THE CITY OF THE LONER - Chapter 16

THE
NINTH DAY

It’s almost ten o’clock.
I woke up a few minutes ago and am still sleepy. The torture of silence of the Maximum Security Prison has already begun in this useless institution. At this moment, my body and soul ache recalling the contrast between last night’s riotous noise and this morning’s terrible calm.

I have to write.
I need to kill time.
There are still three days — three centuries — until I will be released.
The first thing I’m going to do when I get out of here is to pass by the Town Square to relieve my curiosity. I will look at the Loner’s Trophy that now reflects Champion’s features.

On the way there, I’ll stop for a protective dip in the waters of the manmade lake, The Lake of the City. Then I’ll pick up my mother and father and together we’ll go to the CSC to see the Gallery of Heroes for the first time. It will be moving to see the four of us lined up in a row of portraits: Teto, the hero of the Waters; Silvio, the hero of track and field; and my own face along side Pilungo’s as the heroes of the stadium. I know my heart will fill with pride. And as my family and I look up, from above, watching over us all for all posterity we will see the City’s greatest hero of all: Champion.

THE END



THE AUTHOR
Luiz Gonzaga Lopes, was born under the sign of Taurus, on May 18, in the city of Campina Grande, in the state of Paraiba, Brazil. In the Borborema foothills, was born his passion for learning that would lead him to a doctorate in Economics. Since what seems forever to him, he worked for the Bank of Brazil as well as doing consulting work for private enterprises.

Working not only as full professor in the College of Economic Science and the School of Engineering, at the Federal University of Campina Grande, he also lectured in the College of Social Services at Paraiba State University.

In Recife, the capital of the state of Pernambuco, he met his wife, Silvia and the Limongi Lopes clan came into being with the birth of their three sons: Tercio, Marcio, and Silvio Luiz. He doesn’t know exactly what prompted him to try his hand at writing. It's a mistery.

Yet, he enjoys vivid memories of the publishing of his first novel, A Imagem Refletida (The Reflected Image), followed by Entre Aspas (Quote, End Quote), Presença Poética (Poetic Presence), Página Rasgada de um Diário (Torn from a Diary), A Competição (The Contest) and Somos Iguais (Equals).

THE TRANSLATOR

Martha Luhrs Viegas, was born on July 17, 1951 in Toledo, Ohio. Her love of reading was nurtured by her parents who were avid readers and by the Homeville Circle Toledo Public Library.

When Sputnik frightened Americans into the need to know foreign languages, she began a long, unsuccessful struggle to learn French in elementary school. Sadly, even after receiving Bachelor of Arts degree in English from Miami University, she was dismally deficient in language learning.

Upon meeting Brazilian exchange students at Miami U, however, the seed for wanting to master a language was planted and resulted in her seeking a Peace Corps assignment in Brazil, where she would acquire the language through living.

Thirty some years later, Mrs. Viegas, still has an atrocious accent in Portuguese, due to daily English teaching at the American School of Recife. Her love of Portuguese language and the Brazilian people have brought with it insights into the culture that made it possible for her to translate more than words. Mrs. Viegas takes readers into the magic reality of Luiz Gonzaga Lopes in The City of the Loner.

QUOTE OF THE DAY

I don't want to achieve immortality through my work... I want to achieve it through not dying. Woody Allen - US movie actor, comedian, & director

LAUGHTER'S THE BEST MEDICINE

George and his wife Martha went to the state fair every year and every year George would say,

- "Martha, I'd like to ride in that airplane over there."

And every year Martha would say,

- "I know George, but that airplane ride costs ten dollars, and ten dollars is ten dollars."

One year George and Martha went to the fair and George said,

- "Martha, I'm 71 years old. If I don't ride that airplane this year I may never get another chance."

Martha replied,

- "George, that airplane ride costs ten dollars, and ten dollars is ten dollars."

The pilot overheard them and said,

- "Folks, I'll make you a deal, I'll take you both up for a ride. If you can stay quiet for the entire ride and not say one word, I won't charge you, but if you say one word it's ten dollars."

George and Martha agreed and up they went. The pilot did all kinds of twists and turns, rolls and dives, but not a word was heard. He did all his tricks over again, but still not a word. They landed and the pilot turned to George,

- "By golly, I did everything I could think of to get you to yell out, but you didn't."

