Souls Theater
The lights were becoming dim, misty, barely noticeable. Resembled small disembodied souls who tried to embrace in a flash balie blurred and confused, in a display of movement that could no longer lit radiate the force before. It was then when the shadows blended with the subtle light, eager to gobble up the few highlights that have swarmed around the room.
No less spectacular was the time when the murmur of the people would appease with excessive slowness, it ended in a soothing silence and not let anyone break easily. I remember that moment as the climax of the function, since, although the work had not even begun, that time was the prelude to the wonder that was about to happen, the threshold of history that intoxicate me mercilessly until disconnecting the real world stepped on my feet all day. Then he opened the curtain. The silence became even more plausible. I reveled in my seat as the child was restless, and took positions to enjoy the best fifty minutes each Saturday.
That day I was sitting beside the empty chair, the seat number fourteen, which always left vacant by those who said that the theater could never complete, always had to leave a seat for disgrace not happen (that's what I heard, but did not quite understand).
before a woman was wearing a flamboyant hat decorated with feathers that barely let me see but my smallness (feet did not reach the floor, and hung swinging) prevented me venture to tell the good lady to take off what was he carried in his head.
finished The curtain opened, and revealed a small stage that appear intended decor of an old cemetery. I remember as a squiggly smoke attempt to embrace the fake tombstones, while the sound of a distant howl echoed in the room like a plaintive cry.
A shadow began to take shape on stage. Light bulbs was intensifying to highlight the silhouette of a woman coming out slowly the dark with faltering steps and staring beyond the last row of seats. He stopped at one of the headstones, but not laid eyes on her, just came up and stroked her delicate hand. Then she sobbed, putting his hand to his mouth, cried inconsolably repeating a name that I could not understand very well.
- William ... - seemed to whisper - William ... - Or maybe it was "Lydia"?
The woman, neatly dressed in a sort of white gown that reached to his feet (Do people went to the cemetery in his pajamas?) Knelt down and dropping if it had no weight, and her pale face sunk in his hands as the sobs grew louder.
- William - he repeated, now more clearly.
Then the woman bent feather hat was what I imagined would be her husband and whispered:
- See William, is named after you.
That was naive elderly So strange was that there were repeated name in the world? Sara and I called in my class were at least three Saras. Extend my neck as far as I could with the absurd hope of seeing through of the tangle of feathers that moved restlessly from side to side. I could only stand idle snorting and sulking.
Suddenly, she joined the stage violently and fixed his eyes directly on the audience, but seemed not to see us.
- He had it coming! - Bellowed harshly - So many years living a lie ... So many ... He then took both hands to his mouth as if you regret what I just said, and with a grimace on his face, we were turning away slowly showing long, blond hair.
- Sorry William, not just for you ... - he whispered
The lady with the feather on his head, bowed again covering my husband was little prospect that I had. He whispered something in his ear that I could not understand. I was fidgeting in my seat with the certainty that the good lady would know his nerve, and stop whispering and behaving like a mischievous fly. No luck, it's, women pen, as I begin to call, he was leaning over the shoulder of her husband's poor and suffering, completely hiding my little rectangle of vision. The cemetery and the actress dressed in white, turned to me in detail nonexistent. I sat in my seat, resigned and cursing my luck, and I closed my eyes for a moment.
- Terrible right?
The voice startled me as I jumped a bit ridiculous and maybe funny (for more, for me it was something important) I looked to my left, fourteenth always empty chair, and saw a man about thirties, dressed very rare, very old clothes, as if from another time or another century. I remembered the actor in a play I saw not long ago in this very theater, "The Picture of Dorian Grey", a certain Oscar Wilde.
- I mean this lady ... this absurdity do not think that is an abominable disrespect?
I kept looking at him with eyes wide open, so I thought I would fall basin despendolados then roll across the floor of the theater. Where did this man come so strange? The seat was empty ...
- Well ... yes - I said almost in a whisper.
- Look, the actors are doing their job, and not a job either, it's art, acting, feeling. It is a combination of colors whose canvas is the stage. His tone was serious, and when he went for his mouth becomes syrupy, with a touch almost aristocratic.
- Finally, there are always people who do not know how important the work of an actor. I was very surprised to see that no one turned to look at the man and ask him to shut up, because, at least for me, I was talking too loud and certainly must have been within earshot of the other spectators.
- Oh, Holy God - exclaimed a hurry - How rude, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Alvaro de Leon what you are ...?
He held his pale hand and looked at a few seconds before putting mine on hers. I found that her skin was neat and spotless, free from any imperfection, it was like you had used for the smallest job.
- I am Sarah - said in a whisper, hurry to the noise that we should be doing. And then my little extra time to catch his hand. My heart sank, I was shocked, stunned, barely if I could feel the blood rushing through my veins. My fingers passed through his hands as if they had not touched anything, as if the man, Alvaro de Leon, was made of smoke.
