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<\/p>\nde Dan Apostol<\/p>\n
Eram chiar \u00eenainte-i, \u00eens\u0103 femeia nu \u015fi-a ridicat ochii de pe revist\u0103. Numai felul \u00een care \u00ee\u015fi trecuse degetele prin p\u0103r, d\u00e2nd din umeri….<\/p>\n
M-am a\u015fezat mai \u00eencolo, pe o banc\u0103 de unde puteam s-o p\u00e2ndesc. Nu eram singurul. \u00cen dreptul femeii \u00een rochie verde, to\u0163i \u00eencetineau pa\u015fii. Un b\u0103tr\u00e2n \u015fi-a curmat cioc\u0103nitul bastonului, o gr\u0103san\u0103 a r\u0103mas clipe nesf\u00e2r\u015fite cu capul r\u0103sucit \u00eentr-o parte, apoi, ca trezit\u0103 din somn, a \u00eempins cu at\u00e2ta putere c\u0103ruciorul \u00eenc\u00e2t ro\u0163ile au scr\u00e2\u015fnit. Iar ea citea, nep\u0103s\u0103toare. Nu-i luase \u00een seam\u0103 pe ceilal\u0163i, nu i-a v\u0103zut nici pe adolescen\u0163ii ce p\u0103\u015feau m\u00e2n\u0103 \u00een m\u00e2n\u0103, fata cu buzele str\u00e2nse, tr\u0103g\u00e2ndu-l pe b\u0103iatul care privea mereu \u00een urm\u0103, ca vr\u0103jit.<\/p>\n
C\u0103ci femeia aceea era altfel dec\u00e2t miile de care ne izbeam zilnic, \u00een v\u00e2nzoleala mul\u0163imii. Nu era unul s\u0103 n-o priceap\u0103; o sim\u0163iser\u0103 p\u00e2n\u0103 \u015fi copiii ce s-au furi\u015fat prin spatele b\u0103ncilor, uit\u00e2nd de mingea pe care \u015fi-o azv\u00e2rliser\u0103 p\u00e2n\u0103 atunci.<\/p>\n
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Femeia a mai \u00eentors o pagin\u0103 \u2013 amalgam de culori stridente \u2013 \u015fi fo\u015fnetul a r\u0103sunat nefiresc de tare. R\u0103m\u0103sesem numai noi pe alee, doi str\u0103ini \u00eemp\u0103r\u0163ind amiaza, t\u0103cerea. Din c\u00e2nd \u00een c\u00e2nd o a\u0163inteam, fugar \u2013 nu se clintise. Umerii drep\u0163i, buclele ar\u0103mii r\u0103sfirate \u00een v\u00e2nt, br\u0103\u0163ara cu smaralde de la glezn\u0103… Siguran\u0163a arogant\u0103 a celei deprinse s\u0103 g\u0103seasc\u0103 \u00een ochii altora doar invidie, dorin\u0163\u0103.<\/p>\n
Iat\u0103 una care a reu\u015fit<\/em><\/strong>. G\u00e2ndul mi se-nv\u00e2rtejea asurzitor \u00een minte, iar ea \u00eel auzise, fiindc\u0103 un z\u00e2mbet i-a arcuit buzele s\u00e2ngerii. Nu z\u00e2mbea nim\u0103nui anume \u2013 \u00eens\u0103 am \u00een\u0163eles. Uita\u0163i-v\u0103,<\/em><\/strong> spunea, uita\u0163i-v\u0103 bine la ce n-o s\u0103 ave\u0163i vreodat\u0103.<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n \u015ei m-am uitat. La picioarele lungi, dezgolite de m\u0103tasea mulat\u0103 ca o piele de \u015farpe. La decolteul prea ad\u00e2nc, strivind s\u00e2nii ce n\u0103zuiau s\u0103 scape… A\u015fa reu\u015fise?!<\/p>\n Am privit la umbra care se ghemuia sub mine, asemeni unui c\u00e2ine de pripas. La hainele vechi, lustruite de-at\u00e2ta purtat, la pantofii colbui\u0163i, cu pingelele rupte. C\u00e2ndva fusesem unul din mul\u0163ime. \u00centotdeauna gr\u0103bit, cu ochii la ceas, d\u00e2nd din coate s\u0103-mi fac loc: \u00een metrou sau \u00een via\u0163\u0103. Apoi, f\u0103r\u0103 motiv, f\u0103r\u0103 veste, a \u00eenceput cobor\u00e2\u015ful. La patruzeci de ani eram b\u0103tr\u00e2n, nu \u00eendeajuns de tic\u0103los, \u015fi m\u0103 schimbam prea \u00eencet, prea pu\u0163in, f\u0103r\u0103 tragere de inim\u0103. Mi-o spuseser\u0103 cu to\u0163ii, \u00eembr\u00e2ncindu-m\u0103 \u00een jos, mereu mai jos… Pierdusem slujb\u0103 dup\u0103 slujb\u0103, so\u0163ia, prietenii; p\u00e2n\u0103 ce m-am pomenit la fund, \u00eengropat sub avalan\u015f\u0103. Singur, uitat, de prisos.