George replied,

- "Well, I was gonna say something when Martha fell out, but ten dollars is ten dollars."

WORD OF THE DAY

DUFF

Function: noun (count)

Plural: DUFFS

Status: US, informal

Meaning:
The part of the body you sit on : buttocks

e.g.: "Get off your duff (butt, rear) and help me!"

Teaching Tips & Ideas

LET’S FACE IT! ENGLISH IS A CRAZY LANGUAGE - PART 1

We'll begin with a box, and the plural is boxes; but the plural of ox became oxen not oxes. One fowl is a goose, but two are called geese, yet the plural of moose should never be meese.

You may find a lone mouse or a nest full of mice; yet the plural of house is houses, not hice. If the plural of man is always called men, why shouldn't the plural of pan be called pen?

If I spoke of my foot and show you my feet, and I give you a boot, would a pair be called beet? If one is a tooth and a whole set are teeth, why shouldn't the plural of booth be called beeth?

Then one may be that, and three would be those, yet hat in the plural would never be hose, and the plural of cat is cats, not cose.

We speak of a brother and also of brethren, but though we say mother, we never say methren. Then the masculine pronouns are he, his and him, now imagine the feminine, she, shis and shim...!

THE CITY OF THE LONER - Chapter 15

A VICTORY CELEBRATION

It hadn’t lasted long.
Not a single hour had passed during my absence from the Maximum Security Prison. After five days of suffocation within those walls, my escape opened a valve flowing with oxygen and I came back to life. My liberty, though short-lived, gave me the strength to finish off my time. During my stolen freedom I had lived intensely. I had lived my moment of glory and would never forget the happy faces of my fans, smiling, whistling, and yelling as they applauded my unforgettable ride on the shoulders of Chief of Police.

Five days of confinement had opened my eyes and taught me that only those who could control their actions deserve to be free.

I had learned my lesson.
From now on, I would be careful. I hoped that I would not run into anyone who would provoke my temper, but if I did, I promised myself I would control the rage that had landed me in jail for nine days.

In the good hands of Cheif of Police and Judge, I was quickly and painlessly returned to the Maximum Security Prison in the comfort of Judge’s automobile.

I found it strange that he parked the car far from the prison and that he tiptoed in, quietly as a cat. Later, I realized that he wanted to check to see that Jailer was still locked up.

Silently opening the door, he listened carefully.
His eyes scanned the premises. The noise that emerged from within the prison was that of a lock being opened from inside. Judge’s heartbeat calmed down with relief. Jailer had obeyed his order.

“How can I help you, your honor?” he called from his cell.
“Here is the fugitive!” the judge answered.
No one needed to show me the way since I already knew where I was headed.
Back in my cell, I observed Jailer in the cell across from mine. His posture was the same as always — passive, eyes closed, and ears plugged into radio headphones.

Out of the blue, I came up with an idea. I asked Jailer for paper and a pencil and began to write just to kill time. Every once in awhile, I’d stop writing to check out Jailer’s indifference. In his expression, I hunted for a clue as to what was going on at the game. Finally, though I don’t know what I saw in his face, I knew that the game had ended with CC’s victory, thanks to Champion’s bold plan, Pilungo’s great defense, my goal, and to be fair, thanks to Jailer.

Ecstatic, after a while, I stopped jumping for joy and got back to my writing. The rest of my sentence in this lonely, silent hell no longer bothered me. When night fell, I stopped writing. In the distance, I heard the clamor of a multitude interspersed with firecrackers. It reminded me of the stadium. I listened more carefully and noticed that the volume was rising and seemed to be approaching. Fans armed with aqua flags were celebrating CC’s victory.

Making a deafening noise, the excited crowd that left the CSC, marched directly to the Maximum Security Prison. All of the fans, from the most humble to the most important, had joined the procession. In front was Priest with his robes flapping. With him were my parents, Secretary, Mayor, all of the CC team and Champion.

Even Chief of Police accompanied the group!
Only Judge was absent, because as everyone knows, he is not interested in sports.

I thought that I would die of happiness knowing that crowd outside was there on my behalf.
I jumped out of bed, stuck my arms out of the prison bars, and basked in the excitement. Everyone talked, yelled, sang, smiled, applauded in a cacophony, which ended only upon the arrival of Sazefeem playing the City Club fight song. After the last few chords, the captain, Commander, managed to silence the crowd, so he could begin the surprise solemnity planned for Champion, in the event that CC would win the inaugural game. Commander spoke as loud as humanly possible so that the fans could hear.

