the night. You have a heater that has been on since yesterday morning, so every time you open this door the heat will come out and I don’t want you to get the flu. So, don’t leave the room, agreed?” I nodded “Good! Good night! Sweet dreams!” and then she left.

I opened the door and got inside, turning on the lights. The room was simple and it was painted on brown tones that sent the sensation of calmness, contrary of the landscape that I could see from the magnificent window. The snowstorm had restarted and was even more hostile then before. Thank god, I was already inside. Then I remembered my car “Poor you…tomorrow I won’t be able to find you in the middle of all that snow.” Throwing the blankets aside, I got inside the bed and fell asleep in no time. This was dreamless night, at least of what I could remember. 

quinta-feira, 19 de novembro de 2015

Chapter 1 - Long lonely trip (part 4)

(...)
On my way here I got lost a couple of times in the highway because I should have gotten out in one exit and missed them and that, so I was compelled to ask a couple of police officers the best way to get to the village. They asked me where I needed to go and I sated “Dupond Mount” then, they looked at each other and then asked again if I was sure of my destination. After saying “yes” a couple of times they ended up saying the best way to get there, and the last ones even helped me put the chains in the wheels because of the snow. Then wished me a safe travel and got back inside their patrol car with some wired expressions on their faces. “You might be the first new visitor in twenty years!” “Oh aunty, you are exaggerating! The last time I came here was at about…” “Twenty hears…”, she said while putting more wood in the fireplace. The flames were bigger now and were casting shadows on her face that were making her look more scarier and older, much older. “Your parents and your brother – and later you – used to come here every holidays. Then your grandparents died and you simply stopped coming here. No explanation was given or even a letter written explaining your sudden disappearance. I’m not blaming you – after all, you were only five or six when they died – or anyone for a matter of fact. I’m just saying that a letter would have been nice…” she was now walking along the living room contemplating the paintings and the photographs that were hanged on the walls and on top of the furniture. Her eyes looked like they were trying to recreate all of those moments that froze in time when those photos were taken. Suddenly I remembered and grasped one of my bags and opened it. Inside of it was the letter that my aunt had sent me a photograph to “prove” who she was, after all, she was right: I stopped seeing her when I was five or six so “it was normal if I didn’t remember her”. “Aunt Maude!”, I called. “Yes my dear?” “I brought back the photograph you sent me because I thought you might have want it back.” “Thank you!”, she said when handed back the photo, “You know, this is one of my favourite photos! We took this one on the day that you and your brother went for the first time swimming. You were three and he was six and you two really wanted to learn how to swim, I must say you were…persistent!” “You can say it aunty, we were stubborn! Still are! At least that’s what everyone says about us!”, and then we laughed. It felt good. “How are your parents and your brother?” “They are fine! My parents are on vacations in India and my brother…I don’t even know where he is to be honest. He emailed me saying he got your letter but saying that I should apologise in his name to you because he couldn’t come for the reason of some secret project he was working on”, she fell on the sofa, “Aunty! Are you ok?”, I said at the same time that I jumped of my chair. “Yes! Don’t worry! It is just…it has been so long that I don’t see you two that I really thought that both would come! After all, I sent your brother the same letter I sent you.” “Yeah…but he really tried to postpone everything to come with me – trust me, I saw it – but it was impossible!” “Oh well…next time it is I believe!” “Yes aunty. Next time we will both come and we will bring our parents and it will be like in the old days!”. She agreed and smiled, and then she urged me to end eating the soup while she would go see if she had prepared the right room for me to sleep. She got up excused herself and left.
(...)

quarta-feira, 18 de novembro de 2015

Chapter 1 - Long lonely trip (part 3)

