The wind hit them head-on like gentle hands that wanted to prevent them from moving forward, the fine sand delayed their walking, and the sunlight shining indifferently almost blinded them. The sea undulated slightly, and the timid breaking of the waves was the only sound — curiously enough the birds could not be heard, unlike usual, and especially the cicadas who, at that time of day, with their songs, were predominant. Vésper, afraid on the one hand and quite moved on the other to go to the village, had his mind full of strange things and confused thoughts — even because he suddenly remembered quite well the dream about the paper people; in detail! Mentesúfis, in turn, showed some tiredness, besides the concern. He decided to stop to catch his breath, sitting down on a rock. The boy, so engrossed, only realised that the other one had stopped a few steps later. He turned back, apologised for going so fast, and sat next to him.
They had remained in silence up to that point; facing the East, they could already sight some of the houses in the village, in evidence rose the fish factory partially supported on its stilts of thick wood with stone feet immersed on the edge of the sea. Vésper picked up some small stones distractedly and threw them indolently against each other in an arcing motion…
‘Since primeval times in Petra, the men had gathered in an outdoor area for a leisure activity consisting of throwing little balls against each other on unpaved ground, just like you are doing, and with certain rules, of course!’, observed Mentesúfis, getting up. He stretched releasing a small protest, resting his hands on his kidneys. Vésper looked up and asked him whether the women did not play also, to which the Master responded that they were always so busy: either with their homes and children, or hatching plans, sometimes against each other, always doing as they pleased about this and that, so the only time they had left over was for loving… and dreaming.
‘Master, are you certain that is what I asked you?’
‘I do not know, but I am certain this is what I wanted to answer you. Unintentionally, you made me recall one woman in particular, who I had the privilege of knowing, and who one day, when fear darkened my spirit and hindered my reason, leaving me but a scant distance from self-destruction, took my two hands in hers and said to me: “women are little girls that time corrupts… men are eternal little boys who, over time, little girls have, love and want to protect from time, because only the unique love of which man is capable will keep them safe, and the dream…”’
The youth, who had listened to him attentively, lowered his head, put his hands in his pockets and, giving a little kick to one of the small stones, went on to say that surely all that had various readings, and one of them would certainly be his, and that in time he would discover it…
‘If you do not already know it!’, noted the older man; and, giving him a pat on the shoulder, they resumed walking. ‘Ah, my young friend, Time… is our greatest ally, and our greatest enemy…’
They were almost reaching the first flight of pontoon stairs before the village and Vésper, as at the beginning of the previous night, stopped, lightly holding his friend’s arm, and, turning towards him, asked about the story he had told, who the woman was, and why he felt such a nefarious fear. The face of Mentesúfis became sombre and sad, and he explained that the origin of such feeling was the imminence of the death of Sal, his wife: he could not bear the idea of living without her, until someone called his attention to the baby girl in the crib, at the imminence of life, in need of the unique love of her father, which would keep her safe, and the dream.
‘That someone was Aira, your mother. She and your father, Dérop, were here on the island of Nana only one time, visiting the Guilhermes, and you were in her belly. They left days later, and you were born shortly thereafter.’ The young man smiled, and his eyes wandered, for a brief moment, from the face of Mentesúfis to the sea, beating gently on the breakwaters.
‘Master, have you noticed that the boats have disappeared?! You cannot even see one…’
‘Indeed, it is strange…’, commented the old man, pensively. ‘Where could they have gone? And all at the same time!’
They continued walking, and quickly noticed that something was not right. At that hour, the fishermen should have been under the fish factory, protected by its shade, mending the nets until the women brought their meals; then they would noisily eat and drink. However, when the two of them took a closer look, they realised that everything was as though it had been abandoned: the nets, the needles, the twine and even the raincoats were all in place, everything except their respective owners. The abnormal silence was only broken by the persistent to-and-fro of the sea. They passed the factory, and were astonished by what they saw: besides the disappearance of the boats, the entire village was now a spectre of what it had been until a few hours earlier. The houses were like phantoms wanting to wail without a voice to do so, the doors and windows wide open, and of the people… nothing. It was a ghost village.
‘The giant has also disappeared…’, noted the youth.
Suddenly, the sky blackened, darkening the sea, both becoming molten in a lead colour; the waves grew and broke against everything that opposed them, and a torrential rain struck them, forcing them to seek shelter in the factory, since that was the closest one. They climbed the stone staircase, and entered the small room where accounts were tallied upon the arrival and departure of the fish. It was a glass-enclosed first floor, with a view of almost the entire beach, and part of the houses that were closest to the breakwaters. There they remained, waiting for the downpour to stop. They observed from up there, quietly, the unusual scenario. Mentesúfis asked:
‘Vésper, what giant?’
‘The enormous vessel that came through the breakwaters last night, into the village. Did the Master not see it, when you went out, after us?’
‘Ah, that giant! Indeed, it was one of the largest I have seen. It probably belonged to one of the shipowners of the Northern Cliffs. Only they have ships of such dimensions. But why are you interested in this “giant”, in particular? Surely you have seen others, since you have been here!’, said the older man, trying to decipher what the youth was not telling him.
‘Aquilone…’, whispered Vésper. Mentesúfis looked at him, expectantly.
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Next…
The Story of the Orb | Episode 13
Girls and Whims — ‘Tears of all the peoples’
At the fish factory, Mentesúfis reveals to Vésper the atrocious story of Vaz, father of Sal, in the Old Orient.
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