Great Incomings

Some eventualities oddly come to happen with those who least expect to be grimly marked. Under unpredictable circumstances, maybe such facts are responsible to select tiny moments of one’s life line to surprisingly overcome the situation, consequently reminding us how victims of random happenings we will ever be. Beliefs do not last forever, they just have not faced enough oppositions.

In a cloudy and gray afternoon, Mr. P. was coming back from his customary walk through the park when, in a short glance, something unexpected took place in front of his deep black eyes. By the side of his house, there was some furniture in his lawn, just like if somebody had just moved to there. Before the storyline goes on, maybe the reader should know that Mr. P. has never been acquainted with meeting people since the forlorn date his beloved daughter was gone, carrying out among with her every piece of gladness and hope he had in life, people and God. At the moment he first stepped by his door, some curiosity over the incomers was pervading his mind. Instantly a young well-dressed man accompanied by a good-looking lady appeared in front of the door, smiling while looking at him. In a few quick steps he was in front of Mr. P, who barely sensed him. “So, you’re living next door? I’m pastor J. and this is my wife M. We have just moved in and it would be lovely to have you for dinner tonight, how’s your name, by the way?”. A slight discomfort followed Mr. P.:”I’m P., but I’m afraid I shall not come, thank you for the invitation.”

Around half past six in the evening, when the soberly morbid character first mentioned in this story had prepared himself for eating, the high tuned irritant ring of the bell made him step out of his chair. “Who on Earth could be disturbing in such a moment? No one ever comes here the whole day, and when they show up is like that, to interrupt your meals!”. After opening the fine wooden door, there stood behind it, as always with elegant attire, his so undesirable neighbor. “Hello there! I know you refused my previous request, but it seems that I overcooked this time and my wife would like very much to know you. So, how’s about joining us?”. Sometimes an inactive ego attends to the environment’s inducements and lefts us no time to reasonably come to a decision. It happened so with Mr. P. when he said:”I’ll go get my jacket.”

After dinner was finished, the conversation had gone nicely until the preacher stumbled upon himself with a commonly easy question to hard-faithed men: “Why do you waste your time with all this devotion, sir? Better saying, why do you still believe there’s a God?”. Mr. J. let his teeth be seen in a brief forced laugh. “Well, my friend, take a brisk examination in every prayer’s life. You’ll realize our Lord gifts their days with good feelings, if not, he fills our hearts with hope.”. Mr. P. replied: “This may be seen as true for you, sir, however, it is ridiculously foolish to create a world of unsustainable expectations. The problem is, sir, you’re wearing the wrong goggles, which disables the reality surrounding your fragile body to be distinguished. Apparently there is happiness in your days, but behind this mask a terrific lack of self comprehension and a enormous childish thought away from your knowledge are just waiting to be unveiled.”. “Typical speech of disbelievers, my friends. Although your words disagree with mine, I totally respect them, perhaps you have been going through difficult moments. I encourage you to visit the church this Sunday, be sure I’ll keep you a special lecture.”

Naturally Sunday came and there was no signal of Mr. P. during the pastor’s utterance. Nonetheless, a queer mist started to hover inside the withdrawn man’s mind. Even though he despised his neighbor being a preacher, he had slowly considered to hear and, surely, defy him. This is a particular case in which two people are binded by mutual disagreement. Everyone might have heard that opposites attracts. How far is that understandable or at least possible? Most certainly this popular saying mirrors only the semblance of any situation. There is a reason for someone to be interested in another existence, though this last consists of a contrary view. People are all connected by interests, guiding their lives from the minute they are born, and it leads them to fulfill their needs when making contact one to another. Afterwards, a relationship based on exchange of mutual satisfaction is established: people seek in each other values they do not have or could not achieve.

With little surprise, Mr. P. gently disposed himself to have dinner in more two occasions, perhaps another lack of reason for a behavior like his, rather than excess of complacency. It is not necessary to describe these events, since they were merely an unimportant copy of the first. This occurrence took that mysterious man to loner himself after unproductive interactions, refusing every invitation of Mr. J. Definitely returning to his previous state of solitude and inner thinking.

In therms of idiosyncrasy, how strong or how unflinching do things we believe in pretend to be? Our sense of reality is often so mistaken that our perception gives room to self-indulgence, while in the superficial aspect of what is seen becomes fancied by a numb consciousness. This is a way to explain underestimated thoughts plenty acceptance. But, can we truly find the correct path? The one that will lead us to accomplish our deepest obstinacy?

After a few long years, days were normally going on for Mr. P., the word “normally” here written evokes his fruitless indecision of which road to follow. He was only as lost as he considered Mr. J. to be, possibly many years of introspection made his moral quality the way it was. When you delay to choose things you like, you end up with lots you don’t.

In an ordinary evening, while coming late from his habitual walk, Mr. P. felt something different in his own mind. That was not a recent will, but what he had been thinking was hovering his brain for ages, waiting the time to be shared with the right person. Motivated by the opened door of his neighbor, his shy steps silently entered that house. “Well, the door was open and I had something to say. Is there anyone at home?”. Instantly he heard a call from the room upstairs, and there he went.

Lying half on his bed, half on the floor was Mr. J., in an uncommon state of agony, but gently holding a shiny small gun in his hands. “Sorry for not being able to see both sides of our lives.” said he. His hands started to shake with fear printed in his sweaty face. A few tears wet the top of that unmerciful piece of steel that held only one bullet inside, but enough to go on with his stream of irrationality. “Listen, my friend, once I assumed to have a perfect life, and I used to thank God everyday for that. My faith had never faced a severe strike, until I experienced the most woeful situation a man can ever go through. My wife and I were expecting our baby to come and, among with him, joy to bring. How can a man’s life get better? Well, unfortunately, it can’t, it gets worse downhill. On the day of his birth, I had offered myself to take my wife to the hospital, in order to prepare her for surgery. I would give my life away if someone had told me that very day there was a drunk driver on the road. Yes, my friend, it happened just like that, my dreams just faded away into a permanent nightmare, which I am about to wake up from now. What is worse, being unable to find a reason for your life or tragically loosing the one you had? God can’t save me, but I can.”. So tenderly he moved his hands to his head, and the weight of his nervous fingers was everything the trigger needed to work.

Passed this very unpredictable disaster, Mr. P. would never get back to his old moralities. His lonesome days were gone until he shared only silent conversations with the other inmates at the city’s asylum. Why could something like this happen exactly in the same day he was going to church?

Eduardo Marques