de Rodica Bretin<\/p>\n
\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n … \u00cengerul \u015fi-a desf\u0103cut aripile, iar zarea s-a cutremurat, \u00eenecat\u0103 \u00eentr-o lumin\u0103 s\u00e2ngerie… Am lunecat \u00een genunchi, printre sf\u0103r\u00e2m\u0103turi, cadavre, cioburi, traverse r\u0103sucite; \u015fi-n t\u0103cerea apocaliptic\u0103 mi-am auzit ruga, dezn\u0103dejdea.<\/p>\n \u201ePentru ce?!\u201c<\/p>\n Nu to\u0163i fuseser\u0103 vinova\u0163i, de ce o singur\u0103 os\u00e2nd\u0103? \u015ei cine-i judecase? Cu ce drept?<\/p>\n Am strigat, ridic\u00e2nd pumnul spre cerurile din care El privea nep\u0103s\u0103tor. Atunci, \u00eengerul mi-a f\u0103cut semn s\u0103 m\u0103 apropii \u015fi am pornit, \u015fov\u0103ielnic, umbrindu-mi ochii cu palma. Nu-i vedeam chipul, trupul. Doar o siluet\u0103 de lumin\u0103. \u00cens\u0103 privirea \u00eei ardea, iar vorbele mi-au bubuit sub frunte:<\/p>\n \u201eSoarta lor va fi \u00een m\u00e2inile tale, Patrick. Numai tu \u00eei po\u0163i izb\u0103vi!\u201c<\/p>\n M-am uitat la mor\u0163ii din jur \u2013 erau at\u00e2\u0163ia, sute, pres\u0103ra\u0163i printre vagoanele zdrobite… Fiecare avusese un nume, o via\u0163\u0103. Nu eu le adusesem pieirea \u2013 cum s\u0103 le dau totul \u00eenapoi?<\/p>\n Am privit \u00een ochii de foc cu \u00eendoial\u0103.<\/p>\n \u201eCe s\u0103 fac?\u201c…<\/p>\n Zdruncin\u0103tura m-a dezmeticit; eram treaz, cu inima b\u0103t\u00e2nd nebune\u015fte. Dincolo de fereastra murdar\u0103, o gar\u0103 aidoma celorlalte: Mala. Am r\u0103suflat ad\u00e2nc, ca s\u0103-mi vin \u00een fire.<\/p>\n Co\u015fmarul. Repetat, aidoma \u2013 eu, \u00eengerul, trupurile sf\u00e2rtecate \u015fi \u00eentrebarea ce r\u0103m\u00e2nea mereu f\u0103r\u0103 r\u0103spuns… Trenul. Asta trebuia s\u0103 fie! Dup\u0103 at\u00e2ta vreme, m\u0103 s\u0103turasem.<\/p>\n Cump\u0103r\u0103-\u0163i o ma\u015fin\u0103, Patrick.<\/em><\/strong> Ideea m\u0103 ispitea, dar n-aveam destui bani. Poate \u00eentr-un an, doi…<\/p>\n Locomotiva a pornit iar\u0103\u015fi, cu scr\u00e2\u015fnete \u015fi opinteli. Urmau Grenagh \u015fi Blarney. Apoi Corcaigh m\u0103 a\u015ftepta, cu bastioanele \u00een\u0163esate de tunuri adormite pe vecie, cu str\u0103zi largi, case de gresie \u015fi gr\u0103dini, cu frumuse\u0163ea-i str\u0103veche. Dou\u0103 zile \u00een care s\u0103-mi trag sufletul: un r\u0103gaz.<\/p>\n Nu voiam. Am cl\u0103tinat din cap \u015fi b\u0103rbatul de l\u00e2ng\u0103 mine a trecut sticla mai departe. Compartimentul era plin, ca-ntotdeauna. Trei mineri, un p\u0103durar, veterinarul cel gras, dirigintele de po\u015ft\u0103 \u015fi nevast\u0103-sa. Am \u00eenchis ochii s\u0103 nu-i mai v\u0103d, s\u0103 uit c\u0103 Luni o s\u0103 m\u0103 \u00eentorc din nou, cu acela\u015fi tren, \u00eentr-acela\u015fi vagon…<\/p>\n Mala, ora\u015ful de pe Apa Neagr\u0103 \u015fi b\u0103tr\u00e2nul port: hotarele jalnicului meu domeniu. \u00centre ele, mine abandonate, gatere, ferme. \u015ei eu, pe drumurile colbuite, b\u0103t\u00e2nd la por\u0163i mereu ferecate. Zece ani de mizerie, printre s\u0103raci cu duhul \u015fi suflete ieftine.