The Collected Novels of José Saramago

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Your things are here, said Marta, there wasn't very much, it all fitted easily into the smallest suitcase, anyone would think you knew you were going to be here for only three weeks, There comes a time in life when it should be enough simply to be able to carry one's own body on one's back, said Cipriano Algor, Fine words, but what I want to know is what you're going to live on, Consider the lilies of the field, they toil not, neither do they spin, More fine words, but that's why they never got to be anything else but lilies, You're a rabid skeptic, a disgusting cynic, Pa, please, I'm serious, Sorry, Look, I know it's been a shock for you, as it was for me, and I wasn't even there, I understand that those men and those women are far more than just dead people, Don't go on, it's precisely because they are far more than just dead people that I don't want to continue living here, And what about us, what about me, asked Marta, You must decide for yourselves what to do with your lives, as for me, I've already made my decision, and I'm not going to spend the rest of my days tied to a stone bench, staring at a wall, But how will you live, Well, I've got the money they paid for the figurines, that will last me a month or two, then I'll see, Yes, but I wasn't talking about money, one way or another you'll have enough to feed and clothe yourself, what I mean is that you'll have to live on your own, I've got Found, and you'll come and visit me now and then, Pa, What, What about Isaura, What's Isaura got to do with this, You told me that the situation between you had changed, you didn't say how or why, but that's what you said, And it's true, So, So what, Well, you could live together. Cipriano Algor did not reply. He picked up his suitcase, I'll be off then, he said. His daughter embraced him, We'll come and see you on Marçal's next day off, but stay in touch, phone me when you get there to tell me how the house is, and Found, don't forget about Found. With one foot out of the door, Cipriano Algor said, Give Marçal a hug from me, You already gave him a hug, you've already said your good-byes, Yes, but give him another hug. When he reached the end of the corridor, he turned. His daughter was standing there at the door, she waved with one hand, at the same time covering her mouth with the other to keep herself from crying. See you soon, he said, but she didn't hear him. The service elevator took him down to the garage, now he just had to find where the van was parked and see if it would start after three weeks without moving, sometimes the batteries die. That's all I need, he thought anxiously. But his fears did not materialize, the van fulfilled its obligations. True, it did not start the first or the second time, but the third time it roared into action with a noise worthy of another engine entirely. Minutes later, Cipriano Algor was driving down the avenue, he didn't exactly have the open road before him, but things could have been worse, despite its slowness, it was the traffic itself that was actually carrying him along. He wasn't surprised that the traffic was so heavy, cars love Sundays and for the owner of a car it is almost impossible to resist the so-called psychological pressure, the car just has to be there, it doesn't need to speak. At last, he left the city behind him, along with the suburbs, soon the shantytowns will appear, will they have reached the road in those three weeks, no, they still have another thirty or so meters to go, and then there's the Industrial Belt, almost at a standstill, apart from a few factories that seem to have made a religion out of continuous production, and now the grim Green Belt, the dismal, grubby, gray hothouses, that's why the strawberries are losing their color, it won't be long before they are as white outside as they are beginning to be inside, which is why they taste like something that tastes of nothing. On our left, in the distance, where you can see those trees, that's right, the ones clumped together like a bouquet, there is an important archaeological site yet to explore, I have it from a reliable source, it's not every day that you're lucky enough to get such information straight from the maker's mouth. Cipriano Algor wondered how he could possibly have let himself be shut up inside for three weeks without being able to see the sun or the stars, except by dint of craning his neck at the sealed window of a thirty-fourth-floor flat, when he had this river, smelly and shrunken it's true, this bridge, old and dilapidated it's true, and these ruins that were once people's houses, and the village where he had been born, grown up and worked, with its street down the middle and the square off to one side, those people there, that man and that woman, are Marçal's parents, this is the first time we have seen them in this whole long story, looking at them now no one would ever think that they were as black as they've been painted, even though they have given more than enough proof that they are, this is the dangerous thing about appearances, when they deceive us, it's always for the worse. Cipriano Algor stuck his arm out of the window and waved to them as if they were his best friends, it would have been better if he hadn't really, now they will probably think he was making fun of them, and he wasn't, that wasn't his intention at all, it's just that Cipriano Algor is happy, in three minutes' time, he will see Isaura and have Found in his arms, or, rather, have Isaura in his arms and Found leaping up at them, waiting for them both to give him some attention. He passed the square, and suddenly, without warning, Cipriano Algor's heart contracted, he knows from experience, they both do, that no amount of sweetness today can diminish the bitterness of tomorrow, that the water of this