The Stone Raft

...

The Prime Minister addressed the Portuguese and said, Citizens of Portugal, during recent days and most noticeably during the last twenty-four hours, our country has been subjected to pressures, which without exaggeration I consider unacceptable, from nearly all those European countries that have suffered, as we know, severe disruptions of the public order, but through no fault of ours, with vast numbers of demonstrators pouring into the streets with great enthusiasm, anxious to show their solidarity with the nations and peoples of the peninsula. These developments have exposed the serious internal contradiction in the debates among the governments of Europe, to which we no longer belong. Confronted with the profound social and cultural developments in these countries, they see in this historic adventure on which we find ourselves launched the promise of a happier future or, to put it in a nutshell, the hope of regenerating humanity. But instead of supporting us and showing their true humanity and genuine awareness of European culture, those governments decided to make us the scapegoats for their internal problems, with their absurd demands that we arrest the drifting peninsula, although it would have been more fitting and accurate to speak of navigating. Their attitude is all the more deplorable since everyone knows that with each passing hour we move an additional seven hundred and fifty meters away from what are at present the western shores of Europe, and those very European governments that in the past never showed any desire to have us with them are now trying to force us into doing what they don't really want and, moreover, know is beyond our powers. Unquestionably a place of history and culture, Europe in these troubled times has shown itself in the end to be lacking in common sense. It is up to us as the legitimate and constitutional government, entrusted with preserving the peace of the strong and just, forcefully to reject pressures and interventions of every kind and from any quarter by declaring before the world that we shall allow ourselves to be guided by the national interest alone, or, in a wider context, by the interests of the peoples and nations of the peninsula, and this I here solemnly affirm with the utmost conviction, now that the governments of Portugal and Spain have begun coordinating their efforts, as they will continue to do in order to examine and discuss the measures required to ensure a happy outcome to the chain of events set in motion by the historic separation of the Pyrenees. A word of acknowledgment is due the humanitarian spirit and political realism of the United States of America, thanks to whom reasonable levels of fuel supplies and also of foodstuffs have been maintained, which, within the framework of community relations, we previously imported from Europe. Under normal conditions, such matters would obviously be dealt with through the competent diplomatic channels, but in a situation of such gravity, the government over which I preside has decided to present the situation to the people without delay, thereby expressing its confidence in the dignity of the Portuguese, who will respond, as on other historic occasions, by closing ranks around their legitimate representatives and the sacred symbol of the Fatherland, presenting the world with the image of a united and determined people, at a particularly difficult and delicate moment in the nation's history, Long live Portugal.

The four travelers were already on the outskirts of Oporto when they heard this speech, they had gone into a café that served light refreshments and they lingered there long enough to see television coverage of the mass demonstrations and the counterattacks launched by the police, shivers ran up their spines when they saw those noble youths holding up posters and banners bearing that formidable phrase written in their own language. Why, asked Pedro Orce, should they be so concerned with us, and José Anaiço, echoing unknowingly but more directly the Prime Minister's sentiments, replied, All they're concerned about is themselves, and he probably couldn't have explained any better what he was thinking. They finished eating and left, this time the dog accepted the leftovers Pedro Orce brought him, and, having set Deux Chevaux in motion, now more slowly because the guide can scarcely be seen ahead, Joaquim Sassa said, Before crossing the bridge, let's try to coax the dog into the car, it can travel in the back on Joana and Jose's laps, we can't go around the city as we've been doing so far, and the dog certainly won't want to go on traveling through the night.

