Books Burn Badly - Manuel Rivas [143]
‘Except for Zonzo,’ said Father Munio, knowing he’d get a laugh. ‘On him, I see the savage sincerity of silence.’
Which is why the surprise was complete when Zonzo raised his hand the day of the championship for God.
‘In three words, God.’
‘The Great Champ,’ said Zonzo. A ripple of nervous laughter spread across the three rows of desks.
Father Munio, standing on the rostrum, held his chalk aloft. His eyes bounced off various heads until reaching the back of the classroom and landing on Zonzo like a discovery. He blinked. With a winged gesture of his gloves, he quietened the murmurs.
‘Could you repeat that?’
‘The Great Champ,’ said Zonzo in a powerful voice.
‘Magnificent,’ said Father Munio. He wrote on the blackboard in capital letters THE GREAT CHAMP. Remarked, ‘Extraordinary.’
Zonzo, amid applause, came and occupied the front desk. It was the first time he’d emerged from the shadows.
‘More answers.’
‘The Most High.’
‘Lord God Omnipotent.’
‘In three words, God. Gabriel?’
Gabriel had spent the previous evening jotting down notes for the competition for God. He’d found two images, two references to the Creator, inspired by postcards sent by Santiago Casares from Durtol Sanatorium, to be precise, accurate: the Universal Architect and the Most Mysterious. But he had been warned. His mouth would refuse to say these words. He’d get tongue-tied.
‘Father, Son, Spirit.’
‘That is true. Three distinct persons and only one true God. Classic,’ his white gloves moved like the doves of a magician, ‘but I’m after something new, an updated message. And today’s biggest contribution came from our new ace.’
He lifted Zonzo’s hand like a boxer’s.
‘We’ll make a mural in the quad.’
GOD, THE GREAT CHAMP
There it was after so long, visible for all to see, Zonzo’s biro. In his hand. He was sitting at the front desk and holding it. He was writing his Religion exam in Father Munio’s class and using that special biro with the naked woman. They couldn’t detect the details, but any of the pupils could imagine the movements of that Swedish woman, Zonzo had said she was a Swede, completely naked, riding up and down the biro, in the chamber of water, as he wrote. He’d always been careful only to show it outside school. And not to everybody. But the biro, bandied from mouth to mouth, had become famous. It was a legend that had almost been forgotten until it reappeared the day of the exam in Zonzo’s hand. Zonzo, who had just been promoted and was now occupying the position of class captain.
Yes, the first time he saw it, Gabriel would have swapped all the items in his cabinet of curiosities for that transparent biro, full of liquid, with the naked woman swimming to and fro. He also had a water biro, which was pretty and Swedish, but there was no comparison. A present from Grandpa Samos. What moved up and down was the royal flagship Vasa, partly coated in gold, which was going to stun the seas with its radiance, but got its real reputation for sinking on the day it was launched. His Vasa biro was curious, but it paled into insignificance next to Zonzo’s naked swimmer. Something they all wanted to possess. Something out of reach.
Zonzo’s biro carried on writing and seemed to grow in front of everyone. It shook like a mast. He hesitated over the question which God created first, the lion or the swallow. He hazarded a guess. First the lion. No. Reason told him the lighter would come first. He thought a lion would never be able to catch a swallow. He went on to the next question. What words did Our Lord utter when he prepared to create man? Zonzo