(...)
The door slowly creaked open showing a delicate old lady on the other side. The wind made its way into the house making the lady’s curly hair to flow with it. With a warm smile she urged, “Come on in sweetie! If I recall correctly it will start snowing in no time again!” She was right; it was going to snow, again. I smiled and nodded getting inside the house. It was at a pleasant warm temperature inside of it, contrary to the harsh stony cold aspect of the façade of the house. The fragile lady drove me to the living room saying, “Follow me sweetie! You must be starving and freezing cold! I shall get you some hot soup and some blankets that I have in one of the chests upstairs!”, and when I tried to stop her she waved her hand saying, “Darling, you are a gest in this house! Please get comfortable while I get you something to eat! Moreover, take off those wheat clothes and place them in front of the fireplace to dry. That way you can use them tomorrow if you need. Do you bring warm cloths like those that I wrote? If now I can get you some! They might be a bit old-fashioned, but I’m sure they will fit you…”, and I knew I had to interrupt her “I’m fine aunty! Worry not! I paid extra attention to your letter and packed some extra warm clothes!” She wasn’t convinced yet and I had no idea of what else to say so she agreed “Well, then I will warm up some soup so that you don’t have to go to bed starving! I can almost guess what you ate in your trip.” pointing to some crumbs that I had stuck to the ends of my hair. A smile appeared in my lips, I had forgotten that she was always so sharp-eyed; sometimes it was a bit scary I must confess.
She indicated me the living room and I placed down my bags in the corner seen and opened the big black one because that was where my clothes were. Then I took my cute and warm pyjama and striped down my soaking wheat clothes. Before dressing up, I placed myself in front of the fireplace. The flames were beautiful and had so many different colours. I stretched my arm and opened my hand, I knew it was stupid but I really wanted to touch and feel them, but I knew that I would get burn so I got my hand back and looked down. With the heat emanated from the fire place, I was already feeling my bones again and, when I moved my fingers, they weren’t hurting like before so I dressed up the pyjama so I wasn’t naked when my aunt got to the room with a bowl of soup. “Eat it all dear! The trip was longer than expected because of the snow…”, “Yes”, I answered, “but it wasn’t that difficult to drive here. I just had to follow your indications, and after all, this looks like the same as I remember!” “Yes, we don’t have much visitors here in the village. Not even in the summer! But I guess we never did!”. She sounded sad; I mean it must be sad to live in a village where everyone avoids. I mean, at least it looked like it. 
(...)

terça-feira, 17 de novembro de 2015

Chapter 1 - Long lonely trip (part 2)

(...)
Now I know I was getting to my destination. I got to the bottom of the highest mountain and now I was in a God forsaken road sided by barren wasteland. Now all I had to do was “follow that road until you see the river right in front of your car and then” I had “to turn left onto a dirt-road”, said Aunt Maude, but at that moment it was more of an muddy-road, and I had prayed for that not to happen. “Don’t forget that you must drive on that road until you see a run-down entrance of the mine right in front of you! Make sure it is a mine because there are lots of decomposed fences and fallen trees on top of those and then you might think it is a mine but it isn’t and you might get lost forever! I’m not exaggerating! Don’t forget that you do not have phone signal in those woods.
Then you should turn right – not left because you don’t want to cross in that dangerous bridge that is on the verge of falling into the river – and you must drive carefully along that almost gone road until the village.
After crossing the village until the church, you should drive a few more minutes to west and there you will find my house, you will surely remember it!
Have safe journey sweeties and be careful because it might snow!”
Wrote Aunt Maude with love and all I had to do was to follow those instructions precisely and I wouldn’t get lost…I hoped.
                It was about 1 am, or at least that was what my phone was showing, and I could already see the old, yet majestic house on the top of the small hill that was located outside the small city. It had a small lamp next to the door and a big old rusty bell underneath it. “The old spooky house” like I used to call it when I was younger even though I knew pretty well that its name was “Mansio”, that – if I’m not mistaken – is the same name as in Latin for “house for travellers to rest”. If you ask me, I wouldn’t have given it that weird name because, first, it doesn’t make any sense! I mean, it is nothing more, nothing less than a big old-fashioned house – it must be like ten thousand years old (of course I am kidding, but I can’t be that far off) – in the middle of nowhere. As you can imagine they don’t have visitors nor travellers, so whoever baptised the house with that name didn’t think it through.
I parked the car outside the house, near the place where – back in the day – people used to tie their horses. I zipped up my jacket and putt on my beanie and gloves I got out of the car and went to get my bag.