- Ah ... yes is normal. I always forget I can not touch people.
- Are you a ghost? - Asked to open her mouth as I thought it was going to dislocate the jaw.
Alvaro de Leon made a gesture with his hand as if to downplay the issue. - Yeah, well, for almost one hundred years ... But please, do not you call me. I consider myself a young man you know?
Suddenly, the woman pen, turned slowly to lay her weary eyes on mine. Did not look very friendly, the truth, and I was a little creepy to see her so closely. Had face painted in exaggerated form, therefore, that the path of its many wrinkles are accentuated even more under the cloak of artificial color.
- Have you come alone, child? - I asked Mum to face lady in a serious and arrogant - Do not have a father being told when to keep silent? My answer was a faint blinking disbelief. I could not otherwise defend myself because my mind was not able to enact anything that made sense at the time. Did not have a responsive chord in the circumstances.
However, Alvaro de Leon, was scrutinizing a very quiet lady and with an expression on their face showed anger. After standing thoughtfully a few seconds, sit up slowly and leaned toward the woman could pen without realizing that his presence. Then with a quick, agile, snatched the feathered hat that flew through the air like a flying saucer escacharrado had lost its way.
- Run to save for his hat and his rudeness in your pocket! - Alvaro de Leon cry. The lady rose from his seat while outlining a shrill cry and ridiculous. His face was very red and grabbed his head as if he were to fall the ground.
- Tu! Bug dwarf - bellowed addressing me - Go get my hat before I call the guard and throw you in jail.
People incorporated the seats to watch us, while the actress, dressed in her white nightgown, his client had stopped sobbing without knowing exactly what happened and how he must act.
I Crushers in my seat hoping no one saw me, and mumbled some words out of my mouth in fits and starts.
- I have not been ... - I managed to say, not without considerable nervousness. - You dare to lie, girl devilish?
The woman's husband was incorporated pen with a wave of gloom on his face and grabbed his wife by the arm to make it sit.
- Let Gloria, is only a child. Sit not let anyone see the play. Look, even the poor actress is idly on stage. Thanks to the intervention of Mr. William Arrese, the lucky husband of that woman, the work could continue without further incident, and I'm free to a good scolding in return for collecting the hat was not pulled.
Alvaro de Leon and the rest was not representation. The seat number fourteen again stood empty, tidy, free from any stain caused by the back of the man who caused so much havoc in the delicate fabric of the seats, deforming to leave a hole which was then quite uncomfortable to sit.
not remember being so angry like that day. Ghost because I had been very upset, and last but not least, even had the courage to face (well, it was a little difficult. People were scared) But, alas, I could have given some support, a "sorry" at least. After the lady had got me not with him. Since then, the experience of seeing a ghost for the first time was not very pleasant.
When the function ended, I stayed in my seat waiting to come out around the world, because I owe much shame that people see me after he had bundled. I was sure everybody I would point the finger and say to each other, look, this is the girl who has ruined the work. And then I would look with contempt, be labeled me rude and finally, the owner of the theater I would ban the entry.
In ten minutes, clear the entire room. Fortunately there was very large and its capacity did not allow Over one hundred people.
Silently, I left the room and I went into the lobby, where there was still people, but if delayed more than me because my mother scold me too and then my usual Saturday splendid become my worst nightmare.
The lobby was all marble, even the walls, reflecting my little body as he tried to go unnoticed. I lowered my head without noticing the meticulous decoration that I loved: the vaulted ceiling which seemed to make stained glass mosaics on the floor, the flamboyant columns resembling ancient temples Romans, the chandelier made of diamonds in tears (then, I thought they were diamonds) that the ladies called "spider" and who used to watch with pride as he said they also had in their classrooms. The old photos and portraits of actors who had gone through the stage during the last hundred years ... I could not help stand up a second and head to see the old pictures. Never used to noticing, but I thought that it must be important people were exposed when so delicately. I made sure nobody was watching me and pointed at me and opened his eyes to fully capture the altarpiece hand painted paintings that occupied much of the marble wall.
it was hard not knowing him just an hour had passed since I spoke with him. It was the portrait above was right next to the face of a beautiful young actress. Alvaro de Leon, prayed, and below: Died in 1910 while representing his masterpiece "The Lord of Illusions."
- The truth is I'm not much favored in that picture. That day I was sick with a terrible stomach ache.
I turned to look at the ghost and with all the seriousness of which I could (not very well I would get that look, because I had great legs and always seemed to be happy) - I will not talk to you - I resent - your fault that the lady has annoyed me. "Oh, that lady is a fool. Someone had to let them know.
- What happened? Why are you still here? - I asked because my curiosity was stronger than my anger. Alvaro de Leon raised his eyebrows and shook the hills gracefully, as if to reveal an ancient secret that had been hidden a long time.