The forecast turned out to be correct and Joaquim Sassa's wish was gratified, as soon as it understood what was required of it, the dog got into the car, slow and ponderous, it stretched out on the laps of the passengers in the back seat, rested its head on Joana Carda's forearm, but the dog did not fall asleep, it traveled with its eyes open, the lights of the city danced over them as if over a surface of black crystal. Let's stay at my house, Joaquim Sassa suggested, I've got a wide bed and a sofa that opens out to sleep two people if they're not too fat. One of us, he was referring to the three men, of course, will have to sleep in a chair, but that's no problem, since it's my house, I'll use the chair or spend the night in a boardinghouse nearby. The others made no reply, their respectful silence indicating that they agreed, or perhaps preferred to settle this delicate matter discreetly later on, the atmosphere had suddenly become tense, there was an awkward feeling of embarrassment, almost as if Joaquim Sassa had done it on purpose, and he was perfectly capable of doing such a thing simply to amuse himself. But within minutes Joana Carda spoke up and announced, We two are sticking together. Really, what is the world coming to when women start taking this kind of initiative, in the past there were rules, one always started at the beginning, a few warm, encouraging looks from the man, a subtle lowering of the woman's eyes, a furtive glance darting from under her eyelashes, and then, until that first touching of hands, the courtship proceeded slowly, there were letters, lovers' tiffs, reconciliations, the waving of handkerchiefs, discreet coughs, naturally the final outcome was always the same, in bed with her on her back, him on top of her, in or out of wedlock, but never for a moment this outrageous behavior, this lack of respect in the presence of an old man, and if anyone thinks the women of Andalusia are hot-blooded, they should take a look at this woman from Portugal, no woman has ever dared to say in Pedro Orce's presence, We two are sticking together. But times have changed, and not for the better if Joaquim Sassa was trying to tease them, the conversation had turned sour, unless Pedro Orce had misunderstood, perhaps the words, sticking together, do not mean the same thing in Castilian as in Portuguese. José Anaiço did not open his mouth, what could he say, he would look ridiculous if he were to play the lover, even more so if he were to appear scandalized, best to keep his mouth shut, it does not take much to realize that only Joana Carda could have uttered those compromising words, imagine the bad impression he would have made if he had said those words without first consulting her, and even so, even if he had asked her if she was willing, there are certain attitudes that only a woman can adopt, depending on the circumstances and the moment, that's it, the moment, that precise second poised between two others that would result in confusion and disaster. Joana Carda and José Anaiço rest their clasped hands on the dog's back, Joaquim Sassa furtively watches the lovers through the rearview mirror, they are smiling, the joke has been well received after all. This Joana is quite a girl, Joaquim Sassa feels another twinge of jealousy, but he admits he is to blame because he can never decide whom he should love.

The house is no palace, it has a tiny interior bedroom, and an even tinier living room where there is a sofa bed, a kitchen, a bathroom, clearly a house for someone on his own, but he considers himself fortunate and at least he does not have to keep moving from one furnished room to another. The larder is empty, but they had satisfied their hunger at their last stop before arriving here. They watch television in the hope of catching up on the news, so far there have been no reactions from the European embassies, but just to remind them the Prime Minister has given another interview on the late news program, Citizens of Portugal, he said, the rest we have already heard. Before they went to bed there was a council of war, not that there was any immediate need for decisions, those were left to the dog who was snoozing at Pedro Orce's feet, but they speculated in turn, Perhaps our journey ends here, Joaquim Sassa said hopefully, Or farther north, José Anaiço suggested, thinking of something else, I think it will be further north, added Joana Carda, who was thinking of the same thing, but Pedro Orce was right when he told them, The dog is the only one who knows, whereupon he yawned and said, I feel sleepy.

