(Episode 33)

That night on Wednesday, as happened every night of Wednesday and Thursday and on Saturday afternoons and Sunday, a group of fans gathered in Paul’s Bar and in other places where there was a television set exposed to public to attend football games of the carioca or Paulista championship and the matches of the Brazilian team. In Mutum they were only captured the signs of Rede Globo, Rede Tupi and Rede Bandeirantes. All with direct programming of Rio de Janeiro and Sao Paulo. The State Championship football matches were not broadcast live to Mutum, as were the Carioca and Paulista championships.

Nine at night, the Tupi Network broadcast the game between Flamengo and Portuguesa, the Campeonato Carioca, direct Maracana. No one there in Paul’s Bar, worried about what might be happening in the works of the road to Lajinha, on the edge of San Manuel and Mutum rivers, in the barracks of the military at the Municipal Stadium and not with bombs lost in São Roque.

What was important to all of us that night, were only the bids that were unfolding during the game and seen live on television in Mutum.

When the referee Arnaldo Cesar Coelho whistled the end of the match, Flamengo had won by 3-0, with a goal of Zico, a penalty and two goals from Luiz Paulo. Flamengo played with Cantarele, Junior, Rondineli, Luiz Carlos Rodrigues Neto, Liminha, Geraldo, Doval (who was replaced by Tom), Louie, Zico and Luiz Paulo.

The Flemish technician was Joubert.

The Portuguese played with Iris, Calibe Daniel Fernando (who was replaced by Niltinho) Jurandir, Carlinhos, Dinho, Jair, Charlemagne, Russian and Filet (replaced by Nivaldo).

The Portuguese Technician was Luis Mariano.

The Bar Paulo, after the game was getting the little empty. There remained only a poor souls watching, including me, in a table. While the class took beer I did not drink anything that had alcohol, I drank juice and soda as we talked about various subjects. Pure philosophy tavern. Wisdom bar table. Talk thrown away. Gossip, many gossip. These, the most recent, I learned through Fê, who was always very well informed. And that had entered the bar at one point taken me by the arm and led her to the square, where we sat on a garden bench. There I heard.

The parents of Fernanda, Faith to friends, as he liked to say, had changed Mutum to Goiania when she was a small child, five years.

The father, his Horace, had been approved in competition for the INPS and appointed to the State of Goiás Capital.

His mother, Dona Carlinha, accompanied her husband as a simple housewife. But arriving in Goiania, he got a place as municipal teacher. They lived in Goiás for seventeen years, until his Horace got a transfer to INPS station in Ipanema. But they preferred to live in Mutum, where they lived all his relatives. Your Horace worked in Ipanema and spent weekends and holidays at home, along with Dona Carlinha and Faith. Until he could move up again, this for Mutum. Or until you retire.

To twenty-two years Faith swore feet together that would make nineteen, the most expensive stick. And he closed the face if anyone doubted it. But everybody liked her and no one wanted her to be upset. Mainly because if she did not like a person, alas it. She was addicted to gossip. And the addiction to gossip and gossip in the eyes of most people proved to be much worse than the worst of any other addiction. But Faith, whenever someone would speak, apologized and began saying “Go apologize, but although I know very little of …” and then uttered the language by the time it was necessary to exhaust all the subject of that person . Then he restarted with another. For those who claimed to know very little of someone, until she was always wonderfully well informed.

Sitting there that Wednesday, after watching the victory of my Flamengo on the English I was being updated by my friend Fernanda, the Fê on everything I did not know of Mutum. Overall, I was informing me of the hidden flirtations, who betrayed who with whom, who was fighting with her husband to the point of not talking more, but tried to keep up appearances so that there were no scandals, things like that. Gossip.

At one point he asked me if I was sleeping well these days that was going through my grandparents’ house. I told him that yes, he had a deep sleep, which almost never woke up during the night. And that was always going to lie down too late, which helped me get to sleep right away when poured. She gave a belly laugh and told me it was very good that I had a deep sleep, that night in my grandfather’s yard were sometimes very lively. And the dog that was loose there, Tiger, who was very angry, used to spend barking all night. Before I could say anything she explained.