<\/p>\n Cei din Corcaigh m\u0103 priveau de sus, ca pe un ratat. Prietenii \u00eemi uitaser\u0103 telefonul, apoi numele, iar c\u00e2nd ne \u00eent\u00e2lneam se dep\u0103rtau \u00een grab\u0103, ferindu-se ca de o boal\u0103.<\/p>\n \u201e …Domnii vor s\u0103 cumpere?\u201c<\/p>\n Am tres\u0103rit. \u00cen u\u015fa compartimentului, o feti\u0163\u0103 ne ar\u0103ta co\u015ful: fragi, zmeur\u0103, afine.<\/p>\n Ceilal\u0163i nu p\u0103reau s-o vad\u0103. Minerii destupaser\u0103 \u00eenc\u0103 o sticl\u0103, p\u0103durarul se uita pe fereastr\u0103, omul de la po\u015ft\u0103 citea ziarul \u2013 doar nevast\u0103-sa a fluturat din m\u00e2n\u0103, de parc\u0103 voia s\u0103 alunge o musc\u0103.<\/p>\n \n De at\u00e2ta vreme m\u0103 c\u0103zneam s\u0103 v\u00e2nd. S\u0103punuri, aspiratoare, radiouri, juc\u0103rii… M\u0103 primeau b\u0103nuitori, ostili. N-aveau nevoie de fleacuri ca sclifosi\u0163ii de la ora\u015f \u2013 ei tr\u0103iau simplu, zg\u00e2rci\u0163i \u015fi nesp\u0103la\u0163i, asemeni str\u0103bunilor care-l urmaser\u0103 pe Brian Boru. La naiba! Mai lesne a\u015f fi v\u00e2ndut enciclopedii papua\u015filor.<\/p>\n \u015ei feti\u0163a \u00eenv\u0103\u0163ase lec\u0163ia vie\u0163ii \u00een luminata Irland\u0103. Se tr\u0103gea spre coridor privind \u00een p\u0103m\u00e2nt, f\u0103r\u0103 s\u0103 a\u015ftepte vreun r\u0103spuns.<\/p>\n C\u00e2nd l-a primit, a ridicat ochii: \u00eentuneca\u0163i, lucind umed, ca ai c\u0103prioarelor oprite din fug\u0103. Era uimire \u00een ei, ne\u00eencredere. \u015ei speran\u0163\u0103.<\/p>\n Da, voiam s\u0103 cump\u0103r. Un cornet cu fragi \u015fi unul cu zmeur\u0103. Ba chiar \u00eenc\u0103 dou\u0103, cu afinele care nu-mi pl\u0103cuser\u0103 vreodat\u0103…<\/p>\n \u00cen compartiment s-a l\u0103sat t\u0103cerea. P\u0103durarul m\u0103 privea ca pe un braconier ivit brusc dintr-o tuf\u0103, doamna \u015fi-a str\u00e2ns buzele, veterinarul a murmurat ceva neauzit.<\/p>\n Feti\u0163a a f\u0103cut un pas \u00eenainte \u015fi, \u00een lumina s\u0103rac\u0103 am v\u0103zut c\u0103 era descul\u0163\u0103. \u015euvi\u0163ele negre, zburlite, \u00eei \u00eencadrau chipul ca o aureol\u0103 de spini. C\u00e2\u0163i ani s\u0103 fi avut? Poate cincisprezece, dar p\u0103rea mai mic\u0103 \u00een rochia-i albastr\u0103, scurt\u0103, at\u00e2rn\u00e2nd pe trupul slab. Mi-a \u00eentins fragii z\u00e2mbind cu sfial\u0103 \u2013 \u015fi-n clipa aceea degete butuc\u0103noase i-au \u00eencle\u015ftat umerii, smucind-o ca pe o paia\u0163\u0103 de c\u00e2rp\u0103.<\/p>\n \u201eVagaboando! Cer\u015fetoareo!