Eu comecei a escrever essa crônica no ano passado e fui acrescentando detalhes com o tempo, até chegar a uma conclusão. Por favor, note que os nomes de alguns personagens (inclusive o protagonista) são de pessoas reais (Abraham Weintraub é o ministro da Educação, Arthur Weintraub é irmão dele e Ricardo Vélez é ex-ministro da Educação). O termo "fan fiction" já implica que a história é uma "ficção de apreciadores".
Inspirado na sitcom "Good Witch".
Telephone
call
Things
were getting weird. Things were getting tough. Nothing was making sense. But
Arthur Weintraub, an insurance manager, kept looking up. He filled a glass with
sarsaparilla, got his phone contact book and dialed someone called Maximillian
Sommerzeit, a physician from the Royal Health Institute.
“Hello,
Max! This is Arthur, Abraham's sibling. I work at the Central Insurance. My
mental health is getting worse and worse... I heard you studied the Royal Arts
of Healing... Could you help me? It's serious!”
“Hello,
Arthur. I don't think I remember you... When did we meet?”
“Last
year... You went to the Central to make an insurance plan. You even brought
your wife, Joanne! She looked so glad to be married to you. How is she, though?”
“Joanne
is fine... We had a child two months ago. It's a boy. We called him
Americus, in honor to my beloved grandfather, Sir Americus Yorkshire, the
Great. What's your mental health problem anyway?”
“Glad
you asked, Max! Sometimes, I feel depressed... My head hurts and the stress is
taking over my body... What do you recommend to me?”
“Mr.
Weintraub…”
“You
can call me by my name, please.”
“Abraham...”
“It’s
Arthur! Abraham is my sibling.”
“Arthur,
I am currently working at the Royal Health Institute. It's near the Suave
Oyster Cafe. If you want, I could book you an appointment! Would you like?”
“Yes,
please!”
“Great.
What day of the week is better for you?”
“Friday...”
“Which
time?”
“Five o'clock...”
“I
can book for you at five thirty. Is it OK?”
“Yes.”
“Your
appointment is booked for Friday, 5:30 pm.”
“Perfect,
Max! Thank you for your cooperation.”
“No,
Arthur! I thank you for calling me.”
When
Arthur Weintraub hung the telephone, he thought. He didn’t want to be neither
rich, famous, nor even the best. He just wanted to be happy... Although he
liked his job as an insurance manager, he really needed some rest. Arthur
finished his glass of sarsaparilla, took a warm shower and went to the kitchen
to prepare dinner.
Daniel,
his father, who suffered from a rare mental disease, was in the living room
watching the breaking news. Arthur called him out, and, a few moments later, he
heard the television shut down sound and slipper steps coming from the living
room to the kitchen. Arthur wasn’t a good cook, but he knew some cooking
tricks. For that night, he had made pork ribs with barbecue sauce, Daniel’s
favorite. As garnish, there were fries and tomato salad.
“It
smells great!” Daniel said. “Where’s Abraham, though? He told me he was going
to join us…”
“Abraham
won’t be able to join us… He’s in a meeting with a foreigner.”
“Business,
I guess.” Daniel wondered. “Well, let’s eat!”
Daniel
and Arthur Weintraub ate the food displayed on the table and went to bed
afterwards. Arthur thought on his life so far while lying on the cushions. All
the objectives and missions accomplished made him feel special in a weird
manner. His thoughts brought him to his former fiancée, whom left him weeks
before marriage. Her name was Theresa Almond. He didn’t know why Miss Almond
would leave him, but he had some clues. One of them involved Charles Sanders,
an airplane pilot. Miss Almond and Mr. Sanders flew to the Caribbean islands to
live there and forget their old lives.
Arthur
turned over and felt a teardrop running through his face. He never forgot
Theresa Almond. Arthur fell asleep.
The
day after, Arthur Weintraub woke up and got dressed. He ate his breakfast and
rushed to his work, at the Insurance Central. The secretary greeted him with
good morning, just as his office colleagues. It was Friday, the day of his
appointment with doctor Sommerzeit.
When
Arthur sat at his desk, his phone rang. It was an unknown calling. The
insurance manager answered the call.
“Hello?”
“Arthur,
is it you?” The caller said. Arthur almost didn’t recognize the voice at first.
“Abraham?
How are you, brother?”
“Well,
things are not as they were expected…”
“What
happened? Was the meeting with the foreigner alright?”
Abraham
voice looked nervous.
“Yes,
that’s exactly what I want to talk to you…”
“What
is it?”
“The
foreigner I met yesterday is actually a drug dealer… He is from Colombia and
his name is Ricardo Vélez…”
“Isn’t
Ricardo Vélez an actor?”
“No!
That’s another Ricardo Vélez! Please, brother, I need help…”
“Listen,
Abraham, I can’t speak right now. I have a meeting scheduled, I call you
later.”
Arthur
hung the phone off and thought in what trouble his sibling Abraham would have
been into. Arthur was younger than Abraham, but it was Abraham who managed to
be in danger most of the times. Many times, the dangers were harmless, but this
time Arthur was really worried. What could this drug dealer Ricardo Vélez do to
his older sibling? There was no way to know.
After
the meeting, Arthur searched on his web browser the identity of Ricardo Vélez.
He found news reporting that Vélez was wanted in Colombia for corruption, money
laundry, drug dealing and being in possession of guns. Vélez was hidden in
Argentina.
The
clock on his computer showed the time. Quarter to five. Arthur got up from his
desk and went to his appointment with doctor Sommerzeit.
