Cyclic

By José Anilto dos Anjos

José was alone. He needed to give direction to his life, to start a new cycle. For this, he left for his hometown in search of his roots, but fate prepared him for a surprise ...

Cyclic

A lonely, unemployed young man returns to his hometown to try to start his life over. However, as soon as he arrives, a bad joke causes an accident that leaves him on the verge of death. Does he have reason to fight for life?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BadPress
• Release date: Dec 13, 2020
• ISBN: 9781071579886

José Anilto dos Anjos

José Anilto dos Anjos (author) Captain José Anilto dos Anjos, 56, Pernambucan. Military policeman and writer. José Anilto dos Anjos, is the son of Franscisco Soares dos Anjos and Onécia Paes de Oliveira dos Anjos, was born on July 3, 1957, in the city of Alagoinha, Pernambuco.   At the age of eight months he came with his family to São Paulo, where he lived briefly in the city of Espírito Santo do Pinhal, in the interior of the state of São Paulo, shortly thereafter going to the village of Caturaí, in Goías, where his father, a construction site by profession , built a wooden house near the quarry where he worked, in the woods located on the outskirts of the city. Then the family moved to the city of São Geraldo and, in 1961, returned to their hometown, Alagoinha - PE, residing there until 1965, when they came to the city of Ribeirão Pires-SP, where they currently live. From 72 to 78 he worked in the metallurgical industry, and in 1979 he joined the Military Police of the State of São Paulo as a soldier, having worked in Ribeirão Pires until 1982, when he was approved at the Military Police Academy of the State of São Paulo, starting his official service. He specialized in Systems Analysis, Public Safety Intelligence and Road Traffic. He worked in several Military Police Units, among them the Military Police Internal Affairs. He joined the reserve in 2005, as Captain.   For the Military Police he was awarded the medals "Merit and Dedication", from the Barro Branco Military Police Academy, "Fifty years of the Military Police Internal Affairs Unit" and Personal Merit Awards. From 2005 to 2008 he was Chairman of the Board of the Security Council of Ribeirão Pires, having received the Biennial Franco Montoro Award for Community Services twice in a row, for the projects "Vizinho Solidário" (2006) and "Conselho Jovem" (2008). He currently dedicates himself to social projects, through the Rotary Club Ribeirão Pires -

Book preview

... destiny is like the universe:

CYCLIC

José Anilto dos Anjos

CYCLIC

... destiny is like the universe: cyclic!

October 2017

Copyright © 2017 by José Anilto dos Anjos

All rights reserved

Anjos, José Anilto dos

Cyclic: romance / José Anilto dos Anjos. - Ribeirão Pires: Independent edition, 2017.

1. Brazilian romance. 2. Brazilian Literature

José was alone. He needed to give his life a direction. Living a new cycle ...

Jumps

––––––––

"No! Not again!

Desperate, José held on to the front seat of the bus, where an elderly woman was been sitting.

In the next minute, the four passengers in the back came forward, still half sleepy, to find out what had happened. After traveling a hundred meters along the uneven shoulder, the bus had finally managed to stop without further damage.

- Are you all right? The driver asked as he opened the cabin’s connecting door.

- What happened? - asked a woman.

- It was a horse. He crossed the track suddenly. I had to play to the shoulder, and the bus almost toppled. Fortunately the shoulder here is flat, despite being full of holes. - The driver noticed the trembling boy who was being calmed by the elderly lady in the front seat. - Is everything okay with him? He asked worriedly.

Yes, it was just a scare, replied the lady.

- I’m fine, - said José, still a little unsure.

The driver got off the bus, checked for damage, hit the tires and returned minutes later.

- Let’s get back on the road. Another forty minutes will arrive at the Valadares bus station. We will arrive around five-thirty in the morning, just before the scheduled time, so we will have time to have a good coffee and forget the scare - he announced, and then closed the connecting door and resumed the trip.

Despite the unforeseen stop, the trip had not been delayed. They would spend a total of 44 hours to complete the route between São Paulo and the city of Arcoverde, in Pernambuco. They were already traveling for about 17 hours, and at the next stop there would be a change of driver.

- Sit here, boy. Let’s talk for a bit, - invited the old lady from the front seat.

José, without saying anything, accepted the invitation and sat down next to her. Visibility was very good, but he was a little uncomfortable being so close to the windshield. It took a few minutes to get used to. He had barely dozed off during the night, overcome by a mixture of anxiety and fear, and the sight of the road coming towards him was making him a little dizzy.

- Are you really OK? If you want I have a soothing pill. I always carry a pharmacy with me

No, thanks. That time is up. I'm fine." I just thought it was going to happen again. Thirteen years ago, when I came to São Paulo, the bus crashed and ...

José stopped undecided.

- You can tell what happened. Sometimes talking is good.

- Aren’t you going to sleep anymore?

- No, the day has already dawned, and soon we will stop. There’s no use trying to sleep again.

"Yes, that’s true. I better watch the road, even though it makes me dizzy.