- You see ... It was while performing. Rodrigo, another great actor from my company and I were confronted by ... a woman's fault. You can see in that picture there, on your right - pointed to a table with a thick frame of gold, which could see a man with the face very serious and hard, somewhat higher than Alvaro de Leon , and very white hair.
- was a betrayal, a heartless cowardly act. I stuck a knife when We ended the role.
the ghost looked horrified. It was really a tragedy, like the stories told by my mother on desolate spirits who could not find his redemption because of an unexpected and early death. Like those lonely souls who wandered in search of answers, and sometimes revenge.
- So, since then, I am every Saturday in the free seat and enjoy all the works that I can not represent.
Without realizing it, the clock and score more than eight and a half, and that meant that the theater had closed its doors until the next morning, they came to clean.
In a blink of an eye, I was not aware, the people had disappeared, leaving only that the hall was cold and uncomfortable, as if a cloud had swallowed the helplessness to keep them in a strange place, away from the warmth.
Alvaro de Leon also was gone. I was left alone in the tangle of helplessness.
- It's all your fault! - I shouted to nothing knowing that the ghost could hear from somewhere.
I sprinted to the front door and grabbed her big knobs with the thought that they could not be closed, it was impossible that I had left there alone. But it was not only possible, it was a reality.
Support my fine back in the double leaf door and sighed relieved to see that at least had not turned out the lights.
Then, on the corner of my eye, I saw a shadow slipped quickly through the door into the living room armchairs. Would any employee of the theater? Hopeful, I went running down the hall while my shoes echoed through the marble as if they were sharp drums.
- Hello? - I cried looking everywhere without seeing anyone - Hello? I've been locked Could open up?
- Ja, ja, ja. That what you get for talking to who should not, girls. The voice seemed to come from behind the stage, just where the actors were placed between scenes.
- Who is it? - I asked with narrowed eyes and a frown.
- Your salvation - This time the voice came from my back ...
I turned, not getting used as a start, and saw a middle-aged man with white hair and flushed facial skin. Then I remembered the portrait of Rodrigo who had taught me Alvaro de Leon. It was, no doubt. But far from being frightened, he bravely stood up and pointed an accusing finger moving threatening.
- I knew you too would be on here ... - I said in a tone braveador. - Do you also died at work?
Rodrigo's ghost shook his head as if he was both surprised and angered by my words.
- But most insolent girl ... Not so! I've seen talking with the traitor and as I thought their lies, because ... - He bent to fit my height and lowered his voice - ... who was the murderer while serving me ... Well, actually we killed us both. She was tired of that situation, tired to hear the stories of bored ghosts that had been locked in a theater and engaged in throwing their hats to the ladies then blame me. I had to stop it soon. I had to get out. - It was all because of you, Rodrigo! - Now it was Alvaro de Leon who was screaming from the stage. - Your temperament led us to the grave.
- My temperament you say? You nailed me the knife and I defended myself.
While they were arguing heatedly advantage to get away from there with a few cautious steps, slow and difficult to detect.
quickly than I thought, I come to the lobby and began to run to the door, remembering that he had a small bell on top that could push someone to listen to me.
- Where you going?
Alvaro de Leon came out of nowhere to cut in just a few feet from the door.
- If where you going?
Rodrigo came behind me.
My momentary courage was beginning to disappear at times. No I was tired of the situation, but rather frightened. - I'm going to my house. It's late.
Alvaro de Leon laughed loudly, as do the bad actors when they are about to finish a terrible action.
- Darling, you can not go home. Now you have to stay here with us. You have to discover which of them is right. Rodrigo nodded supporting the motion. - No, I can not stay ...
- Sure you can, and do it because there is no turning back. You will join us and will decide who is right. We need someone who what you do and you're sitting next to the seat fourteen, which is why you have chosen.
My chest was thumping rapidly and relentlessly, trying to pump all the serenity possible, but that was a task too difficult. The two ghosts were coming to me like wolves approach their prey, marauding, hungry, with their claws ready to strike at any moment ... The noise of the applause made me jumped up and brought me out of the chair causing my heart pulsate with unusual force. Disoriented look everywhere and later discovered that I was at the end of the show, with people up and clapping excitedly shouting "bravo." The actors bowed and looked to the public satisfied.
had been a dream. All I had dreamed. I sighed relieved and prepared to cheer like everyone else to cover my sassy nap. And my joy was increased when I saw before me the woman uttering inaudible words pen in the ear of her husband.
We left the room and we stumbled into the hall amid a flurry of whispers uncontained and severe criticism. This time when I noticed the decor, and feel free to enjoy it without fear of someone pointing a finger. I could also see on the landing the front door, as my mother expected me to stand and forcing a half smile that lit up his face. I rejoice to see it ...
- Where you going?
That voice ... That sweet tone ... I turned slowly, waiting for a spectator was addressing me, or known someone would have recognized me in the lobby and I would wonder what was my address, but that was not what I found. The face of Alvaro de Leon latent watching me, hiding behind the human tide that would leave the theater ...
