Daniel Galera - Blood-drenched Beard

Dália shows up the next day with Pablito. She brings the key to his apartment, his cell phone and battery charger, a slightly musty change of clothes, two books of crossword puzzles, the most recent issues of Playboy and O2 magazines, and a Tupperware pot containing slices of chocolate cake. She says she came with him in the ambulance and left only when the doctor assured her that everything was going to be fine. He wouldn’t wake up for anything, and she didn’t know what was going on and thought he was going to die. She had never felt anyone so hot with fever. Beta is in her backyard, being looked after by her mother, who said to tell him that she had already seen it all in dreams and tried to warn him, but he hadn’t wanted to listen. She stopped by his apartment that morning and found the door locked but went to find Cecina, explained the situation, and got a spare key so she could go and get his ID and some clean clothes. Cecina, who had found the door open and apartment empty, asked if he had a drug problem. Later in the afternoon, Dália picked up Pablo from school and came to São José by bus to visit him. Pablito offers to let him play his Nintendo DS a little. Can I hang on to it until I’m released? I’ll give it back in a few days. Pablito hugs his video game and shakes his head, and he says he is only joking. He asks Dália about her contractor boyfriend from Florianópolis, and she says they’re getting married in March. She is going to move to Florianópolis with her mother at the beginning of December. When the invitations are ready, I’ll send you one. Great, he says. I’ve always dreamed of standing up in the middle of a wedding and saying I object to this marriage. She holds his hand, and he squeezes hers back. Thank you, Dália. I don’t deserve any of this. Yes you do, she says.

When he wakes up the next morning, Bonobo is sitting next to his bed, talking to the nurse. Would you like to take some time off and spend a few days hanging out at a bed-and-breakfast in Rosa? Have you ever thought about being a model? Natália’s mouth is half open, and she looks both shocked and intrigued by the figure in front of her, but she turns back to her patient as soon as she sees that he has awoken. As she takes his temperature, Bonobo tells him that he tried to visit the day before, but Lockjaw broke down halfway there, and he had to have her towed to Paulo Lopes, where he left her at a garage. Today he got a lift with a girl who was going to Curitiba. You’re looking uglier than me, swimmer. I already know the name of the dickhead who did this to you. They say he’s at home, can’t walk, and his neck is black. How can a guy go and steal your dog like that? In times past I would’ve finished the job for you. I’d have ripped his balls off and thrown ’em to the sharks, but nowadays I only plant kindness and compassion. And anyway, no one else’ll ever give you a hard time in this town. Someone told Altair about the fight, and Altair told me. People are saying your attackers left you unconscious on the sand, but you got up and went after the guy. Wish I’d seen it. It’s a bummer that it happened, but I wish I’d seen it. Natália takes his temperature and writes it on a spreadsheet. Don’t you have those thermometers that you stick up the patient’s ass, Nati? He prefers that sort. Natália makes a face, excuses herself, and leaves. Man, what a babe, says Bonobo. Don’t you think? I’ve never seen anything like her. Get her number before you leave. When the effect of Natália’s presence wears off, Bonobo asks, What’s this story about you meeting your granddad? He thinks for a moment and then says that he has come to the conclusion that it was just a dream or that he was delirious with fever. Not only does he lie, but he embellishes. I went off hiking through the hills in the rain and got sick. I didn’t look after myself and came down with a fever, drinking and going out of my mind at home. Beta disappeared, and I didn’t even notice. I had hallucinations. I was pretty confused when we spoke on the phone. This whole story of my granddad is over for me now. I know I told you that before, but this time I’m serious. Bonobo places a hand on his shoulder. Everyone who comes here goes out of their mind a little in their first winter here, swimmer. It’s a rite of passage. I hope you make it through. I hope you stay. You’re my brother now. Remember that. If you need something, we’re brothers. Bonobo leans backward and looks serious again. I know I still owe you that money, but I’ll only be able to pay you back after the holidays. Money only flows here in the summer, as you know. I’ve got big plans for the bed-and-breakfast. This summer looks promising. There’s always a way. I’ve got plans to expand and diversify the products and services we offer. I want to target two kinds of customer: those who sympathize with Eastern religions; and hipsters. Two strong behavioral trends for the coming decade, thus two strong consumer trends. Spiritual materialism and ironic consumerism. Zen tourism and self-conscious metatourism. The first is right up my alley. It’ll be easy. Talks and courses in Buddhism, meditation sessions before breakfast included in the daily rates, a small shrine, a whole program of activities that feel like a game and makes guests feel that they’re fulfilling stages toward spiritual enlightenment, letting go of the material world and attaining happiness for themselves and others. A list of activities that they score points for and that lead to rewards. They’ll take home some kind of certificate. And there’s always going to be something under construction on the premises so people can volunteer to help. It’s kind of bad karma, but I’ve got bills to pay. The hipsters are a bit harder. They need to feel that they’re doing something authentic, but it can’t be truly authentic. The atmosphere needs to be retro and a little antiestablishment, but without these terms ever being mentioned. Hipster guests aren’t tourists. They’re authentic, alternative individuals consciously acting like tourists in touristy settings, which turns the spiritual poverty of silly commercial tourism into something cool with the wave of a magic wand. The good old long weekend at the beach repackaged as a fetish. We’ll offer authentic package deals with an old-fashioned flavor. I’ll have to work out how to exploit it. At any rate, I’m going to go ahead and get a gramophone and set up a thrift shop in the front foyer. I’ve worked it all out on PowerPoint. I’ll show you later. If you grow a seventies-style mustache, you can be my concierge. Whaddya think, swimmer? Interested?

A delegation from the gym comes to visit on his third day in hospital. Débora, Mila, the twins, Jander, and Greice arrive with flowers and a bag of homemade ginger candies from Celma, who couldn’t make it because she is at a reiki conference in São Paulo. They name themselves to spare him the trouble of recognizing them. Débora cries when she sees the state he is in but tells him not to mind her, it’s nothing, she cries easily. Jander and Greice ask about Beta and are relieved to hear that she is being looked after by someone he trusts, and they offer the kennel if he needs it. That dog’s a miracle, says Greice. Rayanne and Tayanne say that the new swimming instructor isn’t as nice as him. I mean, he’s nice, says one of them — he can no longer remember which — but he doesn’t teach us. He just tells us what to do. When we say we’ve finished warming up, he points at the whiteboard and says, okay, now you can kick your legs. We finish kicking our legs, he says, okay, now do your sets. He just repeats everything that’s on the whiteboard. Whenever I ask if I’m swimming correctly, he says yes, but he doesn’t even look. We miss you. It’s no fun without someone correcting us, encouraging us, and getting on our case all the time. He says that maybe the new instructor is right. Maybe you’re swimming so well that you don’t need someone to correct you all the time. You just need to synchronize your arms and legs well, lengthen your strokes, and feel that you are moving, gliding through the water. And work hard, of course, to get better and better. I think you’re ready, girls. Look, says one twin. That’s what we’re talking about. Get better quickly, and come back to the pool, says the other. Is there any chance you’ll come back? I don’t know, he says. Ask Débora there. The secretary shrugs and says they’ll have to ask Saucepan. When they leave, he is assailed by memories of old friends, faceless figures who are recognizable from shared experiences, and fantasizes about visits and reunions until his daydreaming is interrupted by Natália, who brings him a little cup of pills and asks if it is true that the friend who came to visit yesterday has a bed-and-breakfast in Rosa.