Gas Station

Maria Luiza de Oliveira

Alexandro Lino da Costa

Everyday Ivan wakes up at 5 AM. He has to be in the gas station at 6 AM. He does not even have breakfast, only has time to take a shower, to drink some coffee, and then gets out by bicycle. He goes down the street taking care of the holes and little stones, and smelling the shit smell while passes over the bridge, and then goes up the street to finally get the road. Like always, it is early in the morning and there is no traffic. He can ride barely free. And that's the best part of the day. The air still seeming clean, the silence with a rare sound of a car running fast, the faint sun touching his skin, he doesn't feel cold, but he doesn't feel hot, either. It's the perfect sensation. And then, when he finally feels the total pleasure, when all his body is relaxed, he gets there.

The gas station is not old, it's not new, but needs some repairs. His salary is not so good, but the owner is a good man, and leaves coffee with some cookies in a kind of kitchen, sometimes there's even bread.
He arrives ten minutes before his due time, says "hello" to his fellows, drinks some coffee, puts on his uniform, and goes take his place five minutes before his time. And then, Alvin arrives five minutes before his time, says "hello" to the same fellows, drinks the same coffee, wears his similar uniform and goes take his place exactly at his time. The work begins.
The place is just ginormous. Alvin is a blue man. Since they first met two years ago, Alvin has been really sad. Ivan always tries to ask him the reason of his sadness, but Alvin never answers. Ivan has even asked other people about it, and everybody who knows Alvin says "he was born gloomy". Nobody knows why. Maybe it's his nature. The more Ivan tries to cheer Alvin up, the more he just cannot do it.
While Ivan manipulates the controls to the passage of the gas, he suddenly starts to think of his dearest people. He sees his gentle father, his sweet mother, his annoying two older sisters, his annoying two younger brothers, his three needy dogs, his egocentric orange cat, his so beautiful and hot girlfriend, some dear classmates. Damn. He so did not want to be there.
What a fool regard! He told me all this. He didn't want to be there. I could read his thoughts. And I wanted to die and to take anyone with me. I knew exactly what to do. I'm not blue. I'm bad. Essentially. I took my matchbox from my pocket (I used to smoke), and just fired one. Everything exploded. I do like fire. It was funny. I hadn't known this word before. Funny. And I laughed. The only time in all my life. I laughed while I was burning, and burning, and burning. It hurt a lot, but I did not care; after all, I was dying. I don't know about him anymore. Maybe he is in heaven or in hell. But I stand here. Strong. He was a simple victim. I just wanted to laught and to kill somebody. To feel powerful like a deity, and the fire really helped me. I always laugh when I remember the explosion. I'm not a killer: I'm just a person who had an unusual kind of happiness. You realized I am Alvin's spirit, didn't you? Yes. And I will live in this dark and burnt piece of land forever. I'd like to see someone try to build anything there. I'll be there when you want to see me. I mean, to feel me. Yes. This place is mine and was cursed by myself. Amen.