WISE UNDERWISE

Submitted into Contest #10 in response to: Write a story about someone who is unexpectedly wise.... view prompt

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General

Firstborn, red-haired, handsome, healthy, had been born in the last century, second half beginning, at eight months walked and spoke; Suburban humble parents told stories of pain, felt exceedingly blessed; Emmanoel my father gave me the name of his younger brother, who died early: Paul (small, in Greek). The cultured apostle.

Mariusa my mother, elected the beauty queen of the aspiring Clube Estrela do Oriente, in the remote and quiet Patience, Santa Cruz railway branch, far western Carioca, in the old Guanabara, today Rio de Janeiro, was diligently breastfeeding me; She cleaned, washed, ironed, sewed and cooked day after day, under the guise of his beauty, but little academic training and strict education. Did the four-piece surf shorts, i had invented, so wanted by my beach mates.

Emmanoel always showed a sharp wit, which distinguished him in old age, when he accounted for large accumulated sum and a fund for both consistent retirement.

He was admirable since young, being noticed and raised by those who know him and wanted a shrewd servant, able to add value to the enterprises.

He soon became a competent supervisor and then superintendent, in a maneuver that haunted his directors, for the proactivity and futuristic vision. Without a higher level diploma.

Manoel his father had left early, hand in hand with cancer and the resulting depression.

Gumercinda his mother, who had nothing left but the five children, lasted much longer.

Emmanoel, in the care of divine providence, was treading a flat path, though stony and flanked by impassable chasms and walls; He kept trying to be an honorable self-made man, mindful of possibilities and risks; Prudent.

Dad practice an annoying humility; Galeão beach on Governor's Island, never Copacabana or Ipanema.

I never knew why he had lost all his teeth, so a few smiles would expose that well-made and finished denture. Kisses, too, were rare; Sign of remarkable betrayal told me; Tenacious, never depressed, beaten down sometimes, but knack to attack.

It was pure testosterone, the offspring at the end, and some annoyances to my mother, ratified that.

No belligerence, before, wisdom, intelligence, insight and diplomacy, basics to face targets and surprises in the meadows of his existence.

Paul was the other way around, except for the loving heart, smiley, kisser, and the testosterone.

I was struggling sickly against resignation and resilience, facing so much disappointment and defeat, now, in the 21st century, one year from reaching the milestone of my reverse age. I indulge in remorse and regret. I took little advantage of my father and I dropped the hand of gratitude.

Born in 56 i'll turn 65 in October 30, 2020, and had spent most of that time sitting on the magic carpet, woven with the golden and silver threads of rebellion, unconsciousness, irresponsibility, and recklessness.

What credit such a wretched, wasteful of wisdom would deserve?

Adopted human judgment and the verdict must be: guilty! Death penalty! Sin against the fifth commandment. Tied by his feet to an iron ball, thrown into the deepest canyon of the South Atlantic; The wrapping, that served no more, fish food; the soul and its QRcode banished to the inner abyssal magma, until the second call and definitive transfer to the faded Sun, the final Alcatraz; The spirit of life would return to its source, the Matrix.


But from the supreme judge came mercy and the omnipotent was pious. He who weighs the spirits and reads the hearts would impress his purpose.


Marcos, the blond brother, came a year later and my heart was shaken by invisible ghosts that cohabit the home, filling me with jealousy.

The fever, caused by the spiritually launched flaming dart, was small and soon passed.

Another year and the strong heart disease was inseminated, was born the youngest, the catalyst of attention; thereafter it was trembling, sweating and fever, invisible, did not appear to my parents.

It was then a shower of flaming invisible darts soaked in poisons feared by the adults who, careless of the virtual reality of the spirit world, should suffer the consequences without knowing the causes.

The damage was done in the most sublime and unreachable bowels, the wound had been opened, internal and imperceptible, it expanded, in a profusion of cells and capillary tentacles, which impregnated the bowels of that little being, born to be served as an offering, firstborn he was.

The little maternal carelessness caused great damage, and the little monster grew; The absence of the father in the incessant and extra hours of work, the inability to give me what he had not received, supplemented the dose.

My mind dulled, my eyes seemed to swirl unconnected with my mind, my ear deafened, and my heart hardened to whatever came from a father, mother, siblings, or christian shepherd.

The school became scary, sheltering the other enemies, Hugo, the taller, kicked my shins, wearing his orthopedic boots; Pereira mocked my penis, well proportioned and always swollen, whenever he saw me piss, filled me the bag without using the straw; Isabel the girl who had slapped me for no apparent reason; Teresa who never loved me, loved Cerqueira; Professor Edda who also did not encourage me.

It was all a hellish trance, and the most striking teachings came from the gang gathered on the sidewalks, in the shadows, or on the makeshift soccer fields.

Sex was learned in the little black-and-white magazines of pornographic master Zefiro, the biggest pleasures later, with the american, english, and dutch colored ones; Sandra, who was about 10 years old, stole my first voluptuous kiss on the mouth, retreating, however, to my bristly advance, while guarding us at night, watching the Globo soap opera, while my mother worshiped the LORD JESUS, ​​THE CHRIST!