I walked up to the front door of the house carrying all my belongings with my not-so-strong arms.
(...)

segunda-feira, 16 de novembro de 2015

Chapter 1 - Long lonely trip

The road at the top of the mountain was slippery and unsafe for driving, but I had to get to the other side of that mountain range before twilight. It was a matter of life and death, literally! If I stopped for a second, my chances of getting to my destination safe and sound would become slimmer and slimmer until disappearance. The snow was falling at an alarming rate and was making it even more difficult to drive because the snow was accumulating at the sides of the road, sometimes losing balance and falling to the road. The wind was harsh and was making its way through the cracks between the doors and the rest of the car. My hands were holding the steering wheel so hard that my knuckles were white, and because of my old car’s fantastic and fully functioning heating system, they were also turning blue. Condensed clouds of warmth breath were coming out of my mouth and nostrils as I was breathing blurring the windscreen. With an old piece of cloth, I cleaned it with ease and kept driving.
The sky was getting darker and darker as the time was passing by. The snow seemed to be slowing down as I reached the top of the mountain. When I got there, it was pretty much twilight but the view was stunning.  As I zipped up my warm jacket and jumped out of the old rusty blue jeep, I could see the frozen river that went on and on through the middle of the mountains until their very base and then it went through ice-covered fields. It was beautiful and it deserved a photograph if I wasn’t already freezing cold and with small icy water drops on the tip of my nose. When I realised that I ran to my car and closed the door with a bit more strength then necessary and the sound echoed through the whole area. Scared with the sound produced, I cringed[1] in the driver’s seat. The sound was preposterous and far scarier than a door slam. It seemed inhuman, I mean of course the slamming of a car door slam is inhuman, but you get the point. Buried in my seat I started the car and drove off.
Now it was dark, the road was even more dangerous because I was descending the mountains and it was full of winding curves that were getting on my nerves, and then my stomach started making weird sounds, but really weird sounds! Like Loch Ness’ weird cries! I decided to eat something. I carefully took my feet from the gas pedal and rested it on the car mat while the other one was on the brake pressing it with conviction every time I needed it. My hand slipped to the back seat to grope my backpack. Once found, I brought it to my lap and with one eye on the road and the other on the bag, I tried to find what was supposed to be my dinner. However, my favourite special chicken homemade sandwich was nowhere to be found. I was getting sadder and sadder until, underneath my thermal bottle filled with warm coffee – which unfortunately was ending – I touched something rough; that felt like a baguette covered in aluminium foil and pulled it out. Threw my bag to the co-pilot’s seat, ripped off the foil, and took a bite: it was still delicious. I devoured the meal while paying extra attention to the slippery tar road that, if I wasn’t mistaken, was coming to an end giving place to a rocky road that made my car shake a lot and I could hear all the screws trying to keep everything in place. I got to that road and it was just as I remembered: everything was bouncing and I was jumping up and down in my seat.
(...)





[1] To shrink in fear or servility.

domingo, 15 de novembro de 2015

Dias no esquecimento - Final...?

E então lá comecei eu, desde o inicio mesmo, quando encontrei as cartas. Passando pela minha decisão idiota de seguir Harry. E tudo desde que atravessei a parede e todas as pessoas com que contactei – pois não me pareceu correto deixar os danos laterais escondidos a este senhor. Harry manteve-se calado até ao momento em que falei sobre a sala que se falava ou pensava em alguma coisa e isso aparecia. “Vejo que descobriram a sala das necessidades…!” “O que é isso professor?” “É exatamente o que a tua amiga descreveu. Ela é um bocado complicada de encontrar, pois muda de lugar várias vezes, logo não se pode encontrar através de nenhum mapa. E faz exatamente o que foi descrito: dá-te o que precisas quando precisas. Mas vamos continuar esta história porque eu sinto que já não falta muito para eles chegarem.” E continuamos toda a história – que já não falava muito para acabar – e contamos o nosso encontro com o rapaz de cabelo loiro oleoso – cujo nome era Draco Malfoy. Claro que não deixamos de fora o facto de termos ido comprar bilhetes para eu voltar para casa o mais rapidamente possível para não arranjar mais complicações. “Então, tu só queres voltar para casa e esquecer isto tudo para não arranjares problemas a ninguém? Isso arranja-se bem…” “Professor não!” disse Harry levantando-se rapidamente “Não pode fazer isso, não há outra maneira?” “Lamento muito Harry, mas esta é a única maneira que causará o menor número de danos colaterais…peço desculpa…!” “Alguém me pode explicar o que se passa? É que eu estou um bocado perdida…!” “A única maneira de resolver isto é… Obliviate!”.
Caí num sono. Ouvi um grito ao longe e depois novamente aquela palavra e nada mais.
(…)
O sol quente e brilhante batia na janela do meu quarto e acordou-me. Sentia uma ponta de preocupação por algo, mas não me lembrava o que era. Alguém batia à porta lá em baixo. Com os pés tirei os cobertores de cima de mim e espreguicei-me na beira da cama de tal maneira que a camisola que eu estava a usar subiu deixando o meu umbigo apanhar um bocadinho de sol. Aquilo fez cocegas e gargalhei. Agarrei num casaco que estava na cadeira onde costumava pôr a minha roupa ao fim do dia e estranhei uma mala de viagem lá pousada, afinal, eu não tinha planos para ir viajar…nem tinha vindo de viagem. Queria ficar mais um bocado a pensar o que é que estava ali a fazer a minha mala, mas o bater na porta no andar de baixo estava a ficar cada vez mais impaciente. Desci então o mais depressa possível e abri a porta. “Harry? O que é que estás aqui a fazer?” “Não sei…não me lembro, mas sei que tinha que cá vir porque tinha algo de muito importante para te falar…” “As tuas aulas não começavam no inicio de Setembro?” “Sim, mas pude vir a casa uns dias… Era só para perguntar se estava tudo bem…” “Sim está! Muito obrigada pela preocupação!” “Está bem! Adeus!”, e despediu-se e foi-se embora tornando aquilo tudo muito mais estranho…