\u201c<\/p>\n Spr\u00e2ncenele stufoase se uniser\u0103 \u00eentr-una singur\u0103 sub cozorocul \u015fepcii, vorbele ie\u015feau \u015fuierate printre din\u0163ii galbeni \u015fi rari. Veterinarul d\u0103dea din cap cu \u00een\u0163eles, doamna se \u00eenviorase, minerii r\u00e2njeau.<\/p>\n \u201eLas-o, domnule, c\u0103 n-a f\u0103cut nimic r\u0103u…\u201c<\/p>\n Zdrahonul s-a r\u0103sucit spre mine ca mu\u015fcat de \u015farpe. Chipul i se schimonosise \u2013 furia, indignarea \u00eel sufocau.<\/p>\n \u201eTu ce te bagi? E cu tine?!\u201c<\/p>\n Nu era. Nici cu mine, nici cu altcineva. Doar o orfan\u0103 azv\u00e2rlit\u0103 de valurile sor\u0163ii pe \u0163\u0103rmuri sterpe, neprimitoare.<\/p>\n \u201e\u00cei pl\u0103tesc eu biletul.\u201c<\/p>\n P\u0103durarul a oftat cu n\u0103duf, obrazul buh\u0103it al b\u0103rbatului \u00een uniform\u0103 s-a \u00eentunecat. Doar feti\u0163a se uita la mine cu ochii aceia mari, tremur\u00e2nd. \u00cencle\u015ftarea ce-i f\u0103r\u00e2ma oasele firave a sl\u0103bit.<\/p>\n \u201eDar… nu se poate…\u201c b\u00e2iguia namila, v\u0103z\u00e2nd c\u0103-i scap\u0103 v\u00e2natul din gheare.<\/p>\n Mi-am scos portofelul, am num\u0103rat h\u00e2rtiile. Un miner a fluierat a dezam\u0103gire, gr\u0103sanul pufnea neputincios; \u00eens\u0103 doamna a hot\u0103r\u00e2t c\u0103 era destul.<\/p>\n \u201eIa ascult\u0103, tinere! Cine te crezi? Dac\u0103 e\u015fti a\u015fa de milos, ia-o acas\u0103 \u2013 dac\u0103 nu…\u201c<\/p>\n O fr\u00e2ntur\u0103 de clip\u0103 am fost gata s\u0103 m\u0103 ridic.<\/p>\n Chiar asta aveam s\u0103 fac! <\/em><\/strong>O s\u0103 m\u0103 duc la comisie, la judec\u0103tor, la orfelinat, oriunde, o voi \u00eenfia de va fi nevoie… Tot eram singur \u015fi ocolit ca un lepros!<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n \u00cens\u0103 ceva, poate anii de umilin\u0163e, poate lenea, m-a oprit. Lipseam de acas\u0103 cinci zile pe s\u0103pt\u0103m\u00e2n\u0103. Cu cine s-o las?… \u015ei-apoi, de unde bani s\u0103 cresc un copil?!<\/p>\n P\u00e2n\u0103 la urm\u0103 nu era prima, nici ultima nedreptate de pe lume. La ce bun s\u0103 m\u0103 pun de-a curmezi\u015ful? Feti\u0163a va fi dat\u0103 jos \u00een cea dint\u00e2i gar\u0103, iar poli\u0163i\u015ftii o vor duce la orfelinat. Cineva se va g\u0103si s\u0103-i poarte de grij\u0103. Nu era treaba mea, via\u0163a-mi fusese \u00eendeajuns \u00eentoars\u0103 pe dos.<\/p>\n Am b\u0103gat banii \u00een portofel, am \u00eenghi\u0163it anevoie nodul din g\u00e2t \u015fi mi-am ferit privirea. Doamna a sur\u00e2s mul\u0163umit\u0103, minerii au scos o nou\u0103 sticl\u0103, zdrahonul \u015fi-a \u00eembr\u00e2ncit prada pe coridor. Apoi, pa\u015fii, sud\u0103lmile s-au \u00eendep\u0103rtat \u015fi am auzit \u015fuieratul locomotivei, zbaterea v\u0103zduhului \u00eenchis \u00een capcana de piatr\u0103 a v\u0103ii.