Soon the onanist ghost whistled at my will, making it a slave to that morbidity, rewarding me with the alienation, weak-spiritedness and procrastination, fruits of the Tree of Onan, which had thrived.

More than a decade passed and André sprouted, three more years and came Marta, thus defining all the offspring and disturbing the script and direction.

The future wretch was a winning bet, because I didn't value the structure and felt badly loved.

Those ghosts, however, knew who the firstborn boy belonged to, and scarred him as long as they could.

At the age of eight, the temple of the Abolition Baptist Church, in one of the benignly inspired outbursts, overcoming the bipolarity that plagued me, I decided on my spiritual covenant with that superhero of the Jews, who claimed to be the same ELOHIM of the Hebrew people; God of Israel. After all, surrounded by so many examples, I had to decide between such a loving and suffering superman, who had proved to me to be GOD, or the exus, and stupid idolatry, seen in the homes of fellow adventurers and misfortunes.

My king was chosen, The King of Jews, as Pilatos wrote. I was baptized, submerged in the waters, showing all the invisible witnesses that had decided me. The gift bible from grandma Gumercinda was proudly held on Sundays. I had won the dispute over knowledge, talkinga about Esther's book, knew by heart the location of each book. They called me “bible boy”.

It was the end of the spiritual bomb trigger that the Prince of Darkness, The Viperman, had prepared to hit me deadly.

The lack of efficient discipleship, the father's unbelief, the mother's spiritual insufficiency, the lust opening my flank to darkness, formed a circus ready to catch fire and burn; And it burned!

The testosterone produced by the gusts made the blood flow pressurized through the veins to the end. Just seeing the smile of the divas of the time or the voluptuous hips of a zebra, produced a hard on.

The lack of essential, virtuous knowledge and training left a diametric void for every foundation; Everything was unfounded and unsupported, and the greatest teachings were from the streets, which floated and settled over each other, plugging the void of my being, forming a great trap, a cancerous mountain sucking me, and all that I dared to become.

Dating, engagements, and marriages were bound to be grounded in a shifting, sandy terrain that would swallow anything that brought the need for any weight of virtue, however slight, whether it was respect, descent, commitment, morals, ethics or empathy.

My parents were examples of the high price to pay for spiritual childishness and carelessness with its nuances and subtleties; They thought it was just a matter of religion and one could have his own as long as he did good. They attended a christian temple, read the Scriptures, but did not use the manual well. GOD was the omnipotent, his very virtuous dictates and instructions, true, therefore, but their commitment to his instructions were fragile, and so the hosts on the dark side grasped the children in disguise and inflamed them more and more, every night.

Sexual precocity and onanism fostered heterosexuality, exacerbation made the ground vast, fertile to germinate all sowing, in small portions, homosexuality punctually flourished.

It was enough for time to give the concert dramatic notes, turning the childhood spectacle into a dramatic and suffering short film of human misery; It would require me to move away under the auspices of my widow grandmother and loving maiden aunt, who would soon succumb to cancer as well.

Everything falls behind, the father, the mother, the brothers, the class, the soccer games, the showers under the rain, the footbal under the sun, the kites, the marbles, the honor, the haughtiness. I got sick every day, microscopically. What a hiatus! And my aunt moaning, bedridden, pleading for morphine.

The lessons became stepmothers with wilted and dry teats, a frowning virago, that made me turned inward and wove an increasingly impenetrable breastplate, which let nothing get out either.

Live for what? I was beginning to cease and introspect.

When the school was already another, and Marina had come, supposedly to a story of eternal love, that inconsequential and cruel she stabbed.

The years went by mind-blowing as if I were the silver ball in an unintended pinbal, and the path became increasingly abrupt, plummeting to a mill that I had not planned. Suicide!?

The Over-the-Natural prevailed, and I was convinced that all would be resolved in success and notoriety one day. GOD had received me in a baptism forever, and only I, deceived and utterly mad, could refute Him.

The youth had stumbled, it was all superimposed errors, the older age came, the first adult woman, the first car, and the first serious overwhelming car accident, all without maturity, which required attention to the experiments, not a mind blowed boy.

My brave heart was a longing for love, impetuous and courageous, but disastrous was the results ever; Spiritual communion had been an indelible record of the moments when i believed there was a PROTECTOR GOD within us and who appeared to us personally, in the natural hard disk.

I effectively departed from Him, at 17, after witnessing a family discussion of my mother, the eternal antagonist, with my father, who struggled for recognition of his leadership and rewards to his stubborn giving, minimally with the gratitude of his children; mainly from the firstborn.

The desire for an eternal girlfriend was corrupted by the examples of the quarrelsome couple, forever entwined. Experienced the other stabs and the unstructured building imploded, resulting in a large human debris bag.

Divine providence did not let me explode in danger, i violated me, transformed myself into a terminally ill patient of self-pity; Only a SUPER DOCTOR could cure.

Higher education had also begun at this age, and I postponed university entrance into the second semester, which, along the job at the major national insurance brokerage, supplemented the good-standing status for the most interesting women around.