The backyard of the house of my grandparents was very large, even huge. It began on the balcony of the kitchen and ended on the street that was on the river. For backyard protection, always full of chickens, ducks, ducks, turkeys, chickens d’Angola, goats and a pig sty for the pig farm, my grandfather always left there, loose, a brave dog, those who were only arrested, without seeing a lot of strange people. And when he saw someone who was not known, almost ended up. To avoid problems with people who frequented our house, which was always full of relatives and friends, the yard was divided into three parts, separated by gates. A small one that came out of the kitchen and, on the left side, was in a garden where there was a giant coconut tree, another one, where the grapevine was and the biggest one, where the exotic fruit trees like carambola, peludinha, mango, graviola, guava , Banana trees, cajá-mango and others. During the day the Tiger was in the bottom of the yard, which was the most. When released, he was the king of the hill. Very angry. Violent, even, reigned supreme among the other animals. Occasionally kill cats, skunks and even carpet snakes, which sometimes appeared in the yard. At night the gates were opened and the backyards were connected with nothing that could stop the Tiger watching from the kitchen door by the end of the yard, downstairs.

According to he told me He did, on some nights one expected the Tiger up for the smaller yard where was the vine grapes on the kitchen door and closed the gate isolating the lower yard. Here, then, the backyard of my grandparents came to be a place of bitching, of pure bitching, too fucking rolling there. A real zone.

When I wanted to know who frequented the yard she told me smiling that “I speak the miracle smoothly. Just do not tell the holy name “ and laughed at my face in amazement. And I said the poor tiger hardly let anyone sleep so much barking and jumping like mad at the gate, trying to “catch the scoundrel of the chicken thief” that every week was there and locked the gate, as said the Godmother Mary and Elvira, holding the Tiger in the lower yard, the kitchen. It was then I remembered a day when, in one of my trips on vacation Mutum, was walking through the yard when, on the floor, I saw a used condom. At the time I thought “But how this crap get here?” And had been thinking that someone must have thrown over the fence. Now the Faith had just tell me how the condom ended up in the backyard of my grandparents.

It was also the faith that I learned the history of Mirtes, who lived in Rua Beira Rio, where it ended our backyard.

When Mirtes moved from the countryside to the city, she came, her mother Dona Armenia and younger brother, Francisco. Mirtes was 12. His father was killed in an ambush and who killed him had not been found or discovered. The motives for the crime were also not known.

In the city, Dona Armenia worked as a seamstress and Mirtes, still young, have helped her mother selling hillbilly eggs and cakes made in house, from door to door. Francisco had a shoeshine box and stood in the square, shining shoes. They studied the two, and they were good students. The family of Dona Armenia was respected and admired by everyone for both working. All worked. This was the story that everyone knew. He told me the Faith, as they grew, Mirtes was being observed by someone, a person with much economic power, which now has a special interest for her. This interest began on a day that Mirtes spent by that person on the street and greeted, as he did with everyone. But the way she looked left the busy person. Mirtes was then fourteen. I had a well-developed body and was becoming an admirable woman. Who did not know her think she had about eighteen to twenty years. But would still be fifteen. On that day, the person called and asked him if he knew how to do nails. She said it was their own nails and her mother. But I had never studied for it. The person then told him that was later to his home and sought his wife. She would teach him to do right nails. Thus began the story of Mirtes as manicures and pedicures.

Every day she went to the person ‘s house wife – Did insisted on not name “the miracle I speak, but do not tell the holy name” – which was training the techniques of nail care. The hands and feet. When he arrived, he had someone else to act as his guinea pig. Soon his skills were already recognized and was already a professional. In a case he kept all the material he used for his work and soon spread through the city the news that had nails domicile. The case had been brought to São Paulo by the wife of the person who told him, when asked how he would pay “is a gift for you to start your career” and concluded “I just want to come do my nails every Saturday” . Thus they were combined.

