They got to exchange a few words when they heard a detonation that could have fractured his ear drum, after which he was splattered with the blood and flesh remaining from his old helpmate. Then Relu realized that Sandu had in his pocket dynamite and that a battery made the priming contact. Those actions from a pleasant talk to a war detonation, the splatter with his friend and helpmate blood had terrified him deeply. For many months he didn’t talk to anyone. He was walking all by himself and I was very afraid that he might revenge his friend in the same way.
He probably didn’t do this because he was pursued by the Security for a long time with the questions: “Where did Sandu get the explosive?” “Who gave it to him?” “If he didn’t want …?” other questions that they put in there you can imagine, what an “attendance oasis” the Security is.
You see, since then any discussion from father to son, form man to man, helpmate to helpmate haven been between us and his suffering was spreading to us in abundance.
In that moment we got at the gate and entered the yard. People along with the priest were already in there and they were sitting at the table. They set too. He priest told the prayer; meanwhile Relu got close to Buia and told him something in a whisper. He may not have told us, but on our way I noticed that Buia is “strong in ears”. In that moment Relu punched him with his right hand between the eyes, the man he raised him, Buia felt down. Then he started to hit him like a lunatic with his feet. People were mused. A few jumped and pushed Relu trying to get Buia Thomas up. With the least effort he got left, spoke up:
– Don’t get me up. Turn me over so that I can see my heart, my soul, that I loved as my own self and I don’t even know why I deserve this treatment from him.
With tears in his eyes standing on a side he was looking speechless at what he had and what he cherished the most in this world, at Relu, at HIS child. Relu went running, screaming over the hills, to Purcaret …
At the hospital doctor got over themselves but Buia’s body was too out of repair from the hard and unhealthy work, from the life he had taken, so the medicines could fight and bear against the diesis and suffering he went through.
In winter Buia died.

Above his house, under his gallery from Purcaret, on a knob from the hill they buried until the second RESSURECTION.
Relu ran off because of his shame, of his awfulness after what he had done. He has bitten the hand of the one he gave him to eat. He punched the one that cut off from his piece of bread so that he could fid him, teach him, build him a home, and place him in the same line with all the people. That’s how he thank the man that have done everything so he would be well and God what didn’t he do! He cannot explain his gesture but since he was unemployed it seemed God has darkened his mind and life. Healthy he was, except his only affection. He could cut, chop, sell and build wood. In the neighborhood there was an old man that was paying for occasionally necessary household work, he could build up houses, daub, any work there was to do he could do it, healthy he was, only the fact they unemployed him was humiliating him. All these homemaking work he was doing also when he was working as he was a capable and hard working man, but now he could not do anymore, he could not find his inner peace, inside his home. He missed waking up at a regular time, going to work regardless the weather. He was missing that working discipline he was raised in, being incapable in choosing. While he wasn’t at work, when it was a feast day, he used to get drunk with all his friends. Now he had all day long free and he had no idea how to act. After he went across the hills for two days, he saw himself near Halmeu. He didn’t have any id with, he passed the Hungarian border. He went at the Salgatorian mines. There he found other helpmates, they guaranteed for him and he worked there for more than a year. He could not get a high class salary if he didn’t show up his id that would proof his competences. He sent home all he “gathered” and asked them to send him all his papers, including passport. The wife thanks him for the money and the fact he thinks about them, wished him health and then she wrote him that: “father, after the punch you gave him, died”.

Relu continued his work, but as days went by his helpmates noticed he was more cheerful, even more he started to hum the same song: “I loved you …” The normally reaction process he had to answer between an order and the execution were getting longer, sometimes after he was executing it they become others than the needed ones. Fixing a timber he was close to “get it into the head” of the helpmate that employed him here. This one, with a firm move, caught his arm and turned it. Relu had an impersonal look, a lost one. He was going crazy. He was working only from automatism. If it hadn’t have been for his own force and skills not only that he wouldn’t have won anything but he might not have lived. They took him to the doctor. He took him to “bolondhaz”. From in there the family came and took him home. He is a calm patient after how volcanic he used to be. One thing they cannot stop him to do. He wakes up daily at four o’clock. He dresses up in his overall, takes the lamp and haversack and leaves … at the mine. He gets there, and looks at the gallery’s opening. He goes at the “lamparie” (the place in the mine where they keep the lamps) and gets back home. Then, like none of this had happen, he does the house holding work, without saying anything to anyone. He eats only when the dinner is ready. If you head a plate towards him, he takes it and runs away to come back whenever God wants. Doctors have declined their competence in his behavior. Maybe this is how he would end his life.

On the holy day of Saint Varvara, 2001
Baia-Mare – Ilba Handal