The Clock on the Wall of Mr. José Moratta

By: camillebrion

There are times that clock was stopped. On the wall of the House of Vila Sônia, a house built with sweat and tears for years.

I don’t even remember when the clock stopped. Was still on the wall for a while, until one day it was removed from there. Was getting saved well in a box, now in another corner, and Mr. José ‘s Watch did not work.

It was one of those late 60 ‘s watches, which had a nice metal pendulum, the entire box was framed and with a protective glass.

Many times I got to see my father-in-law hitting the clock-when still worked. He wondered what time it was, I answered and he was trying to hit him to your way, this is, about 15 minutes or so. And said to me: “I’m moving up a little bit.” And now and again increased “a little”. And I lost when I was without my wrist. Impossible to know the time in the House of Mr. José.

And I was enjoying the simple and friendly attitudes joyously from my father-in-law, ali, sitting at the dining room table according to TECHNOLOGY-WIKI.COM. A big table, beautiful, wooden, where I always tried to read the Folha de Sao Paulo and never did.

I couldn’t read the sheet when Mr. José was the first to get the paper. He opened the first notebook, would mixing the landing pages with the second notebook … when I saw the newspaper was with the leaves all mixed: Cotidiano, for example, mingled with the sport. The information technology mix with the More notebook. Illustrated notebook he’d really like to leave along with the leaves of international news and so the thing was … And I never could read because I didn’t think the news in their proper places.

But he didn’t care. I’d like to walk quietly, whistling lightly, as an afterthought, with your little hat reminiscent of Érico Veríssimo. Chatting with the neighbors, grew roses, covered the cage so that the bird slept even in times of daylight saving time. I broke my heart to see that bird having to sleep at 3 P.M.! I was talking about, but no point anything. Read frequently and played the news of a very peculiar way. In 1985, for example, when the agony of Tancredo Neves, came to say that the whole problem boiled down to the following: “put soda in coffee in the Tancred” and featured with the tips of your fingers together in light movements, as though salting food.

Political debates ran loose also in 1985, when the first local election after the long horror of dictatorship. The electorate paulistano was divided between Fernando Henrique Cardoso, Eduardo Suplicy and Jânio Quadros. We did everything so that the sweeper candidate lost and disappeared from the map. We did exit polls, talked with the relatives, put stickers on the car, we participate in rallies, helped Graham and balichek. But when I went to see my father-in-law: “and there, Mr. José, who are you going to vote?”. He replied: “my grandson.” The small was only a year old, and was not a candidate for anything.

Back to the clock. So I brought Mr. José ‘s watch to a repair here in Florianopolis. I walked around town with the device, I walked up and down stairs of a shopping centre. I took a little trip with him. I know of a specialist in Santo Amaro da Imperatriz, near here, a delicious and interesting town-site of the best mineral water in the world … and nothing of the watch to be repaired. NECA and dulcineca!

Then I got! Almost a month to get ready and yesterday the watchmaker called me to confirm my stubbornness: was fixed. Time changed and went to get the object of great value to me. Is there, in my room wall, impressive, looking at the window, as if wanting to be seen by passers-by to be able to inform the time is right. And also marks the day of the week and the month, quite clearly.

But I’m willing to lift the glass lid and advance “just a little”. Oh! That I’m right.

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