<\/p>\n Am ie\u015fit, mi-am scotocit buzunarele dup\u0103 brichet\u0103, am aprins o \u0163igar\u0103 cu m\u00e2ini tremur\u0103toare. De ce trebuiau s\u0103 mi se \u00eent\u00e2mple toate numai mie?! P\u0103cat, isp\u0103\u015fire, vina nep\u0103s\u0103rii \u015fi os\u00e2nda remu\u015fc\u0103rilor… Dar de mine se \u00eendurase cineva, vreodat\u0103? Nu-mi ajungea o Cruce, nu era destul de grea Golgota vie\u0163ii?<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n Brazi, st\u00e2nci, pr\u0103p\u0103stii, iar\u0103\u015fi brazi. \u015ei bufniturile: rare, \u00eenfundate, venind dinspre cap\u0103tul vagonului. O u\u015f\u0103 r\u0103m\u0103sese deschis\u0103, se izbea de toc enervant, cu st\u0103ruin\u0163a nesf\u00e2r\u015fit\u0103 a lucrurilor ce au hot\u0103r\u00e2t s\u0103 se revolte.<\/p>\n Din c\u00e2\u0163iva pa\u015fi am fost acolo, am tras de m\u00e2ner. \u015ei am v\u0103zut: co\u015ful spart, cornetele strivite, ca \u015fi cum cineva le c\u0103lcase \u00eenadins… \u015ei dac\u0103 bruta o b\u0103tuse, dac\u0103 avea s\u0103-i mint\u0103 pe poli\u0163i\u015fti?!<\/em><\/strong> Am s\u0103rit peste balta cleioas\u0103, trec\u00e2nd \u00een cel\u0103lalt vagon.<\/p>\n Un compartiment, altul \u015fi altul. Pustii, cu sticle goale \u015fi resturi de m\u00e2ncare pe banchete, pe podele, cu perdelele rupte, soioase. Ce a\u015fteptam s\u0103 g\u0103sesc?!<\/p>\n Atunci, am auzit sunetul. Aspru, \u00eengro\u015fat, ca o groh\u0103ial\u0103. Geamul toaletei fusese m\u00e2zg\u0103lit, vopsit \u015fi r\u0103zuit de-at\u00e2tea ori c\u0103 nu mai ascundea nimic. \u015ei m-am uitat.<\/p>\n La feti\u0163a fr\u00e2nt\u0103 peste vasul de font\u0103 \u00een care tremura o mla\u015ftin\u0103 sc\u00e2rboas\u0103, duhnitoare. La zdrahonul care se \u00eenver\u015funa asupr\u0103-i, cu pantalonii l\u0103sa\u0163i \u00een vine, cu \u015fapca dat\u0103 pe spate. La rochia aruncat\u0103 pe jos. \u015ei iar\u0103\u015fi la coapsele sub\u0163iri, la \u015foldurile \u00eenguste \u015fi mugurii mici ai s\u00e2nilor \u2013 o ne\u00eemplinire neluat\u0103 \u00een seam\u0103 de cel care \u00eencle\u015fta, strivea cu turbare.<\/p>\n \u00cencremenisem. Buzele mi-erau uscate, obrajii \u00eemi ardeau de ru\u015fine, de vin\u0103. R\u0103suflarea namilei se iu\u0163ise, izbea tot mai \u00eencr\u00e2ncenat trupul de alabastru, s\u0103lt\u00e2ndu-l de la podea, iar eu st\u0103team acolo, uit\u00e2ndu-m\u0103, f\u0103r\u0103 s\u0103 fac nimic, f\u0103r\u0103 s\u0103…<\/p>\n Ridicat\u0103 pe v\u00e2rfuri, cu \u015fuvi\u0163ele-spini lipite de frunte, feti\u0163a scrijelea zadarnic pere\u0163ii m\u00e2nji\u0163i. O clip\u0103, o mie… Deodat\u0103, \u00eentre dou\u0103 smucituri, \u00eenainte ca menghina m\u00e2inii p\u0103roase s-o apuce de ceaf\u0103, a \u00eentors capul \u015fi m-a privit. Cu mil\u0103.<\/p>\n Zguduitura, urletul metalului sf\u00e2rtecat au umplut lumea. Pe urm\u0103 n-a mai fost dec\u00e2t t\u0103cere.