The Last Woman?
In the marble games of his childhood in Rio de Janeiro, in the years 1955-61, from 9 to 14 years old, he learned that the last one to throw the marble towards the farthest hole (there were three small holes lined up, made by spinning the heel of a shoe in the dirt of the little park) had a certain advantage in the game. He wasn't the only one to notice.
There were also the customs and traditions. To ensure he would be the last to throw the marble, he had to be the first to shout "marraio." Of course, that was as long as there wasn't a bigger kid with a tough look.
By the way, the girls in the group were only interested in the bigger boys with tough looks. He wasn't even mean, let alone have a tough look... At that age, the girls who were interested in him were just little kids. All he could do was withdraw into his insignificance. And so, he carried on with life.
When he was about 55 years old, after two marriages and about ten brief and unremarkable relationships, he was invited to a small lunch party with his childhood-adolescent friends at Cecília's house.
He saw people he hadn't seen in 40 years, including Edna, one of the girls who had stood out the most in the group, both for her appearance and her personality. Still beautiful and elegant, though already showing signs of age, just like him. She was aware of this and wore a mustache. When she got distracted and didn’t smile, her skin would wrinkle, creating a kind of barcode effect around her lips. Women don’t wear mustaches, so they had to smile constantly and use creams that supposedly stretched the skin but removed facial expressions. He was relieved to see that Edna still looked natural.
Aside from any joking, Edna, who was also on her third divorce, had traveled quite a bit. That classmate who had never caught his attention before—perhaps because he didn't have a tough look—had earned a reputation as a successful professional, cultured, well-traveled, and, perhaps because of time, had started to seem very attractive to him. How had he never noticed that before?
He also looked at her, thinking about how many times he had gone to bed thinking about her. How many fantasies.
He realized the opportunity was there and thought, if I wasn’t one of the first, let me be the last.
Approaching her, he already started saying "marraio" and risked a kiss, which she returned. She asked him why he used the word "marraio." He explained.
She was kind, saying she had been improving herself for him until then. He softly replied: _ "Me too."
Then, sinking the marble into the hole was a record—it took about 30 minutes. It happened in the bathroom of that apartment in Ipanema, with Cecília noticing and orchestrating, putting a chair by the door and asking everyone to use the other bathroom, claiming this one was out of order.
This happened some time ago. They only regret the lost time.
Or maybe not.
Miguel Fernández y Fernández
Engineer and columnist 2,713 characters
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