“TRICK”

Respirava lentamente nas horas que por si passavam. O fim-de-semana havia-lhe proporcionado um espaço de total leveza: o sol que banhava as águas do mangue que cruzavam com as do mar; o vento em tom de espera para ir refrescando o corpo de tempos em tempos; a areia dourada; a paz mortal dos pensamentos. Mas tudo isso eram, agora, memórias. De regresso ao seu quarto, por onde um furacão havia passado, deitou-se na cama com o olhar fixo no teto. O céu estrelado já lá não estava, não como na noite anterior onde constelações e cometas puderam ser avistadas. E, no seu coração, recordações palpitavam de tempos passados, de lembranças que lhe torciam o coração. Uma melodia acompanhava-lhe os pensamentos: A noite do seu aniversário, há oito meses atrás, o dia em que assistira ao mesmo filme que vira naquela noite... E não conseguiu ficar indiferente às memorias que consigo vinham agarradas. E efeito devastador do amor, das palavras, dos olhares... da dureza das expressões e das emoções trocadas. E bastava esperar só vinte minutos e... parabéns! Tudo teria sido mais que perfeito.

“Gabriel sits near Mark. Finally they are alone. Gabriel says:
- Tonight's been a mess.
- Yeah…
- But, you know, some of the mess... I mean… I did have a good time tonight... Even though, you got to admit it was really a mess.
- You know, I would've invited you back to my place, but…
- Aw, it's all right. Don't worry about it.
- No. I would have, but... the lady I told you about...
- Yeah?!
- She's my mother. I live at home.
Gabriel pays the fries and get up:
- I have to pee.
- Me, too.
They go to the bathroom. And during the pee Mark says:
- We're alone.
- Yeah, finally!
Mark starts to sing the song that Gabriel wrote to his musical play:
Enter you. Voilà it’s showtime. I hear the music of a…
They sing together:
- …dance and a dum-diddy…
- Enter you – Mark sing.
- You're singing it wrong.
- What?
- Don't sing it.
- It's a good song.
- Shut up.
- Well, it is.
- You're being polite. Shut up. – Pause – You really think so?
- Yeah. It's really good. Enter you… That's all I know. You have to teach me the rest.
- I need a piano.
- We've already established that.
They touch each other and almost kiss when Mark start to talk again:
- You know, I think it's good how this turned out.
- You do?
- Yeah. We got the hard part over with.
- Oh, what about the sex?
- What kind of a girl do you think I am?

They walk in the streets of New York. They stop in a corner and Mark kisses Gabriel in his mouth. They go near a subway station and Mark writes his phone number in Gabriel’s hand. They say goodbye. Gabriel goes to a public telephone and disc the numbers. We can ear the answering machine:

- Hey, this is Mark. You got me. Leave a message.

Gabriel smiles and start walking singing:

Enter you. Voilà, it's showtime. You brought the house down with a dance and a dum-diddy. Enter you in less than no time. This ugly drama has become pretty. Up went the curtain. My lines felt wrong. Intermission seemed so far away. Applause uncertain. The scenes too long. Life was like an uninspiring play, but now you're here, we meet stage center. I thought my story line was through then from the blue… Enter you!”