<\/p>\n …C\u0103zusem \u00een genunchi, printre sf\u0103r\u00e2m\u0103turi, cadavre, cioburi, traverse r\u0103sucite. \u00cen vagonul r\u0103sturnat era praf, era fum. De undeva r\u0103sunau gemete, strig\u0103te tot mai stinse, iar l\u00e2ng\u0103 mine, omul \u00een uniform\u0103 z\u0103cea cu \u0163easta preschimbat\u0103 \u00eentr-un terci ro\u015fiatic.<\/p>\n O siluet\u0103, \u00een penumbr\u0103: feti\u0163a, cu trupul lucind stins sub v\u00e2n\u0103t\u0103i \u015fi m\u00e2zg\u0103. A venit, uit\u00e2ndu-se la \u0163eava care \u00eemi ie\u015fea din p\u00e2ntece, la m\u0103runtaiele r\u0103bufnind din ran\u0103. Era lini\u015fte \u00een ochii aceia de rubin. \u015ei ne\u00eendurare.<\/p>\n \u201eVoi, oamenii… Crede\u0163i c\u0103 vi se cuvine totul, c\u0103 vi se iart\u0103 toate… Nu \u015fi de noi<\/em><\/strong>!\u201c<\/p>\n A ar\u0103tat spre zarea \u00eenecat\u0103 \u00eentr-o lumin\u0103 s\u00e2ngerie \u015fi i-am v\u0103zut venind, cu l\u0103nci, spade \u015fi plato\u015fe, mul\u0163imi nenum\u0103rate, ce aveau s\u0103 se abat\u0103 asupra lumii.<\/p>\n \u201eDar El nu va \u00eeng\u0103dui…\u201c,\u00a0 am \u015foptit.<\/p>\n \u201eNu ne mai pas\u0103!\u201c<\/p>\n Ochii ei v\u0103rsau fl\u0103c\u0103ri, aripile i s-au desf\u0103cut.<\/p>\n \u201eDormi, Patrick\u201c, a spus, \u00eenainte s\u0103 porneasc\u0103 spre ceilal\u0163i.<\/p>\n Apoi s-a l\u0103sat bezna.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" de Rodica Bretin \u00a0 … \u00cengerul \u015fi-a desf\u0103cut aripile, iar zarea s-a cutremurat, \u00eenecat\u0103 \u00eentr-o lumin\u0103 s\u00e2ngerie… Am lunecat \u00een genunchi, printre sf\u0103r\u00e2m\u0103turi, cadavre, cioburi, traverse r\u0103sucite; \u015fi-n t\u0103cerea apocaliptic\u0103 mi-am auzit ruga, dezn\u0103dejdea. \u201ePentru ce?!\u201c Nu to\u0163i fuseser\u0103 vinova\u0163i, de ce o singur\u0103 os\u00e2nd\u0103? \u015ei cine-i judecase? Cu ce drept? Am strigat, ridic\u00e2nd pumnul […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1208,15,1003],"tags":[1209,1115,1219,588],"class_list":["post-11198","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-egophobia-46","category-proza","category-proza-sf","tag-egophobia-46","tag-proza","tag-rodica-bretin","tag-special-proza-sf"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6DakB-2UC","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11198","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=11198"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11198\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":11225,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11198\/revisions\/11225"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=11198"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=11198"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=11198"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}