The Man Who Shouted Teresa
I stepped off the pavement, walked backwards a few paces looking up, and,
from the middle of the street, brought my hands to my mouth to make a megaphone,
and shouted toward the top stories of the block: "Teresa!"
My shadow took fright at the moon
and huddled at my feet.
Someone walked by. Again I shouted:
"Teresa!" The man came up to me and said: "If you do not shout louder she
will not hear you. Let's both try. So: count to three, on three we shout
together." And he said: "One, two, three." And we both yelled, "Tereeeesaaa!"
A small group of friends passing
by on their way back from the theater or the café saw us calling
out. They said: "Come on, we will give you a shout too." And they joined
us in the middle of the street and the first man said one to three and
then everybody together shouted, "Te-reee-saaa!"
Somebody else came by and joined
us; a quarter of an hour later there were a whole bunch of us, twenty almost.
And every now and then somebody new came along.
Organizing ourselves to give a good
shout, all at the same time, was not easy. There was always someone who
began before three or who went on too long, but in the end we were managing
something fairly efficient. We agreed that the "Te" should be shouted low
and long, the "re" high and long, the "sa" low and short. It sounded fine.
Just a squabble every now and then when someone was off.
We were beginning to get it right
when somebody, who, if his voice was anything to go by, must have had a
very freckled face, asked: "But are you sure she is home?"
"No," I said.
"That is bad," another said. "Forgotten
your key, have you?"
"Actually," I said, "I have my
key."
"So," they asked, "why dont you
go on up?"
"I don't live here," I answered.
"I live on the other side of town."
"Well, then, excuse my curiosity,"
the one with the freckled voice asked, "but who lives here?"
"I really wouldn't know," I said.
People were a bit upset about
this.
"So, could you please explain,"
somebody with a very toothy voice asked, "why you are down here calling
out Teresa."
"As far as I am concerned," I
said, "we can call out another name, or try somewhere else if you like."
The others were a bit annoyed.
"I hope you were not playing a
trick on us," the frecled one asked suspiciously.
"What," I said, resentfully, and
I turned to ther others for confirmation of my good faith. The others said
nothing.
There was a moment of embarrassment.
"Look," someone said good-naturedly,
"why don't we call Teresa one more time, then we go home."
So we did it one more time. "One
two three Teresa!" but it did not come out very well. Then people headed
off for home, some one way, some another.
I had already turned into the
square when I thought I heard a voice still calling: "Tee-reee-sa!"
Someone must have stayed on to
shout. Someone stubborn.