<\/p>\n Acum \u00eei p\u00e2ndeam pe cei din jur cu neostenit\u0103 r\u0103bdare, \u00eencerc\u00e2nd s\u0103 ghicesc c\u00e2nd \u015fi cum va veni clipa \u00een care p\u0103m\u00e2ntul o s\u0103 le fug\u0103 de sub t\u0103lpi, clipa c\u00e2nd o s\u0103 se rostogoleasc\u0103. Unii lunecau deja, f\u0103r\u0103 s\u0103 o \u015ftie; dar mul\u0163i se ag\u0103\u0163au \u00eenc\u0103 de firul putred al norocului. Zadarnic\u0103 trud\u0103! \u00centr-un t\u00e2rziu vor ajunge aici, \u00eencremeni\u0163i pe o banc\u0103, \u00een ger, \u00een ploaie ori \u00een amiezele toropite de vipie…<\/p>\n \u0162ip\u0103tul m-a f\u0103cut s\u0103 tresar. Femeia lovea v\u0103zduhul, ramurile unei tufe. Lovea… ce? Apoi am v\u0103zut: urzeala cleioas\u0103 pe care o sf\u00e2\u015fia cu unghiile-i verzi, p\u0103ianjenul fugind printre zdren\u0163ele plasei. Era nefiresc de mare, cu trupul \u015fi labele p\u0103roase, dungate \u00een portocaliu \u015fi negru. O tarantul\u0103 \u00een \u0163ara oilor devenite muze \u015fi blazon?! De ce nu? V\u0103zusem \u015fi altele \u00een dughenele pu\u0163ind pestilen\u0163ial, ce-i \u00eembiau cu pitoni, iguane \u015fi maimu\u0163e pe snobii s\u0103tui de bietele, anostele pisici. Atotputernicii cu \u015fofer \u015fi girofar, care-\u015fi ridicau vile-palat \u00eentr-un an, umpl\u00e2ndu-le cu tablouri, icoane, t\u00e2rfe de lux \u015fi papagali, pentru ca pe urm\u0103, plictisi\u0163i, s\u0103 le arunce pe toate la canal ori la gunoi.<\/p>\n Femeia s-a l\u0103sat s\u0103 cad\u0103 pe banc\u0103, lu\u00e2nd revista. Dar n-a deschis-o. Z\u0103cea, cu obrazul bo\u0163it de tremurul spasmodic, cu m\u00e2inile \u00eencle\u015ftate una de alta, cu ochii \u00een gol.<\/p>\n M-a pufnit r\u00e2sul. P\u0103ianjenul acela era at\u00e2t de str\u0103in, de grotesc \u00een parcul umil, \u00een Bucure\u015ftiul jefuit p\u00e2n\u0103 \u015fi de speran\u0163\u0103 prin grija ve\u015fnicilor Ale\u015fi ai Soartei… Cei care nu i se ridicaser\u0103 vreodat\u0103 \u00eempotriv\u0103 \u2013 o min\u0163eau, \u00eei furau darurile, o lingu\u015feau a\u015ftern\u00e2ndu-i \u00eenainte covoare de trupuri \u015fi suflete strivite… Baronii comisionului, conquistadorii junglelor balcanice, corsarii ne\u00eenfrica\u0163i ai mla\u015ftinei de rela\u0163ii \u015fi cabale duhnitoare. Atotprezen\u0163i, mereu biruitori: m\u00e2ndria Na\u0163iei.<\/p>\n Iar femeia cu aere de prin\u0163es\u0103 era de-a lor. Poate ajunsese s\u0103 b\u00e2iguie prostii la vreo televiziune de mahala; poate \u00ee\u015fi unduia \u015falele, l\u0103l\u0103ind \u00een falset ca s\u0103 smulg\u0103 urlete gloatei \u00een delir, dezvelindu-\u015fi nurii pe scen\u0103, la nun\u0163i, \u00een vreo faimoas\u0103 c\u00e2rcium\u0103; ori poate se ag\u0103\u0163a, sear\u0103 de sear\u0103, de pulpana fracului cu burt\u0103 al unui gestionar de b\u0103c\u0103nie proasp\u0103t numit ministru… Orice-ar fi fost, doar pe sandalele-i cu tocuri \u015fi lan\u0163uri-curele din argint d\u0103duse mai mult dec\u00e2t primea unul ca mine \u00een trei ani de slug\u0103real\u0103!