He felt the sun warming his head and chest while he listened to the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks on the beach. But it was a feeling that didn't bother him. At that moment, with everything going on in his life, he would love to be consumed by the sun; maybe then he would feel more complete, besides the fact that if he were lucky enough for that to happen, his problems would disappear.
He stayed motionless for about five minutes with his eyes closed, listening to the sound of the sea and the footsteps of people walking back and forth. After all, it was a summer Sunday, and the beach was full of life. And for that reason, he didn't stay that way for more than five minutes; he knew people would start thinking he was strange or crazy, and he was already too unhappy to attract that kind of attention to himself.
He entered the sea. And the temperature was just as he expected: cold. The perfect temperature to spend hours swimming because, even though there were waves and some were big, they wouldn't hinder his swim. He would do everything to swim as much as possible, enough to forget, to think about nothing. Maybe, just maybe, he could leave the sea endowed with a stoicism he had never managed to develop alone on land.
Indeed, when he got tired, he felt better — extremely exhausted but less sad. Now was a good time to think about what he was going to do.
Carlo was unemployed. The night before, he had received a call from his supervisor, informing him that he didn't need to go to the company the next day. He couldn't say he was caught off guard because he knew the company wasn't doing well, but he never imagined he would be dismissed that way — in a phone call, through words that sounded like they were being read. He barely slept, and that morning, he concluded that only the sea could give him enough clarity to know what to do. But the truth was, he still had no idea which direction to go.
He had worked at that company informally for three years. And even though he received his salary every month, most of the time, it was paid late. It was somewhat frustrating, but it was the only job he found that paid well enough for a part-time shift since he was also attending college. And now, he had been fired and only had fifty reais in his bank account. Since receiving the news, he had been trying to control himself to avoid panicking. He knew the only way to prevent despair from taking over was to start acting. In the hours that passed after the call, it was impossible not to use the power of hindsight to imagine how things would be if he had chosen to study for public service exams instead of going back to college. Maybe he would already be working for the state, having a stable financial life, but instead, he chose law school... five years of the course, and he was still in the third. It had everything to be a mistake, but he had faith it would be worth it. Only time would tell.
When he left the beach, he thought he might work as a waiter at some bar at night, and he considered some contacts who might know of an opening. But when he got home, he decided to appear calm and confident. He didn't want his wife and children to notice how lost he was feeling.
“Hey, love, where are the kids?” Carlo said as he entered the house.
“They're with your mom. She came by and took them to the park... Are you feeling any better?” Silvia asked.
“Yes.”
“I know you're not, Carlo, but I want you to understand that everything will be okay. If necessary, I can talk to my parents to help us with something.”
“No,” Carlo replied coldly.
“I know you'll find something soon... But we need to be rational...”
“I don't want to talk about it now. I'm going to see if I can get some work for later, in some bar or restaurant. If necessary, I'll drop out of college, but what matters is that we're okay.”
“Come here, my love…” Silvia said, approaching him to give him a kiss and a hug. And although he accepted it, he gently pulled her hands away. Carlo was tired and wanted to be alone.
The day went by quickly, and when his mother arrived with the kids, it was already night, and he was ready to go out. He played with the children for a while, and they noticed that their father's eyes were a bit wet. But Anna and Pietro were only seven and nine years old; they still couldn't recognize the subtle sadness of adults.
At 9 PM, he called a friend who had found him a job, letting him know he was leaving the house. It was a freelance gig at a pub downtown. He would work the whole night to earn 150 reais. He hoped to get some tips and end the night with 200. But there was no way to be sure if it would go as he expected. The only certainty he had was that he would do whatever it took to keep helping his wife support the family. That was his role; to him, that was what it meant to be a man.
Portuguese
Sentia o sol esquentando sua cabeça e seu peito enquanto escutava o barulho das ondas quebrando nas pedras da praia. Mas era uma sensação que não o incomodava. Naquele momento, com tudo o que estava acontecendo em sua vida, ele adoraria ser consumido pelo sol, talvez assim se sentisse mais completo, além do fato de que se tivesse a sorte disso acontecer, seus problemas desapareceriam.
Passou um cinco minutos imóvel com os olhos fechados, escutando o som do mar e os passos das pessoas que andavam para lá e pra cá, afinal, era um domingo de verão, a praia estava cheia de vida. E por esse motivo, não passou mais do que cinco minutos daquele jeito, sabia que as pessoas começariam a pensar que ele era estranho, ou louco, e já estava infeliz demais pra querer atrair esse tipo de atenção para si.
