Orphans of Eldorado - Milton Hatoum [6]
I discovered my father wasn’t at home when Florita, dressed only in a nightgown, gave me a tight, long embrace. I felt her strong hands moving over my back, lowered my head and whispered: Servants can sniff things out. Look what happened when we had fun that afternoon.
She loosened her grip and looked at me with a guiltless smile: Don’t you want some more? Was it just that afternoon?
That afternoon produced a lifetime’s jealousy. I asked if she’d known I was coming.
Neither you nor your father can live far from here, she answered.
That’s what she said; then she went to get my bath ready. I noted that Amando’s hammock was slung in the same place in the parlour. My room was cleaned and ready, with the mosquito net hung over the bed as if I’d never left home. In the back garden, I spoke to the caretaker and his wife. Almerindo and Talita came to live in the back of the white palace when Amando abandoned the Boa Vida plantation to dedicate himself to his freighters. Florita, out of spite or jealousy, treated the couple as if they were strangers. They hadn’t lost the subservient habit of calling me ‘Doctor’, as they did when I was a boy. Almerindo did repairs in the house, whitewashing the façade after the winter rains. Talita looked after the garden and cleaned the stone centrepiece of the fountain. It was in the shape of my mother’s head; Amando had had it made after she died. From a very young age, I used to look at the young face, the grey stone eyes which seemed to question me. I was on my knees in front of the head when I smelled the waft of scent from the Bonplant perfumery. Florita informed me that the bath was full. After the bath she served lunch: beans with pumpkin and maxixe, grilled fish and farofa with turtle eggs.
Your father’s completely stuffed with food. He didn’t even have a siesta.
Where is he?
In the Carmelite School. He went to see the headmistress. Then he was going to Dr Estiliano’s house.
Our meeting’s at five, I said, knowing Florita already knew. But I want to see the old man first.
Be careful not to turn Christmas sour, she warned me.
Is he in a good mood?
When he’s in Vila Bela he’s only short of hugging the moon.
I went to Ribanceira and waited in the shade of the cuiarana tree. Vila Bela was hiding from the hot sun. Everything was still in the afternoon heat. I remember the noise of a boat, the sounds of a river that never sleeps. The school gardener opened the gate and this tall, burly man appeared, in dark jacket and trousers. He wasn’t wearing a hat. I thought this might be the moment to talk. Between us there was the shadow of my mother: the suffering he’d borne since her death. For Amando, I had put a brutal end to a love story. I was afraid of the confrontation, and hesitated. He took quick steps, his hands clenched as if the fingers had been amputated, his eyes fixed on a point somewhere in front of him. His well-combed hair looked like a helmet. My father was walking towards the white palace. As I emerged from the shade, he lifted his head towards the bell in the tower, swung round and walked towards Matadouro Street. I think he’d decided to go to Estiliano’s house straight away. At the end of the square he stopped, and his crossed arms grabbed his shoulders as if he was hugging his own body. He slowly bent his legs and fell to his knees. His head was shining