Now there was no longer any uncertainty as to who would be sleeping with whom, Joaquim Sassa opened out the sofa bed assisted by Pedro Orce, Joana Carda retired discreetly, and José Anaiço lingered for a few minutes longer, embarrassed, as if none of this had anything to do with him, but his heart was thumping in his breast like a drum beating, causing the whole building to shake to its very foundations, although this tremor is quite different from the other one, finally he said, Good night, see you tomorrow, and withdrew. There is no doubt that words never match up to the grandeur of certain moments. The bedroom is next door, the window extends almost to the ceiling, one way of prolonging daylight, and it doesn't even have a curtain, this apparent lack of privacy is understandable, the house is only for one person, and even if Joaquim Sassa were to have such perverted tastes he could scarcely spy on himself, although it has to be said that it would be very interesting as well as revealing, if we could spy on ourselves from time to time, although we might not like what we would see. With these words of caution, we're not trying to insinuate that Joaquim Sassa and Pedro Orce are thinking of playing childish games, such poor taste, but that window, now the mere shadow of a window, barely visible in the darkness of the room, is disturbing, it chills the blood, as if this were all one room, a dormitory, uncomfortably promiscuous, and Joaquim Sassa, lying on his back, prefers not to think, but raises his head from the pillow to create an aura of silence and to be better able to hear, his mouth is dry but he stoically resists the temptation to get up and go into the kitchen to drink some water and eavesdrop on the whispering on the way. As for Pedro Orce, he was so exhausted he fell asleep immediately, his face turned away from the wall, his arm reaching down to rest on the dog's back as it lay on the floor beside him, the trembling of the one is that of the other, their sleep probably one and the same. No sound comes from the bedroom, not even so much as an indecipherable word, not so much as a sigh, a stifled moan, Such silence, Joaquim Sassa thinks to himself, and he finds it strange, but he neither imagines nor is likely ever to suspect or know just how strange, for these things usually remain the secret of those who have experienced them, José Anaiço penetrated Joana Carda and she received him without any other movement, he hard, she most gentle, and there they stayed, their fingers clasped, their lips absorbing kisses in silence, as one mighty wave shakes the innermost fibers of their bodies, noiselessly, right to the very last vibration, to the last imperceptible drop, let us put it discreetly lest anyone accuse us of crudely portraying scenes of coition, an ugly word that has fortunately become obsolete. Tomorrow, when Joaquim Sassa wakes up, he will think that those two had the patience to wait, God knows at what cost, if God knows about these sublimations of the flesh, that they had waited until the other couple next door were asleep, he's deceiving himself, for just as he is about to fall asleep, Joana Carda receives José Anaiçonce more, this time they won't be as quiet as before, certain feats cannot be repeated, The others must be asleep by now, one of them whispered, at last they could abandon themselves to passionate love, their patience rewarded.

Pedro Orce was the first to awaken, through a narrow chink in the window the ashen finger of morning touched his parched lips, then he dreamed that a woman was kissing him, oh how he struggled to make that dream last, but his eyes opened, and his mouth was dry, no mouth had deposited the truth of saliva, its fertile humidity, in his. The dog lifted its head, raised itself on its paws, and gazed steadily at Pedro Orce in the dense shadows of the room, it was impossible to see where the light that shone in its eyes was coming from. Pedro Orce stroked the animal, and it responded by giving his bony hand a lick. Disturbed by the noise, Joaquim Sassa woke up, initially without any idea of his whereabouts, even though he was in his own home, perhaps because he felt strange finding himself in a bed he rarely used, and because there was someone in the room beside him. Lying on his back, with the dog's head lying on his chest, Pedro Orce said, Another day begins, what's going to happen, and Joaquim Sassa thought, Perhaps he's become confused after sleeping, it's not uncommon, people fall asleep and that in itself has changed everything, we are the same as before yet fail to recognize ourselves. In this case they did not appear to have changed. The dog had got to its feet, big, heavy, and had walked to the closed door. One could see its blurred outline, its shadowy form, the gleam in its eyes, The dog's waiting for us, said Joaquim Sassa, you better call him, it's still too early to get up. The dog came when Pedro Orce called and obediently lay down, the men were now conversing in a whisper, Joaquim Sassa was saying, I'm going to take out all the money I have in the bank, it isn't much but I can borrow some more, And what happens when that runs out, Perhaps our little adventure will come to an end before the money does, Who can tell what awaits us, We'll find some means of surviving, even by stealing if we have to, Joaquim Sassa said smiling. But perhaps it won't be necessary to resort to such drastic measures, José Anaiço will also pay a visit to the bank here in Oporto where he has his savings, Pedro Orce has brought all his pesetas, and as for Joana Carda we don't know anything about her financial situation, but to all appearances she is not the type of woman who lives off charity or is kept by some man. It is doubtful whether the four of them will find any work, if work requires permanency, stability, normal residential status, when their immediate destiny is to walk behind a dog who we can only hope knows something about its own destiny, but this is not the age when animals could speak and therefore, as long as they had vocal cords, could say where they wanted to go.