Entrou no mar. E a temperatura estava como esperava: fria. A temperatura perfeita para passar horas ali nadando, pois por mais que tivesse ondas e algumas fossem grandes, isso não atrapalharia seu nado, e ele faria de tudo para nadar bastante, o suficiente pra esquecer, para não pensar em nada. Para quem sabe, sair do mar dotado de um estoicismo que nunca conseguiu desenvolver sozinho em terra. De fato, quando se cansou, se sentiu melhor, extremamente exausto, mas menos triste, agora era um bom momento de pensar no que iria fazer.
Carlo estava desempregado. Na noite anterior recebeu um telefonema de sua supervisora avisando que não precisava ir na empresa no dia seguinte. Ele não pode dizer que foi pego de surpresa, pois sabia que a empresa não andava bem, mas jamais imaginou que seria descartado daquela forma, numa ligação telefônica, através de palavras que pareciam estar sendo lidas. Mal conseguiu dormir, e naquela manhã, chegou a conclusão que só o mar poderia lhe dar clareza suficiente para saber o que iria fazer. Mas, a verdade, é que ainda não fazia ideia em qual direção seguir.
Trabalhava naquela empresa informalmente há 3 anos. E por mais que recebesse seu salário todo mês, na maioria das vezes recebia com atraso. Era meio frustrante, mas era o único trabalho que ele encontrou que pagava o suficientemente bem uma jornada de meio período, já que ele também fazia faculdade. E agora, tinha sido demitido, e tinha apenas 50 reais na conta. Estava a cada momento desde que recebeu a notícia, se controlando para não se desesperar. E sabia que a única maneira do desespero não o dominar, era começar a agir. Naquelas horas que se passaram depois que recebeu a notícia, foi impossível não usar o Power of hindsight para imaginar como seria se ele tivesse escolhido estudar para concurso em vez de voltar para faculdade. Talvez já estivesse trabalhando para o estado, tendo uma vida financeira estável, mas em vez disso, escolheu a faculdade de direito… cinco anos de curso e ainda estava no terceiro, tinha tudo para ser um erro, mas ele tinha fé que valeria a pena. Isso só o tempo diria.
Quando saiu da praia, imaginou que pudesse trabalhar de garçom em algum bar a noite, pensou em alguns contatos que tinha que podiam saber de alguma vaga. Mas, quando chegou em casa, decidiu parecer calmo e confiante, não queria que sua esposa e filhos percebessem o quão perdido ele estava se sentindo.
‘’Oi amor, onde estão as crianças?’’ Disse Carlo ao chegar em casa.
‘’Oi, elas estão com sua mãe, que passou aqui para levá-las ao parque… Você está melhor?’’ pergunta Sílvia
‘’Estou.’’
‘’Eu sei que não está Carlo, mas eu quero que você entenda que vai ficar tudo bem, qualquer coisa, eu falo com meus pais pra nos ajudar com algo se precisarmos.’’
‘’Não.’’ Respondeu Carlo frio.
‘’Eu sei que você vai encontrar algo em breve… Mas precisamos ser racionais…’’
‘’Eu não quero falar disso agora, vou ver se consigo algum serviço para mais tarde, em algum bar ou restaurante, se for preciso tranco a faculdade, mas o que importa é estarmos bem.’’
‘’Vem cá meu amor… ‘’ Diz Silvia se aproximando dele para dar um beijo e um abraço. E embora ele aceite, vai tirando as mãos dela com delicadeza, Carlo está cansado e quer ficar sozinho.
Aquele dia passou rápido e quando a mãe dele chegou com as crianças, já era noite e ele já estava pronto para sair. Brincou com os filhos por um tempo, que perceberam os olhos do pai um tanto úmidos, mas Anna e Pietro tinham apenas 7 e 9 anos, ainda não reconheciam a tristeza sutil dos adultos. Às 9h da noite ligou para o amigo, que tinha lhe conseguido um trabalho, avisando que já estava saindo de casa .Era um trabalho freelancer num pub no centro da cidade, ia trabalhar a noite inteira pra ganhar 150 reais. Tinha esperança de ganhar algumas gorjetas e fechar a noite com 200. Mas não tinha como ter certeza se seria como esperava. A única certeza que tinha é que faria de tudo para continuar ajudando a esposa a sustentar a família, aquele era o seu papel; para ele, aquilo significava ser homem.