<\/p>\n \u00cens\u0103 nu izbuteam s\u0103 m\u0103 \u00eenfurii cu adev\u0103rat. Era prea cald, z\u0103duful amor\u0163ea totul, p\u00e2n\u0103 \u015fi copiii se potoliser\u0103 undeva, departe… Femeia \u00ee\u015fi cobor\u00e2se pleoapele, revista i-a lunecat dintre degete, dar nu-i p\u0103sa. S-a r\u0103sucit alene, oft\u00e2nd; capul i s-a l\u0103sat pe un um\u0103r, pletele s-au scurs spre s\u00e2nul ce izbutise s\u0103 ias\u0103 aproape cu totul din menghina lucitoare. Mi-am \u015fters sudoarea de pe frunte, am r\u0103suflat ad\u00e2nc \u015fi am clipit s\u0103 alung somnul; o dat\u0103, \u00eenc\u0103, de o sut\u0103 de ori.<\/p>\n … C\u00e2nd m-am trezit se \u00eensera. Pe banca ei nu mai st\u0103tea nimeni \u2013 firesc, femeia plecase, doar avea unde s\u0103 se duc\u0103! Apoi, am z\u0103rit sc\u00e2nteierea de pe asfalt.<\/p>\n Br\u0103\u0163ara! \u00centr-o clip\u0103 eram acolo, \u00een\u015ff\u0103c\u00e2nd \u015firagul de smaralde. Asta n-a fost o zi ca altele,<\/em><\/strong> mi-am spus, v\u00e2r\u00e2nd comoara \u00een buzunar, f\u0103r\u0103 s\u0103 cred c\u0103 norocul \u00eemi sur\u00e2dea, \u00een sf\u00e2r\u015fit. Cum s\u0103 piard\u0103 a\u015fa ceva?<\/p>\n Nu \u0163ineam cu adev\u0103rat s\u0103 aflu \u015fi, v\u0103z\u00e2nd sandaua \u00een iarb\u0103 m-am oprit, nehot\u0103r\u00e2t. Perechea ei se ivea de sub rochia \u00eengr\u0103m\u0103dit\u0103 \u00eend\u0103r\u0103tul b\u0103ncii. Am ridicat \u0163es\u0103tura fin\u0103, parfumat\u0103, \u00eenc\u0103l\u0163\u0103rile, holb\u00e2ndu-m\u0103 la ele f\u0103r\u0103 s\u0103 le v\u0103d. Deodat\u0103, le-am sc\u0103pat dintre degetele \u00een\u0163epenite dureros. Mai \u00eencolo, \u00eentre tufe se deslu\u015fea… o p\u0103pu\u015f\u0103, cu bucle ar\u0103mii \u015fi trupul alb, cu unghiile vopsite \u00een verde. P\u0103pu\u015f\u0103?! Abia c\u00e2nd am atins-o, c\u00e2nd am sim\u0163it-o cald\u0103, vie, abia atunci…<\/p>\n Era ea!<\/em><\/strong> Am tres\u0103rit, \u00eencerc\u00e2nd s\u0103 pricep ce mintea nu izbutea s\u0103 cuprind\u0103. Dar femeia nu mi-a dat r\u0103gaz. Ochii i s-au deschis, m-au a\u0163intit cu mirare \u015fi m\u00e2inile mele au str\u00e2ns, instinctiv.<\/p>\n \u201e Las\u0103-m\u0103! \u201c<\/p>\n Glasul sub\u0163ire, poruncitor, m-a smuls din \u00eempietrire. Femeia se r\u0103stea, obrajii i se \u00eenro\u015fiser\u0103 de efort, d\u0103dea din picioare. Era adev\u0103rat\u0103, era a mea… Unde s-o duc? Dac\u0103… a\u015f lua-o acas\u0103? \u00cen mansarda mizer\u0103, s\u0103 ne t\u00e2r\u00e2m zilele \u00eempreun\u0103. O s\u0103-i fac culcu\u015f \u00eentr-o cutie de carton, o s\u0103-i dau o coaj\u0103 de p\u00eeine, \u015fi o zdrean\u0163\u0103, ca s\u0103-\u015fi acopere ru\u015finea. O s\u0103 fie djinul gata s\u0103-mi ghiceasc\u0103 dorin\u0163ele, taina cea mai de pre\u0163 a celui ce nu avea nimic. O s\u0103…<\/p>\n \u201eIa-\u0163i labele murdare de pe mine!