- Get used to it soon. In the meantime, tell me what happened to you.

"All right.

A whirlwind of memories occupied José’s mind. The almost forgotten past came back clear, painful. After a brief silence, he started to tell what happened:

"I was seven, and came with my family from Pernambuco. Me, my mother, a sister, who was much smaller than me, and my grandmother. My father had come a few months earlier to work, managed to buy land and started building a house. It was possible to live in it, but it was going to take some time to be completely finished. Then he had a heart attack and died. As my mother was not going to be able to continue supporting herself without the help he sent every month, she decided to try her luck in São Paulo. At least I had the house, we wouldn’t have to pay rent. Mother was a great seamstress and, if God helped her, she would be able to stay in São Paulo.

It was a tiring trip. At that time, the bus took well over two days, and the roads were very bad. Only when we arrive in São Paulo do we take good roads. The driver was running too fast to try to catch up.

Then, when we were almost there, a cart lost control and crossed in front of the bus. The crash tore across the side of the bus. The bus left the runway and fell on a bluff. I must have passed out. When I opened my eyes, my sister’s face was right in front of me, almost against mine. Her eyes were still shining, but she was no longer there. Startled, I closed my eyes and stayed like that for a long time. When I opened it again, the light in my sister’s eyes had already gone out. I was stuck between the benches, under a mess of things. The side of the driver’s side had been torn by the cart, and it was up, all passengers on that side had died. On the other side, only the front passengers survived. Me and my grandmother, and about four other passengers.

I had to wait for people to take everything off me and cut some irons in order to be saved. Despite everything, I only had a few scratches. My grandmother had nothing. My Mom..."

He took a deep breath.

"My mom and sister were on the driver’s side. They were very hurt. They only let me see my mother’s face, the rest had been covered. When I was removed from the hardware, they saw that I had no major injuries and left me with my grandmother. She was waiting in a corner, next to the bodies of the family. He was praying a third, and when he saw me, he pulled me to her and continued to pray. After that I don’t remember well. I think we passed a hospital and stayed there for a couple of days, until the bodies were buried and what was left of the luggage was returned. We finally went on our journey. A friend of my late father was waiting for us at the bus station and took us to the house. He did his best to make us well, introduced us to the few neighbors in the neighborhood, but as he was already booked, a week later he left. We were a little lost in that unknown village.

The neighbors were good people, and seeing that we were not able to survive alone, they arranged for the church staff to bring us food every month. Grandma took care of the house, the way she could. She even offered to wash clothes, but she was too old, and was unable to get service.

The neighbors made a joint effort to finish the missing part of the roof. The house was small, it would have two bedrooms, a living room, kitchen and bathroom, but one of the rooms was half finished, we made it a balcony.

I went to school. I was a little late, but I managed to keep up with the class. In my days off, I cleaned yards to earn some money. And so we survived".

Wow! How strange... Now I understand your scare. These things are well kept in our heads, and only appear at those moments.

‘She is that. I hardly remembered that accident anymore, but when the bus got off the road and started to shake, everything came at once, as if it were going to happen again. I am still shaking...

- Well, those things are past. The important thing is that you are fine. Soon we will arrive at Valadares, there is time to have a coffee and stretch our legs. Look, we’re already entering the city.

The first neighborhoods were already appearing, just like so many others on the outskirts of large cities. A plethora of houses, most still unfinished, narrow streets, cars everywhere. The bus left the highway and entered a narrow avenue. Ten minutes later, he stopped at the city bus station, just before six o’clock.

*

- Governador Valadares Highway! The driver announced, opening the connecting door. - 40 minute stop. The bus will be sanitized, and then it will park on the other side of the platform. From now on, another driver will take over. Have a good trip, everyone.

The two couples who occupied seats in the back were the first to leave. Afterwards, José helped the lady down, and she went straight to the bathroom.

- It was quite a scare, wasn’t it? - the driver asked José when he found him at the cafeteria counter.

- Yeah ... I just had an accident before. I lost my family.

"Ah, I get it. So it was no wonder. Good thing it was just a scare this time.

"Thanks for that.

- I was also shocked when that horse crossed the track. Lucky that the shoulder was flat. Damn animal! Here from time to time an animal is run over, but it was the first time this happened to me.

- It seems that there are many plantations and farms on the side of the road.

‘That’s right, Joe. The people use every piece of land to plant coffee. And the bugs are loose. According to the scares, there is an average of one per trip. I think the quota for this trip has already been met. The rest will be quiet.

José smiled, and the driver went to the company room, after wishing him a good trip.

- Want something? Asked the clerk solicitously.

- Coffee and bread and cheese.

While he waited, José watched the surroundings. The bus station was not very large, most of the central space was occupied by tables. In one of them, José’s two traveling companions were drinking coffee and talking quietly. Aside from that, the place was empty. The elderly woman had just come out of the bathroom and was headed for the coffee shop.