In the next room, the exhausted lovers were asleep in each other's arms, sheer ecstasy but alas short-lived, as one would expect, after all, one's body is this body and not the other, a body has a beginning and an end, it begins and ends with the skin, what's inside belongs to it, but the body needs its rest, independence, autonomy in its functioning, to sleep in each other's arms demands a harmony of tongue and groove that may be disturbed by the sleep of either partner, one of them may awaken with a cramp in her arm, or because there is an elbow sticking into his ribs, whereupon we say in a whisper, with all the tenderness we can muster, Dearest, move over just a little. Joana Carda and José Anaiço are asleep from exhaustion, for during the night they have had sexual intercourse three times, their love affair has only just begun, therefore they respect the golden rule of never refusing the body what the body in its wisdom demands. Making as little noise as possible, Joaquim Sassa and Pedro Orce went out with the dog, they've gone to look for some provisions for breakfast, Joaquim Sassa refers to it as pequeno almoço rather like the French petit déjeuner, Pedro Orce as desayuno in the Spanish, but their mutual hunger will resolve the linguistic differences. By the time they return, Joana Carda and José Anaiço will be out of bed, we can hear them in the bathroom, the shower is running, a blissful pair, and such great walkers, for in a very short time they have come a long way.

When it was time to set out and resume their journey, the four of them started looking at the dog with the perplexed air of someone awaiting orders who is as uncertain of their reliability as of the wisdom of obeying them. Let us hope that in order to get out of Oporto the dog entrusts itself to us as it did when we came in, said Joaquim Sassa, and the others understood the reason for that observation, just imagine if the dog Faithful, faithful to its instinct to head north, were to start taking one-way streets here in the city where north was precisely the direction you couldn't follow, there would be endless trouble with the police, accidents, traffic jams, with the entire population of Oporto turning out to enjoy the fun. But this dog isn't any old sheepdog of suspect or clandestine paternity, its genealogical tree has its roots in hell, which, as we know, is the place where all knowledge ends up, ancient knowledge is already there, modern and future knowledge will pursue the same path. For this reason, and perhaps also because Pedro Orce has repeated the trick of whispering into the dog's ear words that we still have not been able to make out, the dog got into the car as if it were the most natural thing in the world, as if it had always traveled this way, all its life. But, look out, this time the dog hasn't rested its head on Joana Carda's forearm, this time it sits up attentively as Joaquim Sassa drives Deux Chevaux along curves and bends in the road, in every direction, anyone who happened to be there watching would think, They're heading south, but soon he would change his mind and decide, They're going west, or, They're going east, and these are the main or cardinal directions but if we were to mention the entire compass card we would never get out of Oporto or this confusion.

There is an agreement between this dog and these travelers, four rational beings consent to being led by brute instinct, unless they are all being drawn by some magnet located to the north, or being pulled by the other end of a blue thread identical to the one the dog won't let go. They left the city, one knows that despite its curves the road is going in the right direction, the dog gives signs of wanting to get out of the car, they open the door and off it goes, refreshed after a night's rest and the large meal it had been given at the house. The dog goes at a brisk trot, Deux Chevaux cheerfully accompanies it, feels no need to keep a tight rein. The road no longer skirts the sea, it wends inland, and for this very reason we won't see the shore where Joaquim Sassa acquired more strength than Samson at a given moment in his life. Joaquim himself remarked, What a pity the dog decided not to follow the coastline, then I could have shown you where the episode of the stone took place, not even the Samson mentioned in the Bible could have done what I did, but out of modesty he would say no more. What was and continues to be a much greater feat was that of Joana Carda there in the fields of Ereira, and even more enigmatic is the tremor felt by Pedro Orce, and if our guide here on earth is a dog from the underworld, what shall we say of the thousands of starlings that accompanied José Anaiço for so long and only abandoned him when it was time to take flight once more.

The road slopes upward, descends, then starts rising again, and goes on rising, and whenever it goes down, it is only to take a short pause, these mountains are not all that high, but they affect Deux Chevaux's heart, causing it to struggle for breath on the slopes while the dog travels on at a nimble pace. They stopped to have lunch at a snack bar at the roadside, once more the dog disappeared in search of its own food and when it returned there was blood on its mouth, but we already know why, there's no mystery, if no one is around to fill the bowl, a dog has to make do with what it can find. Back on the road, they kept heading north, at one point José Anaiço quipped, If we carry on like this we'll find ourselves in Spain, in your native country. My native land is Andalusