What Can I Do When Everything's On Fire?: A Novel (67 page)

—
No theater at all, Dona Helena, they wanted me to

a creature was eating out of a bowl, the only thing she was looking at was the paper parasol, the creature was chewing

I don’t remember its raining at that time

—What have you got for me today, Soraia?

the marigolds were crackling with hunger, disappointing the gulls, you had on my mother’s apron and were carrying the fertilizer, your wiggly stage walk, your little head was worried, stop putting on an act for me, father

my father emptied the flour bag onto the counter and a sharp gleam of stones, the creature with the bowl came limpng over, one of his legs just like mine, the other flopping, slow, one of those rolls on a window shade worn by use

I picked up the electrician’s conch shell and from the shell the sea said

—
Hello, Paulo

and while my mother explained to the dwarf

—You’re safe for now

the creature was separating diadems, medallions, and buckles, putting her knife down, she held a pin up to the light, pushed everything toward the bag of flour, her look going from my father to the bowl

—Do you like playing games, Soraia?

playing games in a one-story place on the outskirts of Mérida, oak trees, poplars, they held her by her head, Alcides held open her jaw with a piece of metal

—Oh, such a pretty little mouth

when they hit the nerve it wasn’t pain, it was the jab of a lightning bolt, all her bones were on fire, turning into mushy lard and then on fire again, maybe a scream, I don’t know, father, how can somebody scream and not know she’s screaming?

think about swings, stretch out the tips of your toes, go up into the sky, you remember hogs being butchered, their guts torn out, the buckets of blood, your blood, stretch out the tips of your toes, why don’t you scream, you don’t exist, the hope of dying exists, scarlet flowers, your uncle’s wife undressing you, a single scarlet flower that sobs, the moans you turned into, Alcides doesn’t exist, the drill doesn’t exist, you don’t exist, the pain exists, understand, the pain exists

—The boob fainted, give him some water

the pain exists, I didn’t faint

—Give him some water

the pain exists, a jab of fire you don’t understand, your wife on the pillow, repeating

—What about me, Carlos?

the pain exists and in the middle of the pain, the creature was pushing the bowl up against his chest

—Do you like playing games, Soraia?

in the bowl were olives, chicken, vegetables, the pain exists, how can I show the creature, how can I make her see

—I’m flat broke, Dona Odete, there must be an emerald there that’s worth something

the bowl and the knife mocking him

—Emeralds?

the bowl and the knife noticing me

—Is that your son?

how to make him see that the pain exists, they’d taken his fox fur piece, his gold earrings

—They took my fox fur piece and my gold earrings, there must be an emerald there that’s worth something

how to make him see that the pain exists and there’s no swing on which to escape the pain, it’s impossible to touch the sky with the tips of his toes, to find a mail truck to take us away, an electrician who leaves a shell on the wall, oak trees, poplars, Alcides was checking out the room, feeling the pillow, you and the mattress were huddled against the wall, father, you, a clown, you, a scarlet flower, sobbing

—There’s money missing here, Soraia

not remembering my mother or me, he was remembering the rent to be paid, the music that was turned up just when the drill

—Don’t move

I was pounding the spoon on the saucepan when they held open his mouth with the piece of metal

pain exists

Friday, February twenty-third, so as not to hear his piglet squeals, not to hear his guts being torn out, the buckets of blood, his hope that there might be an emerald that’s worth something, and the bowl

—Emeralds?

the bowl of chicken and vegetables or the limping leg

—Take that junk away, Soraia

pounding on the saucepan, keeping up my pounding on the saucepan, I found the coin under the refrigerator, I gave it to my mother and my mother to white pants, to the owner of the café, to me

—Do you really think all I’m worth is one coin?

not a grown woman, a child talking in her sleep, in my grandmother’s house I came across a picture of her in a drawer and cramped writing, where you could imagine erasures and a nose over her shoulder

—Just look at that handwriting

lines in pencil so there’ll be no mistakes an eraser couldn’t remove, the tip of the pencil catching on the paper, the nose threatening her

—Oh, my

To my aunt and uncle from Judite, and a date written out

—Don’t you know how to write numbers, Judite?

don’t ask me if all you’re worth is one coin, don’t make me talk, I read

To my aunt and uncle from Judite, once, twice, eight times and it wasn’t you, a girl younger than I, dark, skinny, To my aunt and uncle from Judite, you were never that one, mother, you didn’t have any aunt and uncle, you were a schoolteacher, you married my father and that was that, you were looking at the stove noticing the broken burner and the enamel you’d pulled off, buttoning up your dress without getting it right

—I’m sorry

bumping into yourself in the wardrobe mirror, a child amazed at the conch shell on the wall, amazed at us, a clump of gentian detached from the branch, scarlet flowers, the only scarlet flowers that scream, my grandmother running her finger over the picture

—Your mother

a dark child, skinny, crouching timidly

—I’m sorry

tears on the window and the smell of the woods closer by, wild fig trees, acacias, firs, the ebb-tide waves that the horses were licking, the place where the Tagus, tired of bumping into mountains, castles, dams, mills, desolate

I thought

plains, finally reaches the ocean and dissolves in it with a kind of sigh or something like that, I’m finishing my story and there’s not much left to say, just say my father at Príncipe Real with the bag of flour and with me, lay off the theatrics, father, Alcides waiting for us in the armchair in the living room in the midst of open trunks, showing the wallet and there were no coins

—There’s money missing here, Soraia

not just Alcides, a buddy in white pants with him, I didn’t look at the buddy, I only looked at the pants, the trace of an oil stain on the crease, the tinkling of keys and the tinkling of keys saying

—Shall we kill him and throw him in the river, shall we lock him up in the closet?

Alcides checking the lock on the bedroom door, the bathroom, the pantry, looking at me, at my father, locking me in the pantry

—We’re going to play hide-and-seek, so you hide here my father

—Paulo

I wanted my father to say

—Paulo

Mr. Couceiro to say

—Paulo

Dona Helena to say

—Paulo

I wanted my mother to say to Alcides

—Just a minute

my mother to say to white pants

—Wait

putting me down beside the cistern, giving me a saucepan and a wooden spoon, the Gypsy women were coming back from the beach with buckets and in the buckets were crabs, mussels, if a dolphin was beached on the sand they’d call to each other in Galician, when my father reaches the beach, counting the oaks and poplars of Mérida, the short little Romanian will climb up onto the first-floor balcony and

a flowerpot

falling down along with her, the railroad station that called us at night, farther away than I’d imagined by the sound of the trains the sound was quite close by

everything was close by in the darkness, the pups, the moon, or the clock on the roof of the station, slipping through underbrush, staggering, running, this shoe, that shoe, I thought I heard voices looking for him and now barefoot, running, maybe not even voices, oaks, poplars, lungs, the ramp where he hurts himself, running, stopping, but nobody there, the spoon on the saucepan and the coin

—Paulo

running, the silence of the pantry, the silence of the house, the silence of Príncipe Real, Dona Aurorinha on the landing, and running, reaching the station through some warehouses on a slope, my grandmother sketching the picture with her finger

—Your mother

and running, a dark, skinny girl. To my aunt and uncle from Judite, the tip of the pencil catching, the nose over her shoulder, just look at that hand writing

running

they brought the pig in on a plank, its feet were tied, a piece of swill was still in its throat, faded eyelids, not eyelids with makeup, skin in need of a shave, little eyes that didn’t see

running

Alcides and white pants hung him from the hook, do you want my conch shell, father, and running, the glass bowls, my uncle’s wife undressing him, bath time, Carlos, the water pump back and forth, the wasps’ paper roses, no more arguments, no questions, the twenty-third of February, Friday, not bothered by the rain

running

Dona Helena was straightening out the topcoat by the landing in Anjos, trying to help us, why is my father signaling, thinking I don’t see, the campground, the pharmacy, my mother waiting for us, the mattress in the kitchen, Dália’s aunt

—Have you come back?

so they brought me back from the station and I was obedient, silent, they held me by the head and I let them hold me by the head, they ordered me not to move and I didn’t move, they ordered me to open my mouth and I opened my mouth, they kept it open with a piece of metal, they tied my ankles to the back of the chair, they folded my arms, they placed a second piece of metal on my back, they brought up a lamp and I didn’t turn away from the lamp, I accepted it because it wasn’t the drill, it was wasps, my father saying, don’t touch, be careful, and suddenly, thank God, near the bridge, I reached the ocean and dissolved in it with a kind of sigh or something like that, I was all alone in the dark facing the wall, looking at the refrigerator, the stove

—Judite

the steps in the yard came up inch by inch, my wife

—What about me, Carlos?

and even though my wife didn’t reach it

she stood there hesitating, stopped

I’m sure she recognized me, saw me, moved to one side, because of the wardrobe mirror the two of us, my son walking toward us, sitting on the ground with a saucepan and a wooden spoon, scraping the spoon softly over the saucepan, and I must have dozed off

not fainted, dozed off

I must have dozed off because Alcides wasn’t there, or the diadems, the medallions, the buckles either, there was the cedar at Príncipe Real chatting with me in Latin, a lot of herons on the bridge beams, and Judite handing me a coin in her cupped hand.

