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Sunday Story/Gift...

2024-10-13 20:45:00, Kulturë Agim Xhafka
Sunday Story/Gift...
Dawn Xhafka

It was a warm June evening. From those when you can feel the smell of linden from far away under the balcony and the ride to "Republika" boulevard had reached its peak. Thousands of men, women, young people, children came down from the "Morava" cinema and after taking a spin at "Lëdina e Lotëve" they started walking uphill again. Daily, annual, old traditions since before I was born.

I had finished the eighth grade that day. We had a party at home from which I also received a letter of praise. In such cases, the father returned a glass of brandy and quickly became unhappy that he had not trained in the sport of alcohol. In joy he said to me:

- You grew up my son, you became my man!

I got excited and wasted. I felt so grown up that I asked him:

-Then put me to work this summer.

Without thinking at all, he answered me:

- Definitely.

But I couldn't be happy because my brother intervened:

- Me too.

When he finished talking, we all laughed. He was a year younger, but he was half my size. The year after that, when we went as students, we were both tied. The father did not answer. I thought, disqualified his request. I grabbed my brother by the cheeks and promised to buy him a ball when I got my salary. The brother was a born footballer. He had a technique to make all the ball masters blink. He played as an attacker with the local team and scored goals as often as pancakes. One by one, he used both legs, although he was left-handed. I liked volleyball. But I didn't have friends in this sport, so I played more with the palace girls. The brother was carrying a 50-lek ball in his bag. He was called big then, but how big was understood by his black school bag. I had a 500-lek red ball. I couldn't put it in my bag, it wouldn't darken. Amma was very sick, she became a porridge at night, let herself go, curled up like uncle Andoni. It didn't play like that with him sharing the sun. After half an hour it was as hard as a dog's bone, Calja said. That I remembered my friend. Calja had a pair of sneakers that my brother and I were staring at. Our mouths were watering. White, with black rubber and white laces.

- I don't want them white, I want them blue because I shoot the ball and they get dirty, - my brother said.

At that moment his face took on an almost alivan look. I used to see him playing barefoot and my heart ached. I told my mother to buy him a pair, but without her telling me, I realized that my brother's foot would continue to throw the ball barefoot.

After two days, my father brought me the news:

- You will work in reclamation. Start on Monday.

The mother started the noise:

- I don't leave the boy between the waters and the swamps.

- You will also go to work, - he said to his brother. - Do you know Ilmoz's apples? There you will be a guard in the morning.

Cheers until Monday. When I went to work, they gave me boots and I was inside a canal. Shoveling mud. After a few minutes, I got tired, got out of breath and rested a bit. I started again. I was drenched in sweat. I asked about the time. Only ten minutes had passed since the start of work. So work-rest I reached four o'clock in the afternoon. Home seemed to be slipping away from me. I walked and she ran away from me. Ready to sleep on the street. When I finally arrived, I sat down at the kitchen counter and snorted like a pig until dinner, the brother said. The fresh, smiling one.

- I sat under the apples and learned English, - he envied me.

So for a few days until my hands became calloused and the muscles strengthened. Time started running and...the salary came. George brought it. I signed. I only received a lek for one week of work, the next salary I would receive in full. I had never seen so much money even in my dreams. The heart was pounding like horses on cobblestones. Straight to the shoe store. I wanted to buy sneakers for my brother. I knew how much they cost. I used to buy my brother's sneakers and a package of hot dogs for my grandmother. I would buy a beer for my father and a lipstick for my mother in two weeks. When the treasurer Jorgji met me again. I knew my brother's foot number by heart, 36 for him and 39 for me. As I was getting closer, I saw that my brother came out of the store. And he got his salary that same day. I saw him smiling, with two white sneakers thrown over his shoulder. I couldn't catch him, he ran away. He flew and I read happiness on his face.

- No, I bought them, - I said sadly. - But why white ones, why? You loved blue. You heard me. He did well.- that's what I was talking about and quickly entered the store.

I'm buying for myself, I said.

- Do you have sneakers number 39, white? - I asked the seller.

- I was not assigned the number 39 today. Nor the color white, - she said.

- How so?

- Yes, the guy who just came out now got a pair of sneakers no. 39 and wanted them white. I took out some colors, he was staring. White, definitely white, he told me. And you too. I love no. 39 and loves them white.

I stopped, I asked him again, I understood. I got clear. My brother bought sneakers not for himself, but for me! I missed it, it was a little. I took a deep breath from the ones that lift the chest heavy and open the faucet of tears.

- I'm sorry, - I said to the saleswoman. - I got confused, I want sneakers, but no. 39. I love no. 36 and blue in color. I'm sorry.

I took them, threw them on my back like my brother, and on the way home I didn't feel like I had sneakers on my shoulder, but like I was carrying my brother when I picked him up from the garden every afternoon and ran at a gallop. That he would laugh out loud and be happy according to the dance of my steps. With every step I took, I was sobbing with his joy at that time. As today's surprise made me happy. That the name was a gift filled with brotherhood. The sneakers moved on their backs as if asking for permission to jump to the ground. A few, a few o congratulations, I talked to them and almost started running. No, no, I was flying home…





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