Blood-drenched Beard : A Novel (9781101635612) (42 page)

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(1) i want you to masturbate every day thinking of me. promise! i spend the whole day with the taste of your skin in my mouth and feeling your hands on me. i'm feeling something that won't go away. this has never happened to me before. (2) i tried to erase my last message, sorry, how embarrassing. did you read it? am i going to see you today? ps.: Pablo loves the goggles!! why don't you teach him to swim? (3) check out the clip of that song we heard yesterday that you liked, by the guy from red hot: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gZsbODz0V3Y (4) aren't you going to answer me???

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Hey. I thought a lot before writing to you because the last time I called you, when I heard about your dad, you made it clear that you didn't want to hear from us. You can ignore this message if you like, as you have the others, and I'm sorry if I'm being pushy. But I suspect you're like that so people will come to you, because you don't want to talk first, you know? If I'm wrong, I'm just going to make things worse, but . . . I've decided to take the risk.

I only just found out that you're in Garopaba. Your mother told me you gave up the apartment and sold everything. I remember you always said you wanted to do something like that one day, to go and live by the beach. I hope things are going well for you. I imagine you hitting the water bright and early, then sitting on a rock to warm up in the sun. Are you surfing? I always thought you should surf. Sometimes it's only life's jolts and bumps that make us take the plunge and act on our dreams. I only wish you well and always will. You know that (even though you don't want to hear it, but you know it, don't you?). Your mother said you talk to her, but you hardly speak to anyone else in Porto Alegre and didn't tell anyone where you were going. Of all the people I know, you're the one who most has his demons under control, but I'm sure they're there inside you because I've seen them. I know I fed them, and I'm really sorry for it. Solitude wears people down, and I'd hate to see them take hold of you while you're there alone, not knowing anyone. Though you like it, don't you? Or maybe you've already met a whole bunch of people and are dating a local and this idiot here is worrying for nothing. I know you're not a child, but I can't help but worry, and it's been tormenting me.

You probably think it's a bit selfish of me to be writing to you like this, to relieve my guilt. But I've always thought that you see our story in a very simplistic way. It's complicated, and we need to face it sooner or later if we want to make peace with life.

Ever since your dad died, Dante hasn't been well. I think he misses you more than ever now. He'll never admit it to you. He never wanted to do you any harm and suffered as much as we did. Maybe more even. You were able to forgive me. Couldn't you find it in yourself to forgive him too? Now that a bit of time has passed, now that your dad's gone? I don't really know what you still feel about all this, but I want to ask you not to write off the idea of forgiving him too. He tries to play the tough guy, but he has to. Both of you want to be tougher than the other. Think about it, put your heart into it. If it really isn't possible, fine. But if it is . . . it would be good for you both.

As for me, I'm enjoying São Paulo more and more. Apart from my job as a children's book editor, I now have a newspaper column about books. The thing I miss the most is the Guaíba, with that horizon, a place where I can gaze out into the distance when I'm upset. It's a bit complicated for your brother because he works from home and the city's cultural life is a temptation for him. But he's okay, besides drinking too much, in my opinion. He's writing a new book. I don't know what it's about. I told him to write about us, but he said he'll never do it. I know it's not for my sake, because he knows I don't mind. It can only be out of consideration for you. Did you really keep Beta?

I'll never forget when you introduced me to your dad, remember? He puffed up like a priest and said, “Kids, love isn't an easy thing and shouldn't be treated as such. Just try to be nice to each other. Amen.” I think he hated me in the end. He never joked around with me ever again. He must have thought I was a whore. But I'll always remember him affectionately.

I don't want to treat something that isn't easy as if it were. Until not long ago I used to dream I had fish hooks caught in my throat, and now I feel them when I'm awake. But that's precisely why I believe we should do everything we can to ease the burden. I miss you. Stay in touch. And take care. Love, Viv

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June 23, 2008. Worst hangover ever. My driving test is today. . . . Before he left, I said I was going to show him something that no one could see and took him into the corridor to the dressing room to show him the girls' mural. The girls hang things on it that make them remember why they are working there. There are photos of their kids, a key ring from New York, a lottery ticket. Márcia wants to be a flight attendant, so she put a picture of a plane there. Some things are hard to understand: a woman's leather glove, a silver ring with a skull on it, and there's one girl who always pins up a blue butterfly, and it stays there till it's all dry, and then she always replaces it with another one exactly the same. I don't know where she gets them. I told him that looking at the mural every day helps us feel a little better. Then he asked what my thing was, and I was so embarrassed 'cause I'd forgotten to pin something up there. I've never managed to choose the right thing to hang there. I like to look at what the other girls have put there. If they can achieve their goals, so can I. So he took a piece of paper out of his pocket, a pamphlet for a tour company that offers boat rides in the beach town where he lives, and folded it so all you could see was a photo of a beautiful beach, and he told me to hang it there as a reminder to call and visit him sometime. I told him again that I don't mix work with pleasure, but I left it there for the time being, to give him a bit of an ego boost. I think I'll take it down today. . . . I don't know what came over me, but I asked him to promise never to go back there or to go to that kind of place ever again. Funny thing is, he actually promised. As if! . . .

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Hey, fish. You asked for a photo of me, but I'm sending one of the two of us, because I want you to remember your own face too whenever you want to remember mine. You're very good-looking, and I reckon you know it. I'm helping my mother out in the restaurant while I decide what to do with my life. The curse of the treasure hasn't caught up with me (I hope!). I'm working on a proposal to try for a master's in Rio de Janeiro. I'm resigning myself to being alone and hoping it doesn't take you long to find the person you're looking for. I didn't mean to hurt you, and I hope you don't hold it against me. I adored being part of your life. I hope Beta is well and running on the beach with you. I like remembering how you took care of her. Put this photo of us somewhere safe. xxx J.

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By Raimundo Fagner and Antônio Carlos Belchior.

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By Leopoldo Rassier.

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