Abo

John landed his whisky glass on the table next to him.

Kid, you know shit about life. Look me in the eyes.

There was a man sitting right in front of him. The man was panting. But John had no mercy. He saw no sadness in the man`s eyes. The young man`s name was Abo.
John was an old man with a rough heart. He had lived enough. Maybe, he would say, he had lived long enough. Men like him didn`t like long conversations and didn`t really care about other people`s life. But Abo was a nice kid, he had to admit. John had lived several years without feeling his heart thump. But now he could feel his blood flowing around once more. Abo had in his personality a lot similar to John`s personality as a young man. He sipped another gulp from his whisky.

You know, Abo… When I was your age, things were different. Back then, times were much harder. Now you guys have Facebook, Facetime, Faceshit… Whatever. Everything`s just within the reach of your hands and you still keep complaining about it. You come to me almost crying. What if people saw you crying like a baby in my room just like you are right now?

Sir, I ain`t crying.

Don`t talk to me like that and don`t lie to me. You smell like tears, I would be able to smell it a thousand miles away. You gotta know how to impress people. You`re too shy. Don`t be. You`re too slow. Don`t be.

You keep telling me about your time. Quoting your own words, sir: I don`t give a shit about your time. If you don`t like my words, stop treating me like a child. I`m not so young as you think. There are some aspects in life which are timeless. For example: love. You`ve loved in your time, I`m loving now. You have loved your woman and now she`s dead. Face it. You won`t have another chance to kiss her. But, me, by the other hand, I find myself in a very different situation. Can you remember the feeling of conquering a girl? Can you remember the guilt? The disorder? The pain? That`s a timeless feeling, sir. You could be 150 years old today and you`d feel love the same way you did a long time ago.

John took a deep breath. He stared at the man for a long time. Abo felt that his seconds would last forever in the next few hours. John took another sip from his whisky.

Kid, you got guts to talk `bout my dead wife like you just did. You know the difference between you and me? It`s not about the feeling. Love is always love. And it`ll last forever in our heart. True love is immortal and voluble. The stories I`ve lived fifty, sixty years ago still live inside my heart. In my dreams, I`m a young man living dead emotions. Do you think that`s healthy? Would you be able to live up to your own memory? What`s easier to me? To remember my old times and forget about our world? Or to face the truth that I really won`t be able to kiss my wife ever again? If I accept the present, I might be able to teach someone something sometime. But you`re stupid. Most young people are stupid.

But-

No, no… Let me rephrase what I`ve just said. You`re not stupid. You`re different. I`ve met others who are as old as you. You tend to respect people when you first meet them. But, as you get to know them better, you tend to focus your attention in people`s flaws. So, from that moment on, you start believing yourself again and no one else. So you`re actually not stupid, but arrogant. Your young, brave and shinning truth seems to overcome everything else.

You`re wrong, John-

Don`t call me John.

Sir, you`re wrong. Our meetings have always been based in a single subject and you know it. So you can`t make an abstract image of me. I might be much more than this conversations can show you. And you base your conclusions only on the image that I`ve built of you inside my mind. You`ve never seen me having long conversations with other people. You don`t know my opinions about politics, about science, about arts. If I have ignored your opinions, if I have disagreed with you in most part of our talks is only because I have a reason behind every decision. So, that leads me to the logical answer that the demons you claim to exist inside me are actually inside yourself. You`re letting your old, corrupted past corrupt my present now. But you should know you really don`t have much chance to change things. I love her. You are two generations behind us, you wouldn`t understand what we nowadays call “love”.

Wouldn`t I? But haven`t you just told me I could be 150 years old and I`d feel love the same way I did with my dead wife? So, tomorrow morning, I`ll buy a shovel and I`ll dig again my wife`s grave. I`ll take her dead, skinny body, and I`d try to kiss her. Is that the same love you say you have? Are the dead really dead? Is she alive inside me? When you come to argue with me, you must try hard to keep the coherence. Don`t fucking start telling me a million different arguments just to keep her to yourself. That`s bullshit. You know it.

Sir, you should consider having more respect for your guests.

You are my guest? You?

John stared Abo directly in the eyes. He finished his whisky. Abo didn`t answer him. Abo tried to stand up quickly from his chair, but John held his arm.

Kid, stop being so petulant. Sit your ass back there.

No, John. This conversation is over.

Abo stood up once again. Now he was the one staring at John`s eyes. He thought that, by standing, he would win the discussion. But he was wrong. John wasn`t sad. He was smiling, actually. Abo left the room knowing he would have to come back there soon. John landed his empty glass of whisky with melted ice inside on the table once more. Everything was all right.


Caio Mello

06/08/2011