\u201c<\/p>\n Nu t\u0103cuse o clip\u0103, nu voia s\u0103 tac\u0103… Am privit-o cu luare aminte, \u00eentreb\u00e2ndu-m\u0103 care dintre noi \u015fi-a pierdut min\u0163ile; \u015fi cum o s\u0103 \u00eendur glasul acela strident zi dup\u0103 zi, noapte de noapte…<\/p>\n Femeia \u00eencerca s\u0103 mu\u015fte. Am apucat-o de plete, dar nici at\u00e2rn\u00e2nd \u00een v\u0103zduh nu \u00eenceta s\u0103 se zbuciume. I-am prins gleznele, am tras, am \u00eentins. \u00cens\u0103 chiar \u00een vreme ce descopeream cele mai ferite unghere ale trupului f\u0103r\u0103 cusur, be\u0163ia puterii coclea \u00een am\u0103reala fricii. Strig\u0103tele \u00eemi zg\u00e2riau fruntea \u015fi t\u00e2mplele pe din\u0103untru, cineva putea s\u0103 le aud\u0103, s\u0103 vin\u0103… Plasa! P\u0103ianjenul o \u0163esuse din nou, mai mare, mai deas\u0103. \u015ei, brusc, am \u015ftiut ce s\u0103 fac.<\/p>\n \u00cent\u00e2i n-a fost dec\u00e2t fr\u0103m\u00e2ntarea disperat\u0103, frenetic\u0103: ea<\/em><\/strong> c\u0103uta s\u0103 se smulg\u0103, izbutind doar s\u0103 se \u00eencurce mai r\u0103u. Nu se oprea totu\u015fi, g\u00e2f\u00e2ind, sc\u0103ldat\u0103 \u00een sudoare. Apoi a \u0163ipat scurt, g\u00e2tuit. P\u0103ianjenul! \u00cel v\u0103zusem \u015fi eu: un clovn sinistru, \u00een pijama p\u0103roas\u0103, dep\u0103n\u00e2ndu-\u015fi f\u0103r\u0103 grab\u0103 firul dintre f\u0103lcile-foarfeci.<\/p>\n Femeia s-a r\u0103sucit spre mine cu un torent de rug\u0103min\u0163i, de \u00eembieri. S-o scot din capcan\u0103, s-o izb\u0103vesc… <\/em><\/strong>\u2013 cu labele mele murdare?! O s\u0103 fac\u0103 orice, <\/em>orice!<\/em><\/strong> O clip\u0103, tenta\u0163ia a fost prea puternic\u0103 \u015fi am \u015fov\u0103it: era at\u00e2t de ispititoare, de altfel…<\/p>\n \u00cens\u0103 chiar atunci amintirile m-au izbit, n\u0103ucitor. Orele nesf\u00e2r\u015fite de a\u015fteptare la ghi\u015feul de unde un func\u0163ionar plictisit v\u0103rsa gr\u0103m\u0103joare de m\u0103run\u0163i\u015f fiec\u0103rei umbre umile, ostenite, ce \u00ee\u015fi t\u00e2r\u015f\u00e2ia picioarele pe cimentul murdar… Dispre\u0163ul buticarilor arabi sau turci, repezindu-i cu vorbe guturale pe obidi\u0163ii unui p\u0103m\u00e2nt care r\u0103bdase prea mul\u0163i venetici… R\u00e2njetul securi\u015ftilor deveni\u0163i patroni, al politrucilor ajun\u015fi parlamentari \u015fi patrio\u0163i, slug\u0103rnicia gre\u0163oas\u0103 a \u00een\u0163elep\u0163ilor f\u0103r\u0103 \u015fira spin\u0103rii, f\u0103c\u00e2nd temenele oric\u0103rui Nimeni n\u0103scut cu pa\u015faport ce n-avea nevoie de viz\u0103… Trufia femeilor cu trupuri de statui \u015fi capete \u00een care nu se r\u0103t\u0103cise niciodat\u0103 vreun g\u00e2nd, a p\u0103pu\u015filor gonflabile \u00eenve\u015fm\u00e2ntate \u00een bl\u0103nuri \u015fi diamante, fard \u015fi parfum, ferindu-se s\u0103 coboare din Cadillac-uri, s\u0103 dea cu ochii de b\u0103tr\u00e2ni scheletici, de copii descul\u0163i, nebuni de foame, de frig, de spaim\u0103…<\/p>\n M-am dezmeticit anevoie, cu inima bubuind, cu gura uscat\u0103.<\/p>\n Nu, prin\u0163eso! Nici eu nu vreau s\u0103 m\u0103 mai pun cu Soarta!