“On behalf of my CC teammates and the population of the City, as a token of our gratitude, we would like our coach, who is celebrating his birthday today, to accept the Loner’s Trophy."

Before finishing his sentence, Commander handed the splendid trophy to Champion, who as we expected was speechless. Overcome by emotion, he raised the trophy above his head. His vision clouded as tears washed down his face.

Mayor made a short speech expressing his great joy in not only for CC’s victory, but for all of the advantages the opening of the CSC had brought the City. He asked Secretary to read aloud the official decree that as mayor, he had signed that very afternoon.

“What’s going on?” people wondered.
Soon curiosities were appeased as Secretary proceeded to read the three items authorized by the Mayor. Looking quite uncomfortable, Secretary, who had been inching away from the mayor, returned to read the document.

Section 1

By the powers invested in me by the Municipal Constitution, as Mayor of the City, I hereby

A – commission Painter to produce a portrait of the Loner and his friends; and

B – request that said portraits be displayed in the existing frames in the City Museum’s Gallery of City Founders.

When he finished reading the first item, speaking rapidly, Secretary turned to Mayor, spitting out information:

“This request has already been fulfilled: the portraits of the Loner and his 100 friends are ready for viewing, each in its appropriate frame.”

Many people found the Secretary’s behavior odd. With beads of sweat sparkling on his forehead and upper lip, he seemed nervous and hurried. He did not even wait for applause to die down, before rushing through the second item.

Section 2

By the powers invested in me by the Municipal Constitution as Mayor of the City, I hereby

A– Commission Photographer to take portrait shots of the City’s authorities and distinguished citizens, whose names are listed in an appendix attached to this decree; and

B– request that said photographs be displayed in the existing frames in the City Museum’s Gallery of City Authorities and Distinguished Citizens.

After wiping at his face with his handkerchief, Secretary cleared his throat and zipped through the list of names.

Authorities:

Mayor
Judge
Priest
Chief of Police

After another quick pause, he read the very short list of distinguished citizens. In fact, the list included only one name: my father’s.

Just as before, when Secretary finished reading, he announced in a proud, but shaky voice:

“This edict has also already been taken care of. All of the photographs are hanging in their appropriate places.”

Whereas after the first notice he didn’t wait for applause to fade, this time he didn’t give the crowd any time to react at all before he started reading again.

Item 3

By the powers invested in me by the Municipal Constitution as Mayor of the City, I hereby request

A – that a Gallery of Heroes be created;

B – that said gallery be located in the entranceway of the City’s Sports Complex;

C – that photographs of those recognized as heroes by both the population and the City Counsel be displayed as City Heroes; and

D – that Photographer be commissioned to prepare these photos.

Paragraph 1: Below is an alphabetical list of the heroes:

Calunga: Hero of the Stadium
Champion: Hero of Heroes
Pilungo: Hero of the Stadium
Silvio: Hero of Track and Field
Teto: Hero of the Waters

Respectfully submitted: Mayor

Although he was proud of his office and his participation in the ceremony, Secretary had no time for further announcements. Stuffing the documents into his pocket, he ran moaning and holding onto his belly, pushing his way through the crowd in the direction of the public restrooms.
Only later on, did he return to the celebration. After completing his duties, he came back a relieved man. He danced happily all night long to the music of Sazefeem.

Inside my cell, I also danced and laughed and yelled as if I were outside mingling with the CC fans. I stuck my arms out of the prison bars and shook hands with lots of people. I kissed lots of people too, including my mother.

Jailer was still in the cell opposite mine. I looked over at him every once in awhile, and, believe it or not, he was always in the same position. His eyes were closed, ears plugged into the radio. Nothing could perturb him, not even the firecrackers or fireworks set off by Pyrotech. Not even the special Roman candle with over one hundred firecrackers could shake him up. Yet, the zombie didn’t miss a single attraction of the celebration. Tuned into the radio, he knew exactly what was going on. He also knew the latest news from the City. At dawn, a fantastic discovery had been made by a passerby. He and the group he was walking with, stumbled onto a big surprise at the crystal pedestal in the town square.

