Hugo Hauser, Inc.

Photo by Paulo Medeiros
(www.olhares.com/paulomed)

When I arrived at the agency, I went straight to my boss’s office, going so fast that I made several pieces of paper fly out of Grace’s desk. She grabbed the sheets as she could, completely taken by surprise. I found my boss sat at his desk.

- Hello, Paul. – I greeted him, coldly.

He looked at me, leaning back at his chair with an amused expression in his face.
- Emma! So, did you find the House of Lumiar?
- Umhum! – then I added with an ironic tone – I also found the old man.

He pretended not to follow:
- What old man?
I put my hands on the desk and said, firmly:
- The all burned up old man, who lives there. Only, he doesn’t live.

He couldn’t hold himself any longer and bursted into a laughter, beating the desk as hard as he was laughing, like crazy. Outside his office, everyone else started laughing as well.

- It’s not funny, Paul. Joan fainted with the scare.
He laughed even more:
- Emma, we do that to every beginner. The House of Lumiar is like a test, you know? Whomever walks out of there on his own feet…
And he bursted again into a laughter, beating the desk. I just stood there, looking astonishingly at him.
- Don’t be so mad, Emma! It was just a joke!
I crossed my arms, angry:
- Joan is in the hospital.

He finally stopped laughing and looked at me open mouthed, stupefied. Outside, silence fell like a rock.

- In the hospital?! – he shouted.
- Yes, in the hospital. I had to call the ambulance. When she fainted, her head hit the floor so hard that I’ll be really surprised if they don’t find her a head trauma.

He couldn’t say a word. I prepared myself to leave the office.

- Where are you going? – he mumbled.
- To the House of Lumiar.
He jumped out of the chair, like he got an electric shock:
- What?! No!

I faced him, surprised.
- You don‘t have to!  – he continued, walking around the desk – I’ll give you another house!
- I don‘t want another house. I want this one.
- This house have been for sale for years! No one can sell it, Emma!
- I want to go there anyway.

He stared at me, dumbfounded:
- But why?! I mean…
- Is the house for sale or not? – I asked.
- Yes.
- And who is to sell it, Hugo Hauser, right?
- Right. – he answered, carefully.
- And to whom did you assign the sale of this house?
He looked ever more suspiciously at me:
- You.

I smiled at him:
- That‘s right.

And I left the office, gladly observing the stunned look of all my colleagues as I walked by them towards the exit.