o neno do pixama a raias

Over the course of the next few weeks Mother seemed increasingly unhappy with life at Out-With and Bruno understood perfectly well why that might be. After all, when they’d first arrived he had hated it, due to the fact that it was nothing like home and lacked such things as three best friends for life. But that had changed for him over time, mostly due to Shmuel, who had become more important to him than Karl or Daniel or Martin had ever been. But Mother didn’t have a Shmuel of her own. There was no one for her to talk to, and the only person who she had been remotely friendly with –the young Lieutenant Kotler– had been transferred somewhere else.

Although he tried not to be one of those boys who spends his time listening at keyholes and down chimneys, Bruno was passing by Father’s office one afternoon while Mother and Father were inside having one of their conversations. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but they were talking quite loudly and he couldn’t help nut overhear.

“It’s horrible” Mother was saying. “Just horrible. I can’t stand it any more”

“We don’t have any choice” said Father. “This  is our assignment and…”

“No, this is your assignment” said Mother. “Your assignment, not ours. You stay if you want to.”

“And what will people think” asked Father, “if I permit you and the children to return to Berlin without me? They will ask questions about my commitment to the work here”

“Work?” shouted Mother. “You call this work?”

Bruno didn’t hear much more because the voices were getting closer to the door and there was always a chance that Mother would come storming out in search of a medicinal sherry, so he ran back upstairs instead. Still, he had heard enough to know that there was a chance they  might be returning to Berlin, and to his surprise he didn’t know how to feel about that.
There was one part of him that remembered that he had loved his own life back there, but so many things would have changed by now. Karl and the other two best friends whose names he couldn’t remember would probably have forgotten about him by now. Grandmother was dead and they almost never heard from Grandfather, who Father said had gone senile.

But on the other hand he’d grown used to life at Out-With: he didn’t mind Herr Liszt, he’d become much friendlier with Maria than he ever had been back in Berlin, Gretel was still going through a phase and keeping out of his way (and she didn’t seem to be quite so much of a Hopeless Case any more) and his afternoon conversations with Shmuel filled him with happiness.
Bruno didn’t know  how to feel and decided that whatever happened, he would accept the decision without complaint.

The Boy in the Stripped Pyjamas

John Boyne

publicada orixinalmente por David Fickling Books en Irlanda, 2006; con ilustracións de Alisia Cullens

traducida ao galego por Daniel Saavedra

e publicada como

O neno do pixama a raias

Vigo, Editorial Faktoria K de libros, 2007

Ao longo das seguintes semanas, Madre parecía que estaba cada vez menos contenta coa vida en Ouvichs e Bruno podía entender perfectamente o motivo. Cando chegaran, Bruno odiaba o lugar poque non había nada como estar na casa e ter tres mellores amigos para toda a vida. Mais iso mudou co tempo, principalmente grazas a Shmuel, quen se convertera en alguén moito máis importante que os mesmos Karl, Daniel e Martin. Madre, porén, non tiña o seu propio Shmuel. Non tiña ninguén con quen falar e a única persoa coa que parecía levarse ben (o Tenente Kotler) fora trasladado a outro sitio.
Aínda que Bruno procuraba non ser un deses rapaces que pasa o tempo escoitando polo buraco do pecho das portas nin polas chemineas, un día que pasaba por diante da oficina de Padre escoitou a Padre e Madre ter unha das súas conversas ás agochadas, mais estaban a falar tan alto que non foi quen de non escoitar.

-É horribel –dicía Madre-. Horríbel. Xa non aguanto máis.

- Non temos outra opción – dixo Padre-. É a nosa misión e…

- Non, é a “túa” misión- dixo Madre-. A “túa” misión, non a nosa. Fica ti se queres.

- E que vai pensar a xente se permito que ti e os rapaces volvades a Berlín sen min? –preguntou Padre-. Eles vanme facer preguntas sobre a miña entrega no traballo que fago aquí.

- Traballo? –berrou Madre-. Chámaslle a isto traballo?

Bruno non oíu moito máis, xa que as voces íanse achegando á porta, e sempre había a posibilidade de que Madre saíse como un lóstrego para tomar un pouco do seu xerez medicinal, así que volveu para arriba. Aínda así, Bruno oíra abondo como para saber que existía unha posibilidade de regresar a Berlín e, para a súa sorpresa, non sabía o que pensar.

Unha parte del lembraba que lle encantaba a súa antiga vida en Berlín, mais sabía que habería moitas cousas que xa terían mudado. Posiblemente Karl e os outros dous amigos dos que non lembraba os nomes xa se terían esquecido del por completo. A Avoa morrera e case non sabían nada do Avó quen, segundo Padre, se volvera senil.

Por outra parte, Bruno acostumárase a vivir en Ouvichs. Xa non lle facía caso a herr Liszt, volvérase moito máis amigo de Maria do que era en Berlín, Gretel seguía a pasar por unha fase polo que se apartaba del (e xa non parecía ser un caso perdido) e as súas tardes de conversa con Shmuel enchíano de alegría.