fountain will never be able to slake your thirst in that desert, I don't have a job, I don't have a job, he murmured, and that was the answer he should have given, with no frills and no subterfuges, when Marta asked him what he was going to live on, I don't have a job. On this same road, at this same place, as he had on the day when he came back from the Center with the news that they would not be buying any more crockery from him, Cipriano Algor slowed the van. He wanted both not to arrive and to have arrived already, and between one thing and another there he was at the corner of the street where Isaura Madruga lives, it's that house over there, suddenly the van was in a terrible hurry, suddenly it stopped, suddenly Cipriano Algor burst out of it, suddenly he went up the steps, suddenly he rang the bell. He rang once, twice, three times. No one came to open the door, no one called out from inside, Isaura did not appear, Found did not bark, the desert that had been due tomorrow had arrived early. They should both be here, it's Sunday, there's no work, he thought. Disconcerted, he went back to the van and sat with his arms folded on the wheel, the normal thing would be to go and ask the neighbors, but he had never liked other people knowing about his life, indeed, when we ask about someone else, we are saying much more about ourselves than we might imagine, luckily for us, most people when questioned don't have their ears trained to pick up what lies hidden behind such innocent words as these, Have you by any chance seen Isaura Madruga. Two minutes later, after further consideration, he recognized that sitting parked and waiting outside the house must have looked just as suspicious as if he had gone nonchalantly over to ask the first neighbor if she had happened to notice Isaura going out. I'll go for a drive around, he thought, I might come across them. The drive around the village proved fruitless, Isaura and Found appeared to have vanished from the face of the earth. Cipriano Algor decided to go home, he would try again later that afternoon, They must have gone somewhere, he thought. The van's engine sang the homecoming song, the driver could already see the highest branches of the mulberry tree, and suddenly, like a black flash, Found appeared at the top and came running and barking down the hill like a mad thing, Cipriano Algor's heart was a beat away from stopping, not because of the dog, however much he loves the creature, he wouldn't go that far, but because he realized that Found would not be alone, and that, if he wasn't alone, only one person in the world could possibly be with him. He opened the van door, the dog leaped up at him, into his arms, so he was, after all, the first to be embraced, licking his face and blocking his view of the path, at the top of which appears an astonished Isaura Madruga, stop everything now, please, don't anyone speak, don't anyone move, don't anyone interfere, this is the really moving bit, the van driving up the hill, the woman who took two steps and then could go no farther, see how she has her hands pressed to her breast, see Cipriano Algor who climbed out of the van as if stepping into a dream, see Found, who follows behind, getting caught up in his master's legs, although nothing bad will happen, that's all we need, having one of the principal characters stumble inaesthetically at the culminating moment, this embrace and this kiss, these kisses and these embraces, how often must we remind you that this same devouring love is begging to be devoured, it was always thus, always, we just notice it more at some times than at others. In an interval between two kisses, Cipriano Algor asked, What are you doing here, but Isaura did not answer at once, there were other kisses to give and to receive, as urgent as the very first kiss, then she found enough breath to say, Found ran away on the day you left, he dug a hole under the garden hedge and came here, and I couldn't get him to leave, he was determined to wait for you until who knows when, so I thought it best to leave him here and to bring him food and water and keep him company sometimes, not that I think he needed it. Cipriano Algor felt in his pockets for the key to the house, while he was still thinking and imagining, Let's both go in, let's go in together, and he actually had the key in his hand when he saw that the door was open, which is how doors should be when someone arrives back after a long journey, he didn't need to ask why, Isaura explained calmly, Marta left me a key so that I could come and air the house occasionally, get rid of the dust, and so, what with Found being here, I started coming every day, in the morning, before going to the shop, and in the afternoon, when I finished work. She seemed to have something else to add, but her lips closed firmly as if to bolt the door on those words, You will not come out, they ordered, the words, however, regrouped, joined forces, and all that modesty could do was to make Isaura bow her head and lower her voice to a murmur, One night, I slept in your bed, she said. Now let us make something quite clear, this man is a potter and therefore a manual laborer, with no elevated intellectual and artistic training apart from that required to carry out his profession, a man of more than mature years, brought up in an age when it was normal for people to repress their individual feelings and, indeed, other people's feelings too, to damp down any expressions of emotion or any bodily desires, and although it is true that not many in his social and cultural milieu could best him when it came to sensitivity and intelligence, however energetically he might be striding toward the house where this equivocal act took place, hearing suddenly like that, from the mouth of a woman with whom he had never lain in intimacy, that she had slept in his bed, would be sure to stop