Racan and Alaor - Scot Bik

Racan was a young student on the eve of a college entrance examination. He belonged to a family of upper middle class and lived in an elegant neighborhood of the big city. He frequented the best environments of society always accompanied by friendships at the same socioeconomic level. He was a tall boy, burly with sports. At school, he was always the last in line because of his unusual height.

Once he came home drunk with burning fire on his skin, he entered his room, lonely, thirsting to satisfy his needs. At the age of only nineteen, he felt the potent voluptuousness that at that moment commanded him. With no choice, he remembered the maid who slept in the back room. Janete was a very humble girl whose family lived in the slums; she helped her elderly and sick mother with her basic maid salary. She was light-tongued, with semi-curly hair, black eyes, and a mannequin body. Racan neither knocked nor called. He opened the door slowly and went in; took off his clothes slowly and sat down beside the girl who had not yet noticed his presence. She slept soundly. He started to straighten her legs and went up until she woke up. Before she gave a shout, Racan said:

--- Calm! It's me! Racan!

--- What do you want here? --- She asked astonished. She had not yet noticed that he was naked in the gloom.

--- I just wanted company. I'm very alone.

He continued smoothing the girl who was feeling uncomfortable.

--- If you do not leave I'll scream! --- She threatened.

--- If you scream I'm going to tell my parents that you hit me up and I did not want to. They will send you away.

Janete felt the poach fly of the bandit's horse, an object of contemptible value, horrible, she was crying inside but not sounding, except the tears that fell on the pillow. It lasted only a few minutes but for her it was an eternity.

It was not just that time: Racan liked the ease of having pleasure at home and it was his nighttime habit to visit the maid's room at night. But he did not threaten her anymore. In fact, he was a gentle and polite person. In the meetings that followed, he was even affectionate with her. After a few times, he started kissing her on the mouth as they made love. Over time, she was feeling comfortable with him and eventually fell in love. They then met with each other and they both had pleasure. Then, one fine day, after finishing another session, she said smilingly.

--- I'm Pregnant!

Janete was expecting a reaction of joy from the baby's father; I thought that was great news.

--- What?! Are you crazy?! How did you let that happen? --- He shouted in terror. He rarely got so angry or screamed.

He thought it was absurd. That child would spoil his plans to have a marriage to a girl of his sociocultural level. Marrying a slum girl has never really been in his plans.

Janete, naively, thought that with the pregnancy he would marry her and assume paternity. She wanted to persuade him, but his position was strictly irreducible. He wanted her to interrupt as soon as possible. After a few minutes of fury and bitter words, Racan left the room. Janete fell on the bed and burst into tears with deep anguish. It was not worth anything. She was just a sex toy to give a little carnal pleasure to a rich man. For a while, she thought his caresses and kisses showed that he did not care about the social difference between the two, so he would take the child and marry her, illusion, ingenuity, when the token fell to her that she really did not have and never had the slightest chance of it happening and had been used all that time, her love for him immediately reversed into hatred in the same proportion.

The next day, late in the day, Racan's father went to Janete's room.

--- Can I talk to you? --- He asked from outside. Janete was already lying in her nightgown, but the light was still on.

--- Just a minute! --- She said, putting on a dress. Then she opened the door and said: ---Come in.

The old man came in and threw an envelope on the bed.

--- There you have enough to look for a good clinic to do the procedure safely. After that you should never see my son again. So we will no longer want your services in this house. There you have your salary of the month with all rights. --- He was coming out when he stood in the doorway and said, still on his back: --- Just one more thing: do not talk about it to anyone for your own good.

Janete panicked. He was only 18 years old. His family was almost starving. His mother was old and of weak health; she had no father. Her siblings were either traffickers or arrested. She lived in a slum bar of the city. She had gotten the job with great luck since she had no references.

She accepted all the money and left that house disillusioned but strengthened by the lesson she had learned, she decided not to do the abortion. She decided that she would have his son and that he would face the bar to raise him as best he could. She could not get a steady job, mainly because she was pregnant. She ate the bread that the devil kneaded but did what she could support her son. She washed clothes out, did a manicure and pedicure, did a lot of cleaning, took care of children, etc.

A year after getting rid of Janete, Racan married a beautiful family girl as noble as his (if that's nobility). Isadora, his wife, was very sweet, kind, always trying to please. There was no one who did not like her. Racan passed the college entrance exam. His life was going wonderfully well.

After a month married, Isadora became pregnant but lost the baby with four months of gestation. A few more months passed and she lost another baby within weeks. The third time, she was unable to hold the pregnancy again and lost her child less than two months pregnant. After several tests, she found she could not handle a pregnancy until the end, some very sad news for such a young girl.

After the last abortion, already conformed of not being able to have children, they decided to adopt a child. They went to the orphanage to choose. There were many children, but they had previously agreed that they would adopt a boy. They stood in the courtyard of the orphanage watching the boys play. The elders played ball and the children played on the floor with a few toys in the corner. Racan was strongly attracted to a boy about three years of age: pale skin, ringed brown hair, humble expression. Expression this that caught his attention and Racan chose him immediately. They took care of all the documentation and in one month the boy was already leaving with them from the orphanage. He was not at all surprised to be carried into Racan's arms. Inside the car, Isadora picked him up for Racan to drive. He was also very receptive to her. The boy soon conquered the affection of the parents and their lives followed happy and calm. They named him Alaor.

Time passed and the boy grew. His behavior with Racan was changing and he developed aversion to the foster parent. They could not look at each other as they exchanged harsh words. It was enough to be in the same environment they were discussing. There was not the slightest tune. Everyone noticed that such attitude was only with Racan who increasingly went to avoid his son and was no longer addressed to him. Over time, he was increasingly choosing to stick his face at work even more to avoid being at home near his son. By now, he had been a neurologist and had worked in several hospitals. I got home late every day. Isadora was very sad to live in a war like this. In her plans, it was a harmonious family life she longed for. Racan, for his part, did not understand why this was happening. He treated his son with care and attention. He gave her toys, always bought gifts he even played with the boy. But the whole hostility came from the son. It was him who had started with his father's repulsion and made a point of making that clear without restraint. Racan often wanted to vent his outrage by physically assaulting the boy but managed to restrain himself.

Once, very sad and anguished after hearing several hostile words from his son, he knelt at the foot of his bed and spoke to God:

--- My Lord! What did I do to deserve this? --- Crying --- I even chose this child to give love and affection, now I have an enemy in the house? Am I paying for something I did? Or should I get rid of him? But his mother loves him very much. I have to think about her too.

The fighting continued and life went by following its inertia. Alaor was already 18 years old and was facing his father on an equal basis. Most of the time, Racan ignored him, tried to deactivate his ears for the things his son said.

After many years only working, Racan decided to do another specialization. He wanted to study oncology. During the course, they always needed models to be analyzed in exams for the studies. Several colleagues offered as models for tests such as PSA, BTA, CEA, Calcitonin, among others. One day, it was Racan's turn. He decided to apply for aspiration of the bone marrow for biopsy. During the biopsy, they found that he had leukemia. It was a shock for everyone. Racan's health, until then, was perfect. No one could imagine such a disease in a man like him at that age. Racan left the course in tatters. He had never had even taken one aspirin. The meaning of illness, which for him had never gone beyond the visual in his patients, was now real and was in his body. It's a really scary disease.

Arriving home, he hugged Isadora crying with the result of the examination in his hands. She was terrified, not understanding. After he explained everything that had happened, she panicked. She loved her husband and wanted to fight for him anyway. They then, began a hunt for compliant donors. All the relatives were checked and nothing to find anyone compatible for transplantation. Isadora was getting desperate.

Time passed and Racan grew weaker. Soon, it was his time to stay home alone. He could not work anymore. A little more and he was in bed all the time until the disease worsened abruptly and he was hospitalized in a coma. It stayed like this for more than two weeks.

Isadora never gave up looking for a donor. Even to completely strange people she started to ask. Even the doorman in the building he lived in did compatibility analysis.

After five weeks, Racan woke up from the coma. He was already much better. He opened his eyes and, without moving his head, looked from one side to the other, finding it all very strange. He knew that his illness was almost fatal so he hoped he was dead at the time, so he was not quite sure what had happened and where he was. After two minutes of analysis, he decided to ask Isadora, who was sitting in a chair by the bed, what had happened. She had not yet seen that he was awake. She was very happy to see him awake. She hugged him and then answered sweetly with a broad smile on her face.

--- We were able to find a compatible donor. You'll be fine soon!

--- How did you find it? I do not even have a father...

--- But we found. --- She interrupted. --- Do you want me to call you here? --- She asked.

--- Yes! I want! --- He answered quickly.

Isadora went to the door and opened it. Then he signaled to call a person who entered shortly. It was Alaor. When Racan saw him, his eyes widened.

--- But... how can he be compatible. It was adopted! --- Racan exclaimed in confusion.

Isadora looked at Alaor smiling and then turned to Racan and began to explain calmly,

--- When he was still a very small child, his mother was unable to support him and, to keep him from starving; she gave him to an orphanage for adoption. That's where we found him. His mother loved him very much but had no other choice since her father did not want to help her. Her name was Janete. Alaor is your biological son!

Alaor can then understand why he disliked the father. He remembered the suffering he had caused him during all those years of hostility. Also what he saw the father go through with the illness that consumed him day after day leaving him with a thread of life, made him feel that the father had paid for having rejected him.

--- Dad! --- Alaor said approaching the bed. He was about 4 years old when he called Racan father for the last time.

Two tears quickly slid from Racan's eyes.

--- I … --- Alaor continued --- I have not been nice to you during these years.

--- You do not have to say anything. It's Ok! Racan interrupted. ---- We do a lot of bullshit when we're young. I wish I could go back in time and do differently. But you cannot!

--- I do not know if what I did was right. But I'm glad I helped you with the transplant.

--- What matters is that I've learned a lot from all that I've been through. What about your mother? Where is she? I want to help you in some way to mitigate my mistake with her.

---- I have no idea. In the orphanage they must know her last address.

--- Can you hug your dad? --- Racan asked in tears.

The end