– Oh my God, you don’t recognize me?
– Mister Josef, is that you?
– Yes it’s me, God forbid me!
– Well, what on earth are you doing full of mud under the bridge?
– What should I do? I had something to drink and I lost my hat, I was looking for it … I bent giving him my hand and drew him outside, obviously without hat. We greeted and went each on his way.
Wasting so much time, the water grew in huge quantities, becoming true torrents. To get at the embarkation place I had to climb up to “Poderei”. The lamp faded again. I was looking for other lights, of my workmates, that were heading to the same place. I was passing near Alexander, Lipan and Sovre’s houses, which were built on a hammock lip, which made the road lower than the houses. They were in the same shift as me. Alexander’s house was all lighted. I was heading with my eyes at the ground looking to avoid as much as I could, water. Reaching, in the end, the car, it seemed that people were grouped and were whispering among themselves. All this grouping and crew discussions had a lugubrious atmosphere. I said hello and asked: “What are they whispering about?” They stared at me, after that one of them asks me:
– Through were did you come at the car?
– Over “Poderei”, at Alexander, “Sovre” and others, places.
– Was there any light at Alexander?
– There was. And what if?
– But, didn’t you ask yourself why was there light at Alexander, if he’s the driver for a week? Did you take a look at their nut tree?
– Who cares to look at a nut tree when one’s heading for the shift?
– There was where Alexander hung himself …
Then I realized that if I had drawn myself up, I would have stared up, I could see him hanged. With no other words with the feeling of a huge despair, of losing a man, a very good mate and mine digger, but whom did not bear the “discharging” shock. It seemed that also the car was sick, it was hardly getting up to the mine. In the car I was snooze following the road with its curves, in my own imagination, to the mine. The engine was turned up to maximum; there were the last hundred meters before stopping.
Thursday, August 13th, 2009 | Scriitor: carti online
Category: Foreign in my life
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