It was the Loner’s Trophy.
Their first reaction was good. They were pleased to finally see a statue placed on the beautiful pedestal in the park. The inscription on the plaque was short, but sweet:

In memory of the Loner.
After the initial shock, the group stopped to appreciate the trophy. They were startled to note that somehow the statue had changed. The Loner’s features had been transformed into the well known and well loved face of Champion. Whoever passed the Town Square stopped in awe unable to deny the truth, and soon a crowd had gathered to check out the mysterious transformation. Because truth often proves to be illusion, the occurrence generated many questions, and soon curious citizens showed up to investigate the phenomenon. They, in fact, believed that it must have been Painter, the same artist who had created the portrait of the Loner for the City Museum, who had touched up his work. It seemed like Painter had given both men the same features and expression. That would be easy enough to check out. All they had to do was visit the City Museum to compare the two faces. And that is exactly what they did, running to see the enigma solved.

The first to arrive were dumbfounded in front of the portraits. The portrait of the Loner had undergone the same transformation. From then on, the people had to accept the magical reality, especially after Painter went to the Town Square and Museum to investigate what had happened. He had no explanation.

So, the mystery continued.
No one in the City could imagine what had occurred. No one. Not even Priest. People believed that perhaps Champion would be able to shed some light on the subject, but that was another enigma. Where was Champion?

From the moment that he received the trophy from Commander, the old hero had disappeared from sight like water absorbed by the earth.
He left only a token to remember him by: the Loner’s Trophy — a memorial that the people would zealously care for in the prettiest spot of the City.

The Town Square — on top of the pedestal.

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WORD OF THE DAY

FUNCTION: Adjective

GLIB

Comparative and superlative forms: glibber; glibbest also more glib;
most glib

Meanings:
1 : said or done too easily or carelessly : showing little preparation or thought
e.g. Politicians need to do more than provide glib answers to difficult questions.

: lacking depth or substance
e.g. the actor's glib portrayal of a drug addict
e.g. glib generalizations

2 : speaking in a smooth, easy manner that is insincere or deceitful
e.g. glib politicians
e.g. He has a glib tongue.

Derived forms:
glibly adverb

e.g. He talks glibly of returning to school, but I know he doesn't have the discipline.

glibness noun (noncount)

e.g. the glibness of his answers>

QUOTE OF THE DAY

"Everyone in Tinseltown is getting pinched, lifted and pulled. The trade-off is that something of your soul in your face goes away." Robert Redford on plastic surgery.

LAUGHTER'S THE BEST MEDICINE

Marriage...

About 3:30 in the morning, a wife wakes up to find she is alone in the bed and she can hear her husband crying uncontrollably. She gets up and starts to look for him. He's not in the bathroom, living room, or in the kitchen. As she passes the laundry room, she hears his faint sniffles coming from the basement. She turns on the light and goes downstairs to find him. Finally, she finds him huddled in the corner, rolled up into a ball, and crying hysterically. She runs over to him and asks why he is crying.

He says...

- "Do you remember when we got married twenty years ago?"
- She looks at him and says, "yes".
- He says, "well, a couple of months before, your dad said that I could marry you or go to jail."
- She says, "I already know that. I don't see what the problem is."
- He says, " don't you see!!! I would have gotten out today!"

Teaching Tips & Ideas - Part 4

TIME ADVERBIALS WITHOUT PREPOSITIONS

1 - A preposition is not used if the time phrase is preceded by an adjective.
e.g. I saw her last Sunday.
We are gointo Chicago next month.
I'll be nineteen next November.

2 - This Morning, This afternoon, This Evening are usual:
Tonight, This night may be said but it is not in common use.
That Night can be used with referencee to the past.
I happened ten years ago on the night of October 30th. The day
had been cloudy and hazy. That night there was a violent thunderstrm
and it poured all night long.

3 - We say Last Night - but Yesterday Evening Yesterday Morning
are more often heard.

4 - Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow are also adverbs and so do not take a preposition:
e.g. She will call him Tomorrow
Mary called to see her mother Yesterday.
They promised to come for dinner Today.