Maximillian
Sommerzeit looked exactly the same as the first time Arthur Weintraub saw him.
He was short. He didn’t have much hair, but the hair he had was gray. He was
wearing a physician white coat, with just his last name written in it.
“Good
afternoon, Mr. Weintraub!”, greeted Maximillian Sommerzeit. “What’s the matter,
then?”
“Sometimes,
I feel depressed. My head hurts and I feel weak. What do you recommend me?”
“What
you actually need is some rest, but I will give this medicine. It’s a plant
based drug, made with a root that grows in the middle of Mexico, called
Ayahuasca. Take this once a day, before you go to sleep. Be aware it’s a very
powerful drug.”
“Sure.
I will do everything to get better,” said Arthur. “Thank you Mr. Sommerzeit!”
When
the night fell, Arthur Weintraub took two drops from the medicine and lay down.
It wasn’t difficult for him to fall asleep, any like the other days. In a few
minutes, Arthur was sleeping in a deep rest, which no one could ever wake him
up.
Then,
the dream came. It wasn’t just a dream, it was a nightmare. Arthur was soaked
in sweat beneath the sheets.
In
his dream, Arthur Weintraub was in a cage surrounded by dark shadows. They were
whispering inaudible sounds, but Arthur was terrified. Suddenly, the cage hatch
unlocked and he was pulled out. Arthur was now riding a bicycle in very hot
ground. The front wheels of the vehicle were melting. His bicycle fell down in
a sewer and all he could feel was cold and fear. He managed to get out of the
sewer and saw the sun collide with his body.
Arthur
woke up. He was drenched in his own sweat. Would it be some kind of side effect
of the Ayahuasca pills he took earlier? He didn’t know. Should he call doc
Sommerzeit, telling all the hallucinations he just had? Arthur glanced at the
table clock. 3 am. It was better not to bother the physician.
But
Arthur couldn’t sleep again. He dried himself with a tissue and changed
clothes. He was going for a walk.
Outside
his home, he decided to go in a straight line, without minding the path. If he
got lost, he would turn around and back up to his residence.
There
was a small forest in the dead end of his street, that he had never had the
guts to explore it. Now he had. Under the effect of Ayahuasca pills, Arthur
Weintraub walked forward to the woods.
It
was still very dark and Arthur couldn’t see very well. The insurance manager
saw a weird pile of dirt and leafs near an oak tree. There were also a shovel
and puddles of a red liquid on the ground. Arthur smelled the liquid and
confirmed it was blood. He took the shovel and dug the pile of dirt.
What
Arthur found shocked him. It looked just like the picture from the mugshot of
Ricardo Vélez, in Colombia detention house. There were wounds and scabs in
Veléz’s face, but Arthur still recognized him. He touched his pockets, looking
for his phone, but he realized he had forgotten it in his house. He had nothing
with him.
Suddenly,
Arthur Weintraub heard a “beebeebee” sound. The sun rays warmed his room as
they passed through the blinds. Arthur was drenched in sweat. He took a shower
and went downstairs for breakfast.
The
insurance manager turned on the television. The anchorman in the news segment
looked sad. With a heavy tone, he told his audience:
“A
man around his forty years old was found dead in the woods. His identity
confirms as a drug dealer who was hidden in Argentina. His name is Ricardo
Vélez.”
Daniel
Weintraub, Arthur’s father, turned the TV off.
“I
want bacon.”, he cried.
While
cooking the sliced bacon, that Daniel loved, Arthur dialed to his brother
Abraham.
“Hey,
Abraham, your foreigner friend is dead.”
“I
know. And you are the killer. Congratulations, brother! You did it!”
Arthur
looked confused.
“I
just don’t get it…”
“You’ll
get, trust me!”
Abraham
Weintraub hung up the phone.
Arthur
left his home with his suitcase and entered his car. While leaving the
neighborhood, the people looked at him with disgust.
A
police car chased his car with sirens on.
“Stop
the car right now, Weintraub! We caught you! You’re under arrest.”
Arthur
did what he was supposed to do. The police officer handcuffed him and put him
in the police car.
How
could Arthur Weintraub kill a man if he was sleeping? That story was very
strange, but Arthur preferred not to talk very much. Things were finally
getting tied up. The answers were coming, he felt.
A
news reporter said to the camera as Arthur entered the police station:
“The
murderer of Ricardo Vélez was found and he is going to jail, but with his
punishment shortened, once Ricardo Vélez was a very bad criminal.”
What
a relief.
Arthur
did kill Ricardo Vélez with his bare hands. Everything was clear. In the night
he took the Ayahuasca pills, someone got into his house. It was Ricardo Vélez.
He wanted the money Abraham (Arthur’s brother) promised him if he was ever
reported to the police. The only person with money in the family was Arthur,
because Abraham was addicted to gambling and Daniel was mentally insane. Arthur
got his handgun from the drawer and shot at cold blood Ricardo Vélez to death.
Arthur
went to the garage to get a trash bag and a shovel and went to the woods to
dispose the body, safe that no one would find out. The insurance manager, a few
hours later, after a nightmare that left him soaked, went for a walk in the
mysterious woods and found the body he disposed, revealing his own crime.
After
Arthur’s confession of the crime, he was convicted to life sentence and
fulfilled his dream of being arrested.
As
for Daniel Weintraub, he was sent to a mental asylum and died a couple years later
of pancreatic cancer. No one knew were Abraham Weintraub went. He just
vanished. Some people say Arthur’s brother took the place of Ricardo Vélez,
selling drugs and living in incognito in Argentinean grounds.
THE
END