Appearances did not deceive my persecutors, and they only had to introduce me to the supposed friend, who was of great social status, who had gone to international rock and roll shows, wore expensive clothes and shoes, a consumer of tobacco, alcohol and drugs, for the final blow to be dealt.

The engagement with one of the best girls at the university was broken after the second car accident, which nearly killed us. Added to this was the dementia that resulted from the massive brain concussion that had left a 56-point scar that ran down the right front, from the scalp to the eyebrow, dividing to the left and right.

Now paranoia, schizophrenia, and other ruinous psychopathological disorders have become grim companions.

Alcohol and tobacco and other drugs also became companions; Leaving the formation without completing it was a marked playing card, so I did it, to give a greater spice of my father and mother's sadness.

Good jobs and good wages were becoming lines of a curriculum that would prevent new opportunities.

A long time passed, a lot of rain poured out, in 1989 I reached the age I had considered dying. The disturbed psykhé did not allow me to value the good girlfriend of the moment, who was the most beautiful, as much as and very similar to Sonia Braga; Sandra!

Unsure and unfounded I upset the whole relationship; What to do? If consciousness was the sleeping beauty of the brain dungeon!

The faith, the good broken heart, impetuousness, courage, and then whatever God wanted. I vaguely remembered him again, knowing that if the world fell around me, that was the hope for me, to see the wonder, if the world fell around me and the forces lacked me, I would find refuge and your arms should surely support me.

I've brought her to everyday life, unmarried, and even with troubled relationships, Daphne was conceived.

In a smart move I brokered a great deal, lawful, won a good sum of money and flew to New York, alone, in 1996; In 1998 I gained confidence in the GOD of the Impossible, and brought Emmanoel, the son to this arid field.

Two years later i got unemployed, desperately trying to establish myself as a small insurance business broker, which I knew how to execute with gallantry and admirable foresight.

The inconvenience, impulsiveness, disorientation, and lack of planning made me give up the only profession without savings to face the difficulties. Very remote were the chances of reemploying me.

Sheila then appeared in a coincidence of divine providence with my attention; I knew her since teenager, and now i met her at an unusual time, and got invited to congregate in a Christian temple.

After seven days everything was confirmed in a supernatural, unusual and overwhelming way, when I heard spiritually the voice that said:

- You are clean!

To which I answered, looking beyond the blue:

- Yes LORD!

Incoercibly a megabite was recorded with all clarifications oh everything went unnoticed over the past week; Added an unparalleled declaration of love, which said to me:

- The love you always sought and never found is ME.

Excellently appointed, defenestrated by the antagonistic forces, discouraged and dying, I must go to the designated place; I longed for the supernatural. But who would believe me now? After so many mishaps, so much stumbling and glamor; What wisdom did I have? What support would I hate to expect?

CHRIST will provide! In vain would not make such a deep operation; Besides HE'd talked to me! And my heart warmed. I was cured!

The spiritual communion was so tightened that the pastor and members of that congregation adopted me in every meeting, mature in age and spirituality, well aware of the Holy Scriptures, the Book of Hebrews, so exalted by the sages. from Alexandria.

I read daily and day by day, walking with her handy in any situation.

My example aroused the curiosity of the beloved who sought the congregation on a day of celebration and cake, getting baptized after meeting the Lord Jesus as The Christ!

The difficulties remained serious, but the support of the rparents doubled, was the heavenly Emanoel and the earthly Emmanoel. Everything would be fixed!

The inspiration to start our own business came when Sandra served us an apple cake, which provoked me to say:

- Love! If you produce muffins, I'll go to the streets to sell!

Sitting on the black and red-beaded matelassé sofa, on the white formica floor, grená and cream walls, beautifully painted by myself, I heard the inner voice again:

- It's ME!

A fleeting vision of the future added and comforted me.

In the saved from so many cooking training courses the recipes were found.

Sales started at the bus stop; A year later in the malls and schools, in long and exhausting walks from the morning to the end of the night.

LORD JESUS ​​CHRIST! So take my father and the doctrinal controversy with the clerics of the congregation causes a dissension.

MrCOOKIE & MrsMUffIN JUSTdoEAT Foods Ltd was created under strong inspiration; The fantastic concept store, the website, the muffins, cookies and cupcakes suis generis; We rushed to success, until we failed in 2016 facing the communist repression in Brazil.

The experience was devastating, the depression came over me, carcinomas took over my beloved, the children took me as a loser. Lost everything but faith.

The ultimate U-plan was too heavy for the discouraged dreamer. The book did not flow from mind to paper; the supernaturally inspired and manually drafted cover lay protected under 12 stones, prottecting its millionaire value. Unpublished thems, capable to grab the fiercest atheist, it would awaken the Latin and Saxon-speaking market. The intoxicating and intimidating content would reveal an ecclesiastical error, afflicting the Vatican, alarming Catholics and Protestants, would snatch many new souls out of lethal ignorance; It would rock Mr. Mel Gibson, who would leverage Mr. Jorge Paulo Lemann's capital.

What credit, though, for a man who had failed for trhee times? What kind of story teller would be him?

What a miracle I would expect?

Not less than a revealing of the love of the FATHER, JESUS! CHRIST! THE LORD!

October 10, 2019 01:46

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