José’s request arrived, and he decided to wait for the approaching lady. This would give the boiling coffee time to cool down a little. He had sympathized with that old lady who reminded him of his grandmother.

She approached smiling. When she saw that he had already ordered her coffee, she exclaimed excitedly: - That’s right! Nothing like good coffee to lift your spirits. I will also take one. - The lady turned to the clerk and placed her order.

- I still don’t know your name. Mine is Francisca, "she said.

- My name is Jose. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Francisca.

The clerk brought the order, the two concentrated on the coffee. Dona Francisca asked for a piece of cake.

- I don’t usually eat a lot on the trip. It can do harm. Especially when we passed Minas Gerais. Bahia has very spicy foods, so I only ask for the lightest foods.

‘I didn’t know that. I will pay more attention.

While they ate, Dona Francisca spoke about her past, about her husband who died ten years ago, and about the constant trips she made, taking advantage of the free bus company.

- And, out of curiosity, what is your destiny? She asked suddenly.

- I’m going to Alagoinha. I was born there.

- I’m going there too. Only I don’t stay in the city, my sister lives in the Perpétuo Socorro district, about twelve kilometers further out. You can come and visit us. It is good to receive friends. Yes, that’s an idea. I’ll write down the address, her house is right next to the church.

He rummaged through the bag until he found paper and pen, and made the necessary notes.

- Leave it, I will. I will need friends, said José smiling, after putting the paper in his pocket. Then he added: - As far as I know, I have no one to call family or friends over there.

Dona Francisca looked at him puzzled, but asked nothing. They still talked about trivialities, while they waited sitting on a wooden bench.

Finally the bus pulled up to the platform, and soon after they left.

*

The bus left Valadares, heading north along the curvy road. Until reaching the border with Bahia it would be like this, and then the endless and monotonous straight lines that crossed that state would come.

- Do you want to sit here with me? - Dona Francisca asked José, after half an hour of travel. - So you can see the landscape better.

José moved to the front seat. He had adapted to the vision of the road running towards him, and he no longer felt dizzy.

- This region has some very beautiful places. As I always do this way, I even decorated the landscapes. The advantage of being old is that the front seat is always ours.

- I still find it a little strange to be so close to the windshield. One day I get used to it.

- Good, so you mean you’re going to travel more often? Are you going to stay a long time in Alagoinha?

- If it works, I’ll live there. Maybe I meet a pretty girl and get married? So far I have had no luck in São Paulo. - José replied smiling.

- It’s full of pretty girls over there. If it depends on it, it will stay there. And you are a very handsome guy, there will be no lack of interested.

José blushed.

- I’m going to stay for good. If it doesn’t work out there, I think of another place. I have no intention of returning.

- You never know what can happen, do you? I believe you will like the city.

I think so. I was very small when we came to São Paulo, but my few memories are very good.

Yes, it was true, thought José. Good memories. Child’s memories: father’s caresses, mother’s affection, games, walks, the street where he lived, other boys and girls his age. He didn’t remember any names, but his memories were full of smiles and joy.

During his life he had imagined many things, made many plans, but the events hardly corresponded to what he expected. Right now he was alone, traveling to a place he barely knew, in search of something he didn’t know for sure. His only compass was good childhood memories. He could have stayed in São Paulo, with a good job, and played his tasteless life, but he had decided to go to a place where at least he still had some roots. Without that, he would be absolutely alone in the world, as the last survivor of an unfortunate family. Of course, he had friends, he had never had any difficulty with that, but friends were not related, and in that regard, he could consider himself alone in the world. Unless you found someone of your blood.

Time passed, and they enjoyed the view. From time to time Dona Francisca would comment on somewhere.

*

- And your grandmother? It’s gone? Didn’t you tell me ... or did I forget?

- No, you haven’t. I still haven’t told you what happened to her. Do you want me to tell you? It’s not a very pleasant story ...

- I have been through many things in this life. And, as I said, talking about the past can help people live better, even if that past was not very good.

‘Yes, I know. The old people who helped me always said that.

Perhaps talking would really do him good, José thought next. When he talked about the accident, it seemed that the weight of misfortune had eased a little. In the past few years, he had not had the opportunity to discuss his past with anyone.

"So, tell me. I was curious about it - encouraged the lady.

- It was a fatality, - said José, and continued:

"It happened almost two years after we arrived in São Paulo. It was the end of the year, the last days of school. The weather was oppressive and I hurried to get home soon. On the way, I remembered the class. It had been the rehearsal day for the closing party of the year. The holidays were taking longer to arrive than the previous year, due to the delay in the start of classes, as the school had been torn apart by a storm and the repair had been slow. But anyway, the end of the year was approaching and the holidays would soon come. Good opportunity to earn a buck here and there, cleaning yards.

Our room had two mixed classes: the first year and my second year. The first-year children were rehearsing a small song that was a reason for the elderly. Most of the little ones seemed ashamed when they sang the verses out of tune:

The kittens, the cute kittens

When they sleep, they quietly

So cute: rom,