him in his tracks, to make him stare in amazement at this bold creature, men, let us confess at once, will never understand women, fortunately, though without quite knowing how, this man managed to discover in the midst of his confusion the exact words that the occasion called for, And you will never sleep in any other. This phrase was just as it should be, the whole effect would have been lost had he said, for example, like someone putting their signature to a mutually advantageous agreement, Right, then, since you've slept in my bed, I'll go and sleep in yours. Isaura had embraced Cipriano Algor again after what he had said, and it is not hard to imagine the enthusiasm with which she did so, but he had a sudden thought in which his feelings of passion apparently had no part, I forgot to take my suitcase out of the van, was what he said. Not foreseeing the consequences of this prosaic act, with Found bounding at his heels, he opened the van door and took out the suitcase. He had the first inkling of what was going to happen when he went into the kitchen, the second when he went into his bedroom, but he was only absolutely certain when Isaura, in a voice that struggled to remain steady, asked him, Have you come back for good. The suitcase was on the floor, waiting for someone to open it, but that operation, though necessary, can be left until later. Cipriano Algor closed the door. There are such moments in life, when, in order for heaven to open, it is necessary for a door to close. Half an hour later, at peace now, like a beach from which the tide is retreating, Cipriano Algor told her what had happened at the Center, the discovery of the cave, the imposition of secrecy, the increased security, his visit to the excavation site, the blackness inside, the fear, the dead people tied to the stone bench, the ashes of the bonfire. At first, when she had seen him coming up the hill in the van, Isaura had thought that Cipriano was coming home because he had been unable to stand the separation and absence any longer, and that idea, as you can imagine, warmed her yearning lover's heart, but now, with her head resting in the hollow of his arm, feeling his hand on her waist, the two reasons seem to her equally right, and besides, if we take the trouble to observe that in at least one respect, that of unbearability, both reasons touch and become one, there is clearly no evidence that the two reasons are in fact mutually contradictory. Isaura Madruga is not particularly well-versed in ancient stories and mythological inventions, but it took only three simple words for her to grasp the essence. Although we already know what those words are, we lose nothing by writing them down again, They were us.

That afternoon, as agreed, Cipriano Algor phoned Marta to tell her that he had arrived safely, that the house looked as if they had left it only yesterday, that Found was almost mad with joy, and that Isaura sent her love. Where are you speaking from, asked Marta, From home, of course, And Isaura, She's here beside me, do you want to talk to her, Yes, but first tell me what's going on, What do you mean, I mean the fact that Isaura is there, Don't you like the idea, Don't be silly and stop beating about the bush, answer my question, All right, Isaura is staying with me, And who are you staying with, We're staying with each other, if that's what you want to hear. There was a silence at the other end. Then Marta said, I'm really pleased, Well, I'd never know it from your voice, My tone of voice has nothing to do with those particular words, but with others, What words are those, Tomorrow, the future, We'll have time to think about the future, Don't pretend, don't close your eyes to reality, you know perfectly well that the present is over for us, You're both all right, and we'll sort ourselves out here, No, I'm not all right and neither is Marçal, Why, If there's no future there, there's certainly none here, Can you explain yourself more clearly, please, Look, I have a child growing inside me, if, when he's old enough to make his own decisions, he should choose to live in a place like this, he will be doing what he wants, but I won't give birth to him here, You should have thought of that before, It's never too late to correct a mistake, even when you can do nothing about the consequences, although we might still be able to do something about those too, How, First, Marçal and I need to have a long talk, then we'll see, Think carefully and don't rush into anything, A mistake can just as easily be the consequence of careful thought, Pa, besides, as far as I know, nowhere is it written that rushing into things necessarily has bad results, Well, I hope you're never disappointed, Oh, I'm not that ambitious, I just don't want to be disappointed this time, and now, if you don't mind, that's the end of the father-daughter dialogue, call Isaura for me, I've got lots of things to say to her. Cipriano Algor passed the telephone over and went outside. There stands the pottery in which a solitary lump of clay lies drying, there is the kiln in which the three hundred figurines are asking each other why the devil they were ever made, there is the firewood that will wait in vain to be carried to the furnace. And Marta saying, If there's no future here, there's none there either. Cipriano Algor knew happiness today, the open sky of a love which, once declared, was consum mated, and now yet again the storm clouds are gathering, the malign shadows of doubt and fear, it's obvious that, even if they pull in their belts to the very last notch, what the Center paid him for the figurines will last for two months at most, and that the difference between what the shop assistant Isaura Madruga earns and zero must be very nearly another zero. And what then, he asked, looking at the mulberry tree, who replied, Then, my old friend, the future, as always.