THE CITY OF THE LONER - Chapter 14

TO EACH HIS OWN GLORY


The bleachers of the City’s Sports Complex were packed. City Club fans with their aqua banners had pompously been calling themselves the Crystal Legion. In spite of the seriousness of the team’s disadvantage, in the beginning of the game, the crowd was loud and wild. Later on, they were completely silent, seeming to fear that if they as much as opened their mouths, their hearts and souls would escape. Tension mounted as time passed. Nearing halftime the score still remained zero x zero. Everyone knew how dangerous it would be for City Club if the team didn’t score in the first forty-five minutes. If that happened the visiting team would change their tactics for the second half. They’d up their defenses, guarantee a tie, and take home the Loner’s Trophy. CC had to win to keep the trophy at home where it belonged, and that is why tension grew as the spectators silently watched the clock.

During the first half, the visiting team came close to scoring a goal. It was really close. Around forty minutes into the game. Thank God, Pilungo saved the day. The referee, well known for his shady calls, called a penalty against Captain during an obviously clean play. There’s no way it was a penalty, but in spite of the crowd’s yelling and booing “Robber Ref!” and in spite of CC’s protests from the players, especially their captain, Commander, the referee held his position, explaining “When I call a penalty, it is a penalty.”

Until that point, the ref had seemed impartial, letting the game flow, especially in the centerfield. Yet, as soon as the ball came close to CC’s goalpost, he showed his true colors. He clearly favored the visiting team and wanted their victory. “Whoever complains will be expelled,” he threatened fingering the red card to intimidate Captain and Commander, and then hurrying to set up the ball for the penalty shot.

The stadium was hushed in expectation as spectators crossed their fingers, and some even covered their eyes in agony. No one wanted to witness a goal against CC.

Finally the ref whistled.

Running fast, the player kicking for the penalty approached the ball and shot the ball low into the left corner, almost touching the goalpost. Agile as a cat, in an almost impossible move, Pilungo sprang into action, caught the ball, and hugged it to the ground as if he and the ball had fused and become indivisible.

The outburst from the stands was incredible with crystalline fans’ deafening roar of “P for Pilungo, P – El Paradon!” People yelled not only in praise of Pilungo’s talent, but in relief that the ref’s unfair decision was null and void.

Fantastic as it was, that outburst was not the peak of excitement. That was yet to come.

Forty-one minutes into the game, at the exact moment that the judge entered the gate to the CSC, there was an even louder explosion when I slammed in a powerful goal that nearly ripped out the back of the net. I felt the bliss of retribution in the depths of my soul. It’s too bad that the judge didn’t get to appreciate the beauty of my play. He missed it by only a few seconds.

What followed happened fast, starting with the cloud of dust his car stirred up as it came to a halt in front of the CSC’s monumental entranceway. Flushed, nervous and hurried, the judge got out of his car. In an attempt to stop him, Champion met him with a wide smile and open arms.

“Your honor, what a pleasure it is that you came to join us. Come this way to the VIP section where your seat is reserved.”

“I didn’t come to watch a soccer game. I came to capture a fugitive.”

Champion didn’t even have a chance to try to dissuade the judge, who zoomed off. Completely ignoring the revered athlete, Judge disappeared into the stadium. He had hardly set his foot in the stadium when he saw the crowd rise, cheering and applauding.

“I knew that the people of the City would support my decision,” he concluded, disoriented by the noise and believing that the applause once again was for him.

Though Judge had expected total support for my capture, the display of emotion surprised him. The crowd's enthusiasm was even greater than on the day of the inauguration of the Forum. Judge believed that this was truly love of Justice made manifest. The crowd surely knew how to show their approval of his strict discipline in executing the law. Confident in his fanatic certainty, he waved to the shouting spectators, believing that their applause was their way of showing gratitude.

In the mind of Judge, there was no room for doubt or hesitation. Sure of the population’s support, he approached Chief of Police.

“Arrest Calunga! Carry him over here on your shoulders so that he can serve as an example for others.

Though the order seemed strange, Chief of Police did exactly what he had been told. He walked onto the field, crossed it, faced me, and without a single word, lifted me onto his shoulders, and headed back from where he had come.

It was spectacular.

The spectators went crazy and doubled their applause. Who would have imagined that Chief of Police was such a passionate CC fan? Who would have imagined that an authority figure would forget all of the rules and invade the field to commemorate a goal?