When I asked how she knew Did this story, she told me that the very Mirtes had told him. But most of the story only she knew. And that much was spoken but there was little truth to what others said. “Backbiting, you know how it is,” he said smiling.

Mirtes not long to have a large number of women who have become their customers, to make nails in their homes throughout the week. I spent the whole day through the city from one side to the other, working. I rode the scripts as the schedule that was. I was starting to make some money that had already regain confidence in their future. I thought to help the mother and give a tidy the house.

I was fifteen years old when, on a Saturday afternoon, was in the house of that person, when it started to fall a storm of those raze the world. Both she and the wife of the person, were sitting in the inner porch of the house, making the nails and talking animatedly. On television that was in the room he ran a film that both accompanied by the window overlooking the balcony to the living room. At one point in the movie, two characters kissed. Both women. There was a strange silence on the balcony. The two looked at each other awkwardly. The wife of the person forced a smile and said Mirtes that this was not the appropriate time for a kiss those. Mirtes, in his innocence, said he did not see anything else. That thought did not have the right time to two people kiss. Then the wife of the person asked if she thought the normal two women kissing and Mirtes said yes, he thought, that even thought beautiful. And when the wife of the person asked him if he dared to kiss another woman, Mirtes simply rose from the stool she was sitting on, walked over to where the wife of the person was, bent down and kissed her on the mouth, lightly. It was a quick kiss that left no flavor. Then he returned to his seat and continued to take care of one’s wife’s nails.

According to He did, that kiss was just the beginning of a series of kisses that still followed that day on the porch, in the living room, and finally the master bedroom, where the wife of the person began Mirtes in things sex.

At fifteen she was a virgin. I had a woman’s body, but had never dated. It had only been kissed a few times, for a more audacious boy in Pocrane, who had gone to play football in Mutum, on Sunday. But not kiss had been right. Now known what it was to kiss for real. With tongue in tongue, being held tight by another woman, feeling the body being covered by an avid mouth that kissed it all. I learned what it’s like horny, keep the between the legs on fire, feel a delicious languor when one’s wife’s tongue down her neck. For the first time it was laid bare by someone. And for every piece of clothing that was taken away from her body, more kisses, more hugs, more grips, but the language leaves her giddy.

Mirtes told Faith that just that day, went mad with pleasure, love and passion. As the person was traveling and his wife had stayed home alone, Mirtes decided to stay to sleep in the house of the person, even without telling her mother. I knew she would not mind because would imagine that Mirtes was sheltering from the storm in the home of some of its customers.

That night they made love, she and the wife of the person, even if exhausted. Mirtes never forgot everything that happened that Saturday.

Faith told me that was the person the first man to have Mirtes. And what happened the following Saturday that in which it was initiated by his wife. No trauma, no treason without any problem.

After staying a while silent Faith told me that anything I hear being spoken of Mirtes was actually invention. Especially when they called her a dyke. She was not romp. Nor was a bitch. I had never made love with another woman beyond one’s wife. And I had never given to any man unless that person. They just loved each other. The three loved each other. Anything I hear plus it was the purest and outright lie.

I pretended to be increasingly interested and was leaving the faith more and more talk, the excitement. It was right in the middle of the most lurid facts that faith let out information that made me widen my eyes and ask him to repeat what he had said. She then repeated what he had heard, she said, a city authority, she could not tell who was who were to take place in Mutum some prisons that would leave all surprised and frightened. When I insisted that she enlighten me better, she just told me it was very discreet and, though he could tell me the facts, this time she herself did not know who were the saints. And, smiling, he gave me a good-night kiss on the cheek and left me there, on a park bench, trying to understand what the Faith was talking about.

It was past two in the morning when I left the faith at the door of his house and went back to my grandparents’ house, still thinking about that story that there would be some arrests in the city, that Faith had told me.

(To be continued next week)

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