Four days later, Marta phoned again, We'll be there tomorrow evening. Cipriano Algor made a few rapid calculations, But it can't be Marçal's day off yet, No, it isn't, So, Keep your questions for when we arrive, Do you want me to come and pick you up, No, don't bother, we'll take a taxi. Cipriano Algor told Isaura that he found the visit odd, Unless, he added, the roster for rest days has been upset by some bureacratic confusion caused by the discovery of the cave, but in that case she would have said so and not told me to keep my questions for when they arrive, A day passes quickly enough, said Isaura, we'll find out tomorrow. However, the day did not pass as quickly as Isaura thought. Twenty-four hours spent thinking are a lot of hours, twenty-four hours we say because sleep is not everything, at night, there are probably other thoughts in our head that draw a curtain and continue thinking unbeknownst to anyone. Cipriano Algor had not forgotten Marta's categorical words about her unborn child, I won't give birth to him here, an absolutely explicit statement, unequivocal, not one of those conglomerations of more or less organized vocal noises that seem to be doubting themselves even as they affirm. Logically speaking, there could be only one possible conclusion to draw, Marta and Marçal were going to leave the Center. If they do, they'll be making a great mistake, said Cipriano Algor, what are they going to live on afterward, You could ask the same of us, said Isaura, but do I look worried, You believe in a divine providence that watches over the helpless, No, I don't, I just happen to think that there are times in our lives when we have to let ourselves be carried along by the current of events, as if we didn't have the strength to resist, but then there comes a point when we suddenly realize that the river is flowing in our favor, no one else has noticed, but we have, anyone watching will think we're about to go under, and yet our navigational skills have never been better, Let's just hope that this is one such occasion. He would soon find out. Marta and Marçal got out of the taxi, took some packages out of the trunk, fewer than they had taken with them to the Center, Found gave vent to his excitement by running wildly twice around the mulberry tree, and when the taxi drove down the hill to go back to the city, Marçal said, I am no longer an employee of the Center, I've resigned from my job as security guard. Cipriano Algor and Isaura did not feel they needed to look surprised, which would, anyway, have rung entirely false, but they felt obliged to ask at least one question, one of those useless questions we seem unable to live without, Are you sure you've acted for the best, and Marçal replied, I don't know if it was for the best or for the worst, I just did what I had to do, and I wasn't the only one, two of my colleagues resigned as well, one external guard and one resident, And how did the Center react, If you don't adapt you're no use to them, and I had stopped adapting, the last two phrases were spoken after supper, And when did you feel that you had stopped adapting, asked Cipriano Algor, The cave was the last straw for me, as it was for you, And for those two colleagues of yours, Yes, for them too. Isaura had got up and started clearing the table, but Marta said, Leave it for now, we'll do it together later on, we need to decide what we're going to do, Well, Isaura, said Cipriano Algor, is of the opinion that we should let ourselves be carried along on the current of events, that there always comes a time when we realize that the river is flowing in our favor, I didn't say always, said Isaura, I said sometimes, but take no notice of me, it's just an idea I had, It's good enough for me, said Marta, besides it fits in very well with what's actually been happening to us, What shall we do, then, asked her father, Marçal and I are going to start a new life a long way from here, that much we've decided, the Center is finished, the pottery was already finished, from one hour to the next we've become like strangers in this world, And what about us, asked Cipriano Algor, You can't expect me to advise you on what you should do, Do I understand you to be saying that we should go our separate ways, No, not at all, I'm just saying that our reasons may not necessarily be your reasons, May I say something, suggest something, asked Isaura, I don't honestly know if I have the right, I've only been a member of this family for about six days and I feel as if I was still on probation, as if I had slipped in through the back door, You've been here for months already, ever since the famous water-jug incident, said