As misled as Judge, Chief of Police also believed that the applause was for him, for the courage he demonstrated taking on a prison fugitive without his patrol car and without any backup. His pride swelled as he crossed the field with the prisoner on his shoulders. “From now on, no detainee in the Maximum Security Prison will attempt an escape,” he mused to himself.

In their reserved seats in the Tribune of Honor, my parents’ hearts filled with emotion as they watched the scene before them. My mother cried tears of joy, recalling the prediction the old, white-bearded man made on the night of my birth: “He will be carried on the shoulders of men to the sound of the crowd’s applause.” She looked to the heavens and thanked God for granting her this sublime moment. Nothing could have pleased her more than seeing her dear son being “carried on the shoulders of men to the sound of the crowd’s applause.”

With each step that Chief of Police took, the roar of the crystalline crowd increased. As he passed, the crowd’s delirium grew and so did Chief’s pride. Wanting to prolong his glory, he decided to carry the fugitive across the stadium again.

Naturally, my mother’s heart was about to burst. For the second time, she watched me being paraded and cheered. When we passed the Tribune of Honor, she was absolutely radiant. Her eyes were lit up and her tears shone, reflecting sunlight.

Every once in awhile, carrying my weight on his shoulders, Chief of Police lost his balance. Fatigued, he tripped varying his pace with short then long steps in one direction and then another. Here and there, he’d straighten up, trying to raise me higher for all to see.

“A lesson like this one will never be forgotten,” he reasoned. “After this, no one will ever try to escape the Maximum Security Prison again.”

The fanatic cheering was ceaseless as spectators called out my name. The bleachers trembled.

When Chief of Police finally reached the other side of the field and headed in the direction of the exit gate, the ref blew his whistle.

The first half of the game was over.

QUOTE OF THE DAY

“When I am getting ready to reason with a man, I spend one-third of my time thinking about myself and what I am going to say and two-thirds about him and what he is going to say.”
Abraham Lincoln

LAUGHTER'S THE BEST MEDICINE

DEER HUNTING BUDDIES

The guys were all at deer camp. They had to bunk two to a room. No one wanted to room with Daryl because he snored so badly. They decided it wasn't fair to make one of them stay with him the whole time, so they voted to take turns.

The first guy bunked with Daryl and comes to breakfast the next morning with his hair a mess and his eyes all bloodshot. They said, "Man, what happened to you?" He said, "Daryl snored so loudly, I just sat up and watched him all night long."

The next night it was a different guy's turn. In the morning, same thing--hair all standing up, eyes all bloodshot. They said, "Man, what happened to you? You look awful!" He said, "Man, that Daryl shakes the roof. I watched him all night long."

The third night was Frank's turn. Frank was a big burly ex-football player; a man's man. The next morning he came to breakfast bright eyed and bushy tailed. "Good morning," he said. They couldn't believe it!

They said, "Man, what happened?"

He said, "Well, we got ready for bed. I went and tucked Daryl into bed and kissed him good night. He sat up and watched me all night long."

Teaching Tips & Ideas

TIME ADVERBIALS - Part Three

FOR

For indicates duration of time. It answers the question "For How Long"
e.g. She's been studying French for more than five years.
e.g. It hasn't stopped raining for three hours.
e.g. He's been putting on weight for the past three months.

IN

In indicates:
1 - a period of time
e.g. in (the) summer, in the afternoon; in 1937; in the meantime;
in the 19th century; in the good old days.

2 - the total lenght of time taken to complete an activity
e.g. lunch will be ready in half an hour.
e.g. the cab will get you there in 15 minutes.

3 - that something will happen within a time limit
e.g. I'll be there in a couple of hours.
e.g. tidbits will be served in the intervals.
e.g. Mrs Green has gone to the bank but she'll be back in an hour.

ON

On is used for a particular day or date, or part of a day.
e.g. on Monday; on the 4th of July; on New Year'ds Day.
e.g. on the morning of 14th May

Note: on the morning of - date follows
in the morning - no date follows

THE CITY OF THE LONER - Chapter 13

DURA LEX,
SED LEX

The City became accustomed to the presence of the honorable judge. No longer was anyone startled by his impeccable demeanor, complete with silk bow ties and the gold handled cane. His scowling face was now a common sight. No longer were his aloofness and indifferent tone of voice motives for gossip. Matter of fatly, the population had accepted the judge. At home, the judge’s eccentricities were apparent in his methodic existence. He considered his routine inviolable, except in the most extreme circumstances. From the time he opened his eyes in the morning until he shut them at night, he followed a sequence of steps that had become so automatic that he could accomplish each task blindfolded.