(not really Sintra, Mem Martins, near the railroad station, I like the trains at night, my late mother pausing to listen

—The eleven o’clock mail train

and it was just as though we were still together)

purchased quite cheaply

what I mean to say is at a good price because I hate bragging

from the English people who were going back home and were complaining about the climate, the dampness, their bones taking on water and I, yes indeed, yes sir, I agree completely, Mister, sir, rheumatism all over their bodies, pains in their joints, it’s time to go, go back to sunny London, here’s your check

I enlarged the pool, put in a statue and some lights, built a new gate with elephants on the posts, kept their sofas, my wife had wanted something in cretonne

—Keep those sofas?

but I was up on civilized matters and in agreement with the fact that Europeans and monarchies are way ahead of us

—If the English people can relax on them, it means they’re good holding back no secrets, without any talk, I limited myself to opening my eyes wide and speaking more softly

—If the English people can relax on them, it means they’re good

she was submissive, shrugging her shoulders, shrug your shoulders all you want because I don’t even notice it, girl, if my mother were living with us

—Be quiet

smiling, looking toward the window

—The eleven o’clock mail train

it says in the Bible that woman has to obey man and no matter how intelligent my wife may be, and that’s not really the case, who’s going to argue with the Bible, even though nothing is there

I think

about forbidding you to shrug your shoulders, I pretended it wasn’t important, what’s the point in wasting gunpowder on sparrows, if she grumbled, that was something else, but that’s only her way of doing her gymnastics to avoid getting all hunched over, it was logical for the sofas to be in the living room, big, ugly, solid, leather, not all that comfortable, hogging all the space, my wife, pointing to those monstrosities, asked

—What is it about all this stuff?

and even though I agree with her and I know there’s no reason whatever for any of it, if I give in to her, good-bye authority, so I light a cigarette or play with the dog or whistle, all cuddled up on the sofa so she’ll think I’m fine, and I was thinking it’ll be too bad if you think I look uncomfortable

when I remember my mother, I remember her cupping her hand to her ear

—
The eleven o’clock mail train

my wife seems to understand me then, with those female antennae of hers, and she goes back to the peace of her crocheting, uncomfortable too, while I wonder and ask myself

my mother

—Who’s she?

—Whatever got into my skull to get myself hooked up with you? getting on in age the way you are

two years older than I

my mother rolling her eyes

—
Two years older than you?

with the bulb in her heart blinking, plugged in poorly or maybe a loose connection, the doctor

—Rest and cut down on salt

lunch was tasteless, broiled fish and broiled meat that didn’t taste like anything anymore, and then broccoli and carrots instead of rice, sauce, potatoes, I explained to the doctor, the doctor lowered his glasses looking down at my belly

—You could lose some weight too, my friend

forget about the trains and confess to me that I’ve gotten fat, mother

and since he’s an expensive doctor and a professor of medicine at the hospital, before he gets to my spleen, he asks me if I drink and I lie to him, swearing

—Never touch it

unfortunately I have to drink, not because of any urge or addiction but because of my job of sitting down with the customers, except that most of the time I drink the same little cup of tea as the girls while the men have their bubbly, I go from table to table with a little glass in my hand, avoiding any invitations with a word, a hello, praise

—Always in the best of health, mister engineer

taking care of their requests

—If you don’t mind, could you introduce me to the lady who closes the show?