<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n \u015ei m-am uitat f\u0103r\u0103 s\u0103 clipesc, f\u0103r\u0103 s\u0103 tresar, cum p\u0103ianjenul o t\u00e2ra, o \u00eenc\u00e2lcea \u00een mijlocul plasei, nep\u0103s\u0103tor la zbateri, la \u0163ipete… P\u00e2n\u0103 ce, \u00eentr-un t\u00e2rziu a l\u0103sat-o, r\u0103stignit\u0103, neputincioas\u0103, s\u0103-\u015fi azv\u00e2rle capul dintr-o parte \u00een alta, \u00eentr-un v\u00e2rtej de plete jilave.<\/p>\n \u201eRoag\u0103-te de el\u201c, am rostit, netezindu-i obrajii br\u0103zda\u0163i de lacrimi. \u201ePoate o s\u0103 se-ndure, poate c\u0103 o s\u0103 reu\u015fe\u015fti…\u201c<\/p>\n Dar femeia amu\u0163ise. \u015ei n-a scos un sunet c\u00e2nd f\u0103lcile chitinoase s-au \u00eenfipt, crest\u00e2nd, scormonind, c\u00e2nd au prins s\u0103 sug\u0103. G\u00e2f\u00e2itul iu\u0163it nebune\u015fte, s\u00e2nii sc\u00e2nteindu-\u015fi conurile ar\u0103mii \u00een lumina limpede a apusului, p\u00e2ntecul puls\u00e2nd ca o inim\u0103… Pe urm\u0103, p\u0103ianjenul \u00een ve\u015fminte de clovn s-a dep\u0103rtat, s\u0103tul. Dintre buzele \u00eens\u00e2ngerate a sc\u0103pat un geam\u0103t sau, poate, un horc\u0103it. Prin\u0163esa avea ochii ie\u015fi\u0163i din orbite, trupul \u00eencleiat de bale g\u0103lbui, p\u00e2ntecul c\u0103zut \u00eentre oasele \u015foldurilor. \u00cens\u0103 tr\u0103ia.<\/p>\n \u00cei mai r\u0103m\u0103seser\u0103 destule de \u00eenv\u0103\u0163at. Nu pricepuse \u00eendeajuns, \u00eentrutotul; dar m\u00e2ine, p\u0103ianjenul va veni din nou, s-o ajute. \u015ei eu o s\u0103 fiu aici, s-o privesc zbucium\u00e2ndu-se \u00een str\u00e2nsoarea labelor b\u0103l\u0163ate, siluit\u0103 de f\u0103lcile care o goleau de trufie, de noroc, ar\u0103t\u00e2ndu-\u015fi zadarnic nurii \u00een arena circului pustiu.<\/p>\n Singur\u0103, uitat\u0103, de prisos.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" de Dan Apostol Eram chiar \u00eenainte-i, \u00eens\u0103 femeia nu \u015fi-a ridicat ochii de pe revist\u0103. Numai felul \u00een care \u00ee\u015fi trecuse degetele prin p\u0103r, d\u00e2nd din umeri…. M-am a\u015fezat mai \u00eencolo, pe o banc\u0103 de unde puteam s-o p\u00e2ndesc. Nu eram singurul. \u00cen dreptul femeii \u00een rochie verde, to\u0163i \u00eencetineau pa\u015fii. Un b\u0103tr\u00e2n \u015fi-a curmat […]<\/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":[1224,125],"tags":[1232,1225,1129],"class_list":["post-11322","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-egophobia-47","category-invitat","tag-dan-apostol","tag-egophobia-47","tag-invitat"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6DakB-2WC","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11322","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=11322"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11322\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":11346,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11322\/revisions\/11346"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=11322"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=11322"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=11322"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}