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Because - Ovidiu Bufnila

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While on Terraria planet the Time Gates were opening, 
Atlanticus Ocean was throwing, on its hot beaches, glassy 
corpses, rusty airplanes, broken gramophones, flattened 
refrigerators, yellowed diaries, swollen books of too much 
humidity, broken statues, hollow pots, washing machines made 
like balls, shabby sport shoes, condoms teared to rags, 
shrivelled box gloves, off-colour electoral posters, cracked 
casks and many other things that made the Terrarians run 
after, from morning till evening, very curious and 
frightened. Sometimes, the magnetic fields being devastated, 
from that whole mixture of crushed and twisted forms were 
born varied creatures which were giving much trouble to 
everybody. 

Some of them were stupid, other were extremely intelligent. 
They seemed to be undestroyable, so the world started to 
tolerate them, to avoid them or  just to ignore them. Nobody 
was wondering when, in the morning, through the mauve haze, 
a silver bike with lilac wings and a crocodile head which 
was yelling to some hurried passer-by, was whizzing in the 
air:

“Hey, man, what time is it?!”

Many Terrarians had made a mad passion  for the music 
instruments discovered through the sand dunes. They were 
fighting hardly and, sometimes, just for being the only 
owners of a violoncello or of a harmonica.

The shop-windows from Monte Carlito, one of the most 
confused little towns from Terraria, were full of fairy 
lightened aquariums where multicoloured glassy corpses were
floating. They were well packed and they were wearing 
phosphorescent labels where you one could see exorbitant 
prices. There was an exciting rumour that, if you transfered 
your energetic foundation in one of those corpses, you could 
find out interesting things about the little planet Terra 
which was placed on the other side of the Time Gates. 

Moreover, they said one could became immortal.

This crazy thought hovered for some time a policeman from 
Monte Carlito, a big and fat guy, named Mallory. His shiny 
badge had the 1000 order number. There were so many 
policemen who were always patrolling along the little city, 
ready to shoot a thief’s skull.

The criminality and the prostitution were in bloom because 
Monte Carlito was changing its geographic position due to 
the temporal whirlwinds, travelling along the beaches of 
Atlanticus Ocean. That made its inhabitants very melancholic 
or too violent. One could frequently see some Terrarian 
teared to pieces with the axe or ears and eyes hung on the 
semaphores from the intersections, on the street.

Since he has been working in Octopus, the most dangerous 
neighbourhood, Mallory decided to change the world, to 
fulfil the Good. He was making sermons and sermons to the 
little whores and to the gays. 

Under the threat of his silver revolver, the pickpockets had 
to learn by heart verses from a bible which Mallory found 
one day on the ocean shore. Even though the bible had many 
teared pages and it turned yellow, the policeman had read it 
very carefully. The thing that disturbed him very much was 
the news which announced the return of God on the little 
planet Terra.

“You upset God-the Father!” Mallory shouted at the vagabonds 
from Octupus, one cold morning.

He got on a cracked cask and he was shook the bible in the 
air, full of anger. His cheeks got red. One of his eyes 
winking, his lips were thrilling, he was sprinkling his 
saliva right on the toe cap of his new polished shoes. He 
shouted:

“And you won’t be saved, you sinners! You made fool of those
wonderful musical intruments. You broke His heart with those 
pathetic sounds, with those creaks, and that grumbling of 
yours! The haughtiness will lose you, miserables! How can 
you think that just filling your lungs, that rattling you 
could get to that wonderful harmonious link of sounds that 
those people on the little planet Terra are trying for 
thousands...”

“Boooo! Bravoooo!”

“How petty you are! I grieve you! I will think of you! I 
will pray for you! And now I will arrest you all and put you 
in jail!”

Mallory has run after the vagabonds for an hour. They were
hiding behind the garbage bins, they were climbing the 
purple trees, making fun of him. They were angry and were 
shouting:

“If we become immortal, we will be like God-the Father with 
whom you  always threaten us! And then we will ask Him, 
being His equals, how could we sin in front of Him, if He 
didn’t show up at all?!”

Mallory supposed that music was one of those ways. That’s 
why he was keeping in big secret a sax that he used to play 
when the night was coming, after he spoke to God-the Father:

“Forgive me God! Must I disturb Your silence with my 
grunting to get to You?! How helpless I am! But let me try,
let me take a little light, to save those wandering souls 
and robb in Monte Carlito!”

Cramming the vagabonds in his silent van, Mallory felt a 
pang. How many times has he kicked the vagabonds for they to 
become conscious again? Slaming the van’s door, Mallory 
shouts all sweated:

“You fools, even if you become immortal, you couldn’t be 
equals to God!”

“Why, bloodhound?!” they mocked at him.

“Because He is eternal!” chilled Mallory

 

Ovidiu Bufnila was born on August 15, 1957, in Tg.Ocna, Bacau, and studied at Mechanics Faculty, Galati, Romania. He is the founder, among others, of www.imagikon.ev.ro and www.wordmaster.ev.ro.

His novel JAZZONIA was awarded the best Romanian SF novel in 1992

He received the award for the best Romanian SF story, MANDHALA, 2001, the Sigma award, 2002, for excellence in Romanian SF and the Sigma award for the best Romanian SF novel, Moreaugarin’s crusade. As a recognition of his talent, in 2003 he received the annual Clouds Magazine award.

Click here for an essay by Bufnila.

Notice © 2003 IP and the author


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