A New Attempt

Five Years Later

Othon Arraes

I gaze out the window of my new house, lost in thought. I reflect on the twists and turns, or rather, the absence of them in the last six years of my life. A sense of stagnation seems to have set in, as if time had decided to freeze just as Karen, that name echoing in my mind, vanished without a trace.

Accepting the position of director at Curitiba's largest hospital was, in a way, a desperate attempt to introduce some significant change into my existence. I feel tired, not only physically, but also from this relentless search for the mysterious woman who has become the protagonist of my most vivid memories.

That night in Fernando de Noronha was a turning point. The feeling of having nothing more than a name to pursue is suffocating. Every corner of Curitiba seems to carry the expectation of finding her. But how do you search for someone when all you have is an intense memory and a name tossed to the wind? I sigh deeply, aware that the answers I seek are not beyond those lush trees standing out against the clear sky.

Bart approaches, wagging his tail with joy, and I can't help but smile at him. I stroke the soft fur of my large Labrador Retriever, pondering the reasons that led me to bring him into my life. He was undoubtedly an extension of my passionate daydreams about Karen, the woman who turned one night into an eternal mystery.

In one of those romantic reveries, I imagined how perfect it would be to build a family with her, and of course, our children. Unfortunately, that dream faded with each passing day. Karen remained an enigma. 

"So, Bart? How about a walk?" I joke with him, noticing the excitement in his canine eyes.

Without waiting for a response, I grab a running shirt and my sneakers. The desire to explore the neighborhood envelops me, a way to dissipate the thoughts that persist in tormenting me. As I tie my shoelaces, I feel Bart's contagious energy beside me, ready for our little adventure through the new neighborhood. 

I open the door, and the cool night air greets me. Bart shoots out, and I follow, feeling a strange anticipation. As we walk through the quiet streets, I realize that even as the dream of a family with Karen drifts away, Bart's faithful companionship makes this journey a little more bearable.

As I stroll through the peaceful streets with Bart, I notice that the neighborhood is surprisingly lively, even on the brink of dinnertime. Children play cheerfully in front of their houses, and the flow of cars is almost nonexistent. An involuntary smile forms on my face as I realize that the realtor's choice is spot-on; I find exactly what I am looking for a pleasant and safe place for a future family.

It's true, at the moment, my life doesn't fit into the typical family model. Not yet. But I haven't lost hope of finding Karen. And when that reunion finally happens, we'll have this charming place to call home.

Bart runs ahead enthusiastically, and I soak in the welcoming atmosphere of the neighborhood. Optimism grows in my chest, and the idea of a future with Karen and, perhaps, with our children, seems closer than ever.

Suddenly, Bart approaches a small boy who is playing peacefully with his bike. His tail wags eagerly, eager to join in the fun. I observe the scene with curiosity, noting that the little boy, frail and seemingly about six years old, is under the watchful eye of an older lady, who regards Bart with suspicion.

Bart, full of energy and enthusiasm, tries to get the boy's attention, running around him and barking softly. The boy initially surprised, soon becomes enchanted by Bart's playful nature and starts laughing, pedaling alongside the Labrador Retriever.

The lady, however, maintains her suspicious expression. I approach, smiling to reassure her.

"Hello! Sorry for any inconvenience. This is Bart, my loyal companion. It seems he's found a new friend here!"

The woman relaxes a bit at the explanation but continues to watch us cautiously. As the little boy and Bart continue to play, I notice that her initial mistrust gradually turns into a faint smile. Perhaps, in this pleasant and safe place, this is just the beginning of new friendships, even for Bart and me.

The woman, watching us with curiosity, decides to break the ice.

"You're new around here, aren't you? I've never seen you walking a dog before. Should I assume you recently adopted this big fella?"

Chuckling, I appreciate her sense of humor.

"Bart and I are a relatively new duo in this walking business around here."

The lady smiles, and I realize how friendly she seems to be. Realizing my oversight, I hasten to introduce myself.

"Sorry for not introducing myself earlier. I'm Othon, just moved into house 210. It's a pleasure to meet you."

She accepts my outstretched hand warmly.

"Margareth, I live in 220. Welcome to the neighborhood, Othon Arraes."

Before she can finish her greeting, the little boy, who had been playing nearby, seems to notice the interaction between us and approaches. Extending his hand, he smiles innocently.

"Hi, I'm Otávio! Margareth is my grandma."

Otávio's spontaneous gesture of introduction and his smile are contagious, and I'm completely charmed by the little boy's confidence. I repeat my introduction, this time directed at him.

"Pleasure, Otávio. I'm Othon. And what an amazing bike you have there!"

Otávio, visibly excited, enthusiastically tells me that he's out for a bike ride while waiting for his mom to return from work. A warm smile forms on my face, but I feel no spark of interest in learning more about Otávio's mother.

"That's cool, Otávio! Enjoy your ride. Bart and I will continue our walk. Maybe we'll meet again around here?"

As if sensing my need to move on, Bart, with his typical canine astuteness, tries to get my attention. I smile at Otávio and his grandmother, Margareth, before bidding farewell.

"See you later, Otávio! Goodbye, Margareth!"

We resume our walk, Bart by my side, and I feel a tranquil relief. As we move away, I allow myself to reflect on the pleasant surprise of meeting Margareth and Otávio. Amidst the shadows of my musings about Karen, these unexpected encounters in the neighborhood begin to fill my heart with a sense of warmth and belonging.