sábado, 14 de novembro de 2015

Dias no esquecimento - Capitulo 10

“Harry! Então, como vão as coisas?” “Vão bem professor.”, respondeu sem se atrever a virar. Ele estava a tentar controlar o tremor da sua voz, e devo acrescentar que estava a fazer um ótimo trabalho. “Não me queres explicar o que se passa aqui? O Draco apareceu no meu escritório clamando que tu tinhas uma muggle na tua companhia no nosso mundo.”, pela primeira vez ouvi aquela palavra a ser pronunciada de maneira calma, sem nenhum preconceito associado. Eu tinha que falar e tentar explicar-me, não ia arranjar problemas a Harry ou a qualquer outra pessoa. Virei-me então de modo a poder ver com quem é que iria falar. Quando me virei o meu lenço caiu-me da cabeça para o chão e pude ver um venho senhor com uma postura muito ereta e com uma barba tão branca e tão comprida que, se não estivesse presa com um elástico a meio, fundir-se-ia com o seu cabelo. Examinou-se calmamente através dos seus óculos de meia-lua dizendo em seguida “É tua amiga Harry? Não tens mau gosto não…!” piscou-me um olho  e deu uma grande gargalhada em seguida. Aproximou-se de mim e agachou-se e disse: “Creio que isto lhe pertence menina…” entregando-me o lenço vermelho. A medo peguei no lenço e comecei a falar “Senhor, a culpa não é do Harry, eu é que não consegui resistir à curiosidade que se sobrepôs e segui-o até Hogwarts e, segundo ele, pus toda a gente desta comunidade em perigo porque sou uma muggle” cuspi o nome como se também se tivesse tornado também um insulto no meu vocabulário “e não devia estar aqui e que se fosse descoberta – como, pelos vistos acabei de ser – acabaria por arriscar ser morta e iria mandar o Harry para um lugar qualquer que começava por Az…e não me lembro do resto do nome!” confessei e continuei “Eu sei que se calhar é o que acontece a toa a gente que quebra essa regra, mas eu juro que não queria fazer isto! Só queria saber em que escola é que o Harry andava e poder conhecê-lo melhor porque os tios deles nunca me deixam falar com ele e só querem que eu fale com o filho deles e…” o senhor levantou a mão lentamente, “será que ele percebeu que eu posso ter inventado um bocadinho lá pelo meio?”, pensei. Algures durante o meu discurso, Harry tinha-se virado e estava agora com um ar pasmado que saltava entre mim e o senhor de barbas brancas. Um simples sinal para o seguirmos foi o que fez e nós obedecemos.

Fomos para uma pequena sala com umas poltronas e uma pequena mesa com chá a ser servido por nada! A chaleira estava a flutuar e a servir o chá sozinha. “Sentem-se!” incentivou o professor. Um pouco a medo lá nos sentamos e ele disse simplesmente, “Agora com calma contem-me a história toda para ver se eu consigo entender o que se passou aqui e quais são as opções menos radicais que temos. Mas apressem-se porque o Draco não vai demorar muito até encontrar o Lucius – o seu pai”, explicou-me “E este não vai demorar muito até convocar todo o Ministério da Magia para resolver este pequeno “problema” digamos”.