The Adam Boy

CHAPTER 13 - WHICH OUR CHARACTER IS CONFUSED WITH DON QUIXOTE

It tells this story that, one day when I wake up, I, the main character of this one, went quietly and calmly to have his coffee almost in the afternoon; it was Saturday. As I sat on the chair, still showing no feature or emotion, I started to fill my glass with black liquid and butter a piece of bread without crumbs, not that I'm on a diet, but it's because I don't really like the crumb . When I wet a piece of bread in the cafe, I realize, through the glass door, that my dog ​​was sitting and wagging its tail; waiting for your breakfast too. As I said, my dog ​​is crazy; he only likes you when he wants to eat. We can't pass a hand or pet him, which he already thinks is bad, but anyway, I love the pet very much. I then spread the butter on another bread very carefully. While doing this, my sister entered the kitchen and sat at the table. She saw, with her vixen face, my patience and calmness to spread the butter on a piece of bread. So, I got up, went to the window and threw the bread to the dog that ran to get it. At this moment, my sister looked at me with a face of non-conformity that hurt me and it seemed that every second she looked at me was stabbed.

"You did it all," she began in a calmer voice and the face of a little friend, "for the dog? Did you pass the butter and still wet it in your coffee, just to give it to the dog?"

I didn't even want to answer. After all, he deserved it.

She got up and, when opening the door, the dog tried to enter madly, but was prevented by the screams and screams that she let out:

"GET OUT OF HERE, YOU LATE DOG!"

Poor thing! But the pet, even with that offense, ran away wagging its tail happily.

She left the kitchen with the same face of few friends who had entered. And I? Continue there in the kitchen, alone in silence, munching my bread and looking at the puppy that had returned to the door and was waiting for more food wagging its tail.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, or I don't know why, I hear popcorn, and all the light in the house goes out. Nice! I thought, now I had burned whatever and left the house in the dark. When I went up to my room, I realized that I had energy all over the house. Am I dreaming? Or was he already crazy? I had just witnessed a slight burst and had seen all the energy in the kitchen and the surrounding rooms go out. Why did they still have their lamps on in that room and in the others above?

Then, the narrator of this story recounts, that the main character questioned himself about his possible madness. Was he imagining too much, or just witnessing the surreal?

Still at the bedroom door, I look at the bookcase full of books. I pass the eyes in detail for each one. Some separated by sizes, others by author and some in order of preference. But my heart sped up when my eyes went to a section with 17 books; some large, others small. Some with a burgundy hardcover, another with cardboard paper cover. A thick one that read the author's name and title from afar, and two other thin and almost equal volumes were not one being volume I and the other II. However, all with the same title, just varying the language: Most were entitled "The Ingenious Fidalgo D. Quixote da Macha", two read "The Ingenious Fidalgo D. Quixote de La Mancha", the one with a thick volume. the title "El Ingenioso Hidalgo Don Quijote de La Mancha". Another small and shy book the title was " It represents to this day the most grand and finished expression of the human mind. If the world ended and in the Hereafter we were asked: 'So, what did you learn from life?', We could simply show Don Quixote and say: 'This is my conclusion about life. Is that you? What do you say? '"I shivered every time I read that quote from the Russian author. But was the madness quoted and debauched by Quixote in me too? I sat on the bed and started to think: There wasn't really me remembered reading a book where in a character's house there was only half the lighting. My dog, I thought. "retarded dog", "crazy dog, suffers from behavioral disorders." I had never read the book Marley and Me, but he knew that he told the story of a man who had a dog that was somewhat disturbed and messy.