I tell Dona Amélia, discreetly because customers demand good manners, respect

—Send Marlene to number nine

and if Marlene or Micaela or Vanda or Sissi, having forgotten the rules and the fact that I make sacrifices for my people, say

—I’m tired

I trot right over and set them straight and point to the street door

—There’s the way out

because as soon as they feel secure, they start to act up and take advantage, I’ve been in the racket for thirty years, fighting with transvestites

thirty-one on the eighth of January

and I give what advice I can to beginners, although I wouldn’t recommend this miserable existence to anybody, it’s

—Don’t let them act up with you, don’t let them take advantage

what happened to the eleven o’clock mail train?

or hit them with a fine against their percentage from time to time so the fine ladies will get it into their heads who’s in charge

God wrote it in the Bible

and other than that, I treat them according to what they think they are and leave them alone, as far as I’m concerned as long as they do their job they can even kill themselves, far away from the disco, it’s no business of mine, they come into my office all the time asking for work, they line up in the hallway, shaking their falsies

—I’m a girl, didn’t you know?

they swear that nature made a mistake, as if nature’s mistakes would soften me up: they only help me make a living. Thank God that nature spends its time making mistakes because that’s why they show up in my office, half-bashful and half-aggressive, with shaved chins and a transparent little blouse

—I’m a girl, didn’t you know?

ready for Dona Amélia to teach them how to dance and pretend that they’re singing

—Move this way, move that way, look sad here and laugh here

escorted by characters who look at me out of the corners of their eyes and, after coming up against the bartender, settle right down

—I’m only here because I’m a friend, I swear

they simmer down, scratching an ear

—I don’t want any trouble, I don’t want any trouble

all of a sudden polite, humble, good boys basically, agreeing that we’re helping them out with a little lesson in life, wiping their mouths with a handkerchief, checking the handkerchief, wiping again, the bartender, like a buddy, giving them his

—I was only thinking about your future, you’ll thank me for it later on

and most of the time they really do thank him

—I’ll never forget that friendly little whack

a few who seem intelligent to me do odd jobs for me, I’ve got Fausto, Romeu, Alcides looking over the market according to my rules, if they piss outside the pot the bartender says

—You’d better take good care of your lip

too bad for the eleven o’clock mail train in Pinhel, too bad for me

there are still two days

it’s an example

Alcides is tapping me on the shoulder, he only taps me on the shoulder when it’s something important

—Thursday at six o’clock I’m bringing in a little something that will be of interest to you, boss

and that afternoon he did introduce me to a boy who reminded me of somebody, I don’t know who, I heard him speak and said to myself

—I know you

without catching on to where I knew him from, I swear, I said to myself

—I’ve seen that face before

that face, that way of walking, that voice, just the same as I’d seen the suitcase he was carrying, not a new suitcase, the catch was repaired with adhesive tape and wire

and underneath the plumes I was also sure I’d seen, a blonde wig I’ll bet

not a redhead, not platinum, blonde

purple nail polish, strapped shoes, I told him to go fix himself up to be examined in the dressing room that used to be a pantry during the time when the club had been an apartment

it still smelled of rats and peach preserves

Alcides was nervous

—Anything wrong, boss?

while I was wringing out the rags of memory that weren’t dribbling anything out except mothers and trains

—I know you, I know you

Alcides, careful

—What’s that?

uncorking the mineral water that the doctor had recommended to me for cleaning out my bladder, I said

—I know you

becoming aware of the

—I know you

getting irritated, correcting

—That’s enough

Alcides was offended but nice and quiet, just like my wife, with the only difference that we weren’t living together, if he ever came across the English people’s sofas, I can guarantee what his reaction would be

—Those sofas?

shrugging his shoulders in silence, all cramped up there without my noticing and I was saying to myself

—I know you

not hitting on what place, you remind me of someone but what someone, I could swear we’ve met somewhere, spent some years together, we spoke, Alcides was acting like an orderly

—Mr. Sales

I must have scared him, because he sank into the chair waving his little hands, repeating

—All set, all set

when the other one came back, I didn’t need a diagram, here it was at last, it certainly looked to me that this was it, the spangled waistband, the silken eyebrows, the beauty spot on the cheek, Alcides, with the gesture of an impresario, saying

—I give you Paulo

and then what I was expecting happened, everything came together, everything was finally clear

why hadn’t I known right away, why hadn’t I realized?

I knew the rings, I knew the earrings, the merry little pirouette that brought back memories, the bracelets that went up to Alcides’s chin with a tender little pinch, the red lipstick completing the effect, and then

how was it I hadn’t realized, I’m so dumb, you were right, mama, and then

what did you expect?

—My name is Soraia

she said.