Once Upon a Time in Rio by Francisco Azevedo

Author:Francisco Azevedo
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atria Paperback

THE INVISIBLE AND THE NONEXISTENT

Memories baffle us. A vital fact eludes us, a little everyday act remains. When I receive the news of the accident that befell Dona Maria Celeste and Senhor Avelino, the first thing that occurs to me is the image of the two of them having their breakfast. He used to dip his buttered bread into the coffee and bring it dripping to his lips. She thought this was terribly impolite, but she had to put up with it, he was her husband. Well, that is what popped into my head the moment I learned that the two of them had died. Senhor Avelino, his bread cut into four pieces, one of them already dunked in the coffee, his head half turned to take a bite out of the soaking piece. And Dona Maria Celeste, incredibly irritated, looking away. Does that make any sense? At the identification of the bodies, at the wake, when the time came to lower the coffins, again and again I saw that image of the two of them. No horror, no pain kept this intimate memory from me. Life registered in me more than death. Nothing glamorous, just day-to-day familiarity. I liked them. The old man, especially. After I married Isabel, he always called me his son. Not Dona Maria Celeste. Extremely friendly, she was always that—affectionate, even—but she preferred to retain a certain distance, a certain formality. How could I have guessed that the two of them would have gone together, and so tragically? The bodies had to be brought from the state of Minas Gerais. The accident happened on the road to São João Del Rey. I was the one who took care of everything. Everything. I tried to shield Isabel from as much as I could. Not possible—there’s no way. The most I can do is offer her my arm—she accepts, a conditioned reflex. She doesn’t say a word, doesn’t shed a tear. She greets people, automatically. I rather suspect she doesn’t yet completely have a real sense of what’s happened. What memories are going through her head? There are already a good number of people gathered at the chapel of São João Batista. The priest who will deliver the eulogy. He talks too much. Much too much. He seems to like being the center of attention. At last, the relief of the holy water being sprinkled, the In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, amen; all bad things must come to an end—and good things, too. The coffins carried with silent steps, the tomb of polished white marble, the sorrowful angel awaiting its new inhabitants. I doubt he will be serving them breakfast.

AVELINO DE ALVES MACHADO

March 13, 1877–September 22, 1952

MARIA CELESTE DE ALVES MACHADO

December 17, 1880–September 22, 1952

The gravediggers take up their roles in the new scene. They lift off the lid. As the saying goes: “On the outside, a beautiful craft in full sail . . . On the inside, old bread gone stale.

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