Marta, as for the rest of what you said I think it's up to my father to respond, All I heard was that she had something to say, a suggestion, so any comments I might make at the moment would be completely out of place, said Cipriano Algor, What's this idea of yours, then, asked Marta, It has to do with that fantasy of mine about the current sweeping us along, said Isaura, Go on, It's the simplest thing in the world, Ah, I know what it is, said Cipriano Algor, What is it then, asked Isaura, That we go with them, Exactly. Marta took a deep breath, You can always rely on a woman to come up with a good idea, We shouldn't rush things, though, said Cipriano Algor, What do you mean, asked Isaura, You've got your house, your job, So, Well, just leaving like that, turning your back on everything, But I'd already left everything anyway, I'd already turned my back on everything when I clasped that water jug to my chest, you'd have to be a man to fail to realize that it was you I was clasping to me, these last words were almost lost in a sudden irruption of sobs and tears. Cipriano Algor shyly reached out and touched her arm, and she could not help but cry all the more, or perhaps she needed that to happen, sometimes the tears we have cried before are not enough, we have to say to them, please, go on.

The preparations took up the whole of the following day. First from one house, then from the other, Marta and Isaura selected what they thought was necessary for a journey that had no known destination and which no one knew how or where it would end. The two men loaded the van, helped by encouraging barks from Found, not in the slightest bit worried today about what was, quite clearly, another move, because the idea never even entered his doggy head that they might be about to abandon him again. The morning of their departure dawned beneath a graying sky, it had rained in the night, here and there in the yard there were small puddles of water, and the mulberry tree, forever bound to the earth, was still dripping. Shall we go, asked Marçal, Yes, let's go, said Marta. They climbed into the van, the two men in front and the two women behind, with Found in the middle, and just as Marçal was about to start the engine, Cipriano Algor said abruptly, Wait. He got out of the van and went over to the kiln, Where's he going, asked Marta, What's he going to do, murmured Isaura. The kiln door was open, Cipriano Algor went in. When he emerged shortly afterward, he was in his shirtsleeves and was using his jacket to carry something heavy, a few figurines, it couldn't be anything else, He probably wants to take some with him as a souvenir, said Marçal, but he was wrong, Cipriano Algor went over to the door of the house and started arranging the figurines on the ground, placing them firmly in the damp earth, and when he had put them all in their positions, he went back to the kiln, by then, the other travelers had got out of the van too, no one asked any questions, one by one they went into the kiln as well and brought out the figurines, Isaura ran to the van to fetch a basket, a sack, anything, and the area in front of the house gradually filled up with figurines, then Cipriano Algor went into the pottery and very carefully removed from the shelves the defective figurines gathered there and reunited them with their sound and perfect siblings, the rain would eventually turn them into mud, and then into dust when the sun dried the mud, but that is a fate we all will meet, now the figurines are not just guarding the front of the house, they are defending the entrance to the pottery too, in the end, there will be more than three hundred figurines, eyes front, clowns, jesters, Eskimos, mandarins, nurses, bearded Assyrians, Found has not yet knocked over a single one, Found is a very conscientious, sensitive dog, almost human, he does not need anyone to explain to him what is going on. Cipriano Algor went and shut the kiln door, then he said, Right, now we can go. The engine started and the van went down the hill. When they got to the road, it turned left. Marta, though dry-eyed, was sobbing, Isaura had her arms about her, while Found lay curled up in one corner of the seat, not knowing who to comfort first. After a few kilometers, Marçal said, I'll write to my parents when we stop for lunch. And then, addressing Isaura and his father-in-law, There was a poster, one of those really big ones outside the Center, can you guess what it said, he asked. We've no idea, they replied, and, as if he were reciting something, Marçal said COMING SOON, PUBLIC OPENING OF PLATO'S CAVE, AN EXCLUSIVE ATTRACTION, UNIQUE IN THE WORLD, BUY YOUR TICKET NOW.