Only on weekends did he permit slight changes. Today, for example, a festive Sunday had dismantled his schedule. Though it was against his will, he had woken up to the thundering canons and started preparing for the celebration. Conscious that his office carried with it the responsibility to participate in civic events, he viewed the day’s events as dull, but inevitable duties. In fact, as soon as he cut the CSC’s inaugural ribbons and freed Champion’s birds, he hurried home as if a more important engagement were awaiting him there.

At noon, his lunch was served. Generally, he spent an hour and a half at each meal. He needed this much time to chew his food. According to the demanding criteria he had established, rice needed to be chewed seventeen times; beans, nineteen; vegetables, fourteen; meat and fish, twenty-two; and so on. He had been using this counting system so long that the differentiated mastication had become his second nature.

A walk following lunch had also become habitual. In measured rhythmical paces, he walked approximately five hundred meters around his dining room table — two hundred and fifty clockwise and two hundred and fifty counterclockwise. The last footstep of this carefully planned stroll was always completed in less than ten minutes, after which he enjoyed a relaxing nap reclining in his lounge chair. He would snooze until precisely two forty-five, when his alarm awakened him. On Saturdays, Sundays and holidays, he would allow himself to rest until four o’clock. Afterwards, he would listen to music and news on the radio.

The news being broadcast this afternoon was festive. The City Radio network transmitting directly from the CSC, was going to cover the soccer match which would soon begin. In an especially excited voice, the broadcaster announced the City Club team’s line up:
“And now...entering the field are the City Club’s athletes. First in line is “El Paradon” Pilungo, and right behind him the brothers Captain and Central. Following them are Catuca, Centerfield, Cururu, and finally the offense, our spectacular attackers. Here they come: Caçamba, Caboré, Commander, Capote, and last, but not least the phenomenal Calunga!”

Upon hearing my name, the judge couldn’t believe his ears. He jumped out of his chair, and spoke right out loud.

“No! It can’t be! The broadcaster must be mistaken!”

He reviewed the facts in his mind. He was sure that he had condemned me to serve nine days time. He recalled the details that led to his decision: excessive violence committed against an outsider who had provoked him, violence in legitimate defense of a third party, Pilungo. He remembered that the victim had lost teeth, broken ribs and a broken nose, et cetera, et cetera. He knew that the criminal behavior had occurred last Tuesday. And if he remembered all of these details, why in the world would he forget the sentence and the fact that the prisoner should still be in jail. The judge was determined to clear up this mess and to clear it up now. He changed clothes quickly but meticulously; and since it was his chauffeur’s day off, drove himself. Within twenty minutes he arrived at the Maximum Security Prison.

“Good afternoon, Jailer.”

When he opened his sleepy eyes, the zombie’s knees began to shake. Awkwardly, he knocked the radio’s earphones out of his ears, and stuttered so badly that his words came out backwards.

“Honor your good afternoon.”

He tried to cover up his nervousness with what he thought to be a well turned phrase.

“And what fair winds have brought you here on this lovely, luminous afternoon, your honor?”

“I’ve come to inspect the prisoners,” the judge seethed.

“But, your honor, today is Sunday, the day set aside by our Creator for pleasure and rest. Your honor should be enjoying the City’s festivities or else enjoying the peaceful comfort of your own home.”

Jailer was trying to avoid the inspection, which he knew would result in his disgrace. Yet, his arguments were in vain. Fuming to the high heavens, the Judge cut him off.

“Give me the list of prisoners detained in the Maximum Security Prison.”

Caught red-handed — guilty of aiding a prisoner’s escape—Jailer stood before a raging storm. He knew that soon lightning bolts would fall upon him, but tried his best to remain calm. From his bottom desk drawer, he retrieved the list, which consisted only of my name: Calunga.

“Here it is, your honor, the complete list.”

According to official protocol, Judge ordered that the prisoners be led to the patio in single file so that he could hold an inspection.

There was no way out for Jailer. The judge had cornered him. Checkmate.

“Your honor, I swear by everything that is holy,” he said as he made the sign of the cross, “that I only permitted the incarcerated’s translocation out of love for the City. You must be aware that Calunga is the City Club’s best player, and that if he couldn’t play in this afternoon’s competition, with all certainty, the Loner’s Trophy would go to those neighboring low down,
conniving rivals. But I guarantee you that as soon as the match is over, Calunga will return to the Maximum Security Prison to pay the rest of the sentence, imposed upon him so wisely by your honor.

Jailer’s tearful confession and justification did no good at all, for according to the judge, “The law must be observed by all, even when the costs are high.”

“I also love the City,” the judge spoke in a voice as harsh as his sentence. “But you know that the Law must be above all personal interests. You also know that it is a crime to assist prisoners in an escape, and for this crime, put yourself in a cell and stay there until Tuesday.

Jailer knew that it would do no good to argue once the sentence was declared. And came it did in that thundering voice, “Stay in jail until Tuesday.”

It was Jailer’s duty to execute the law. It was Jailer’s only option to respect the judge’s authority.

Humbly, he stepped into a cell. Using the chain, bolt and key, he locked the barred door, thus complying with the Law. Suddenly a fleeting thought passed through his mind. He remembered that before the judge’s arrival he had been dreaming a confused dream in which a vehicle traveled simultaneously in two directions. Perhaps his current situation had something to do with that dream. But he didn’t want to think about it; he preferred to listen to the City Club’s opening game.

For Judge, Jailer’s crime was now a thing of the past. What was important now was to capture me and take me back to prison. He had to be fast or else the game would end and I would turn myself in. I had promised Jailer and would keep my word. Judge knew that.

He rushed out to look for Chief of Police, who would have to be involved. Even though he feared interrupting Chief's rest on a Sunday afternoon, he went straight to his home. Judge didn’t have to knock at the door, however, because as soon as his car approached, someone came out announcing, “Your honor, Chief of Police's not here. He went to see the game.”

Chief of Police at the CSC! What great news. Judge was nervous because time was short, but now he’d have a chance to serve Justice. He’d have everything he needed right at the game: the police, and me, the fugitive.

Better yet, at the game he’d be surroundedm by admirers, the same crowd that had cheered him at the inauguration of the Forum. He was confident that the population would back up his decision to uphold the Law.

What more could he ask for?

Anxious to gain time, he floored the accelerator.

The Law was on his side.

LAUGHTER'S THE BEST MEDICINE

THE THERAPIST

A husband and wife came for counseling after 15 years of marriage. When asked what the problem was, the wife went into a passionate, painful tirade listing every problem they had ever had. She went on and on, neglect, lack of intimacy, emptiness, loneliness, feeling unloved and unlovable, an entire laundry list of unmet needs she had endured over the course of their marriage.

Finally, after allowing this to continue for a length of time, the therapist got up, walked around the desk, asked the wife to stand, and embraced and kissed her passionately.

The woman quietly sat down as though in a daze. The therapist turned to the husband and said, "This is what your wife needs at least three times a week. Can you do this?"

The husband thought for a moment and replied, "Well, I can drop her off here on Mondays and Wednesdays, but on Fridays, I go fishing."

WORD OF THE DAY

Function: noun (count)

IOU

Plural: IOUs

Status: informal

Meaning:
A written promise to pay a debt.
e.g. I don't have any cash with me now, so I'll have to give you an IOU for my share.

Note: IOU is often used figuratively.
e.g. The governor has acquired some political IOUs over the years.


Originally IOU = "I owe you."

Teaching Tips & Ideas

TIME ADVERBIALS - Part 2

BY

By is used in time phrases to indicate a final time by which something is or was to be completed.
e.g. A response must be received by ten o'clock this Sunday.
e.g. He'll have the work completed by the end of July.

Note: BY DAY - BY NIGHT
e.g. She prefers traveling by night.

BY THE NIGHT:
e.g. Some people get paid by the day.
(daily pay: contrast a fixed weekly or monthly wage)

DURING/IN:

DURING and IN express continuity over a period of time.
e.g. DURING/IN the Festival people danced and sung.
e.g. DURING/IN WWII almost everything was rationed.

DURING and IN can also express a point of time in a continuous period.
e.g. We were awakened DURING/IN THE NIGHT by a loud noise.

QUOTE OF THE DAY

"If I had eight hours to chop down a tree, I'd spend six sharpening my axe."
Abraham Lincoln