The Abyss in the Darkness
Four children, an angry man, and a hiding place that could have cost them their lives.
By Ovi Catanescu, based on the memories of my brother, Adi
There are childhood experiences you never forget.
And there are others you forget so completely that not even your own brother can bring them back to you.
This story belongs to the second category.
A few days ago, my brother Adi and I were talking about our childhood in Brăila, Romania, the adventures we had, and the places we explored without giving much thought to the dangers around us.
At one point, Adi began telling me about an incident that, according to him, could have cost us our lives.
I listened, tried to remember, and finally had to admit:
“Adi, I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about!”
But he remembered it vividly.
The Man on the Bicycle
There were four of us: Adi, me, Bebe Pătrașcu, and Liviu Petrișor.
Like many children growing up in Brăila in those days, we spent much of our time outdoors, exploring neighborhoods, discovering new places, and always finding something to get ourselves into.
One afternoon, near St. George’s Church, a man on a bicycle came after us.
He began shouting insults and threats.
Why?
Even today, we don’t know for certain.
Adi remembers a peculiar neighborhood character known as “The Man with the Green Hat.”
A few girls, including Mihaela, Sanda, and Nuți, used to tease him and make jokes at his expense.
We were often nearby, but according to Adi, we didn’t really bother him.
Perhaps the man chasing us was that same fellow, finally determined to get even for all the teasing he had endured.
Or perhaps it was someone else entirely.
Adi remembers that our pursuer wasn’t wearing a hat. But who knows? Maybe it had fallen off!
What we do know is that the man was furious and had started chasing us on his bicycle.
And we ran.
The Chase Through Brăila
We ran as fast as our legs could carry us.
Four children pursued by an angry adult who showed no intention of giving up.
The chase began near St. George’s Church and continued toward the new apartment buildings under construction along Karl Marx Boulevard, not far from the Danube River and its waterfront promenade.
Years later, those buildings would become home to Nina, Nuța, and Cristina, people we knew.
To us, the construction site seemed like the perfect place to lose our pursuer.
There were wooden forms, cranes, piles of bricks, concrete mixers, and construction materials everywhere.
A genuine concrete jungle.
Just what four frightened boys needed when they were desperately looking for somewhere to hide.
But the man wasn’t ready to quit.
He abandoned his bicycle and came after us on foot.
Things were getting serious.
The Hiding Place
We managed to slip inside one of the unfinished buildings.
On the ground floor, we found an enclosed space with a ceiling but no windows.
Outside, it was still broad daylight.
Inside, it was pitch-black.
We squeezed into the darkness and pressed ourselves against a wall, trying not to make the slightest movement.
We were exhausted from running, gasping for breath while desperately trying not to make a sound.
We could hear the man searching through the construction site.
He was swearing.
He was looking for us.
But he couldn’t see us.
And we couldn’t see him.
Fortunately, he didn’t dare enter the darkness where we were hiding.
We, on the other hand, had rushed straight in without a second thought.
Perhaps fear had given us courage.
Or perhaps it had temporarily deprived us of common sense!
Time seemed to stand still.
Adi remembers that it felt like an eternity.
Eventually, the noises stopped.
The man had disappeared.
We waited a little longer, then finally dared to move.
Carefully, we stepped back into the daylight, looking in every direction, afraid he might suddenly reappear.
Eventually, we made it home.
Safe, sound, and only slightly shaken.
Or so we thought.
The Discovery the Next Day
The following day, we returned to the construction site.
Perhaps out of curiosity, or perhaps because we wanted another look at the place where we had escaped our pursuer.
That was when we made a terrifying discovery.
The spot where we had stood hiding in the darkness was right at the edge of a deep excavation, nearly thirty feet down.
An abyss.
The previous afternoon, we hadn’t seen a thing.
We had stood pressed against that wall, completely unaware that an enormous drop was only a step away.
One wrong move, and one of us could have fallen.
Adi remembers that the sandy soil and high groundwater near the Danube created serious challenges for construction.
To stabilize the foundations, workers drilled numerous deep shafts using special equipment resembling enormous corkscrews.
Once filled and compacted or reinforced with concrete, these shafts formed something like an underground forest of columns supporting the buildings above.
Adi believes we had been standing at the edge of one of those foundation shafts.
Some contained water at the bottom.
The thought that we might have fallen into one, with nobody knowing where we had disappeared, still sends a chill down his spine.
Trying to escape a man who was threatening us, we had unknowingly hidden beside a danger far greater than the one pursuing us.
The man hadn’t caught us.
And the abyss hadn’t swallowed us.
What One Brother Remembers and the Other Forgets
More than sixty years have passed since that afternoon.
Adi remembers the chase, the construction site, the darkness, and that frightening excavation.
I remember absolutely nothing.
Not the man.
Not the bicycle.
Not the running.
Not the hiding place.
When he first told me the story, I asked:
“But why was he chasing just the two of us?”
“There weren’t just two of us!” Adi replied. “Bebe Pătrașcu and Liviu Petrișor were there too!”
So apparently, I had even forgotten how many people had participated in my own adventure.
I tried to come up with an explanation.
Had we thrown stones?
Perhaps plant roots with clumps of dirt still attached?
Or had it been connected to some other childhood mischief?
Adi dismissed my theories and told me about the Man with the Green Hat.
But even he isn’t certain whether that was our pursuer.
So the mystery remains.
Sometimes I wonder how it’s possible to forget an experience in which you came so close to tragedy.
Perhaps memory preserves what it chooses, rather than what we consider important.
Fortunately, I have an older brother who remembers for both of us.
And after more than sixty years, he came up with the perfect explanation for what happened:
“Our guy may have been crazy, but even he didn’t dare go into that darkness. We were crazier than he was… or maybe just more frightened!”
I certainly can’t argue with him.
Especially since I don’t even remember the incident!
Reconstructed from Adi’s memories, with questions and contributions from his younger brother, Ovi.
“Ovi and Adi in Brăila, Romania, in the early 1960s. Two brothers, countless adventures, and memories that refuse to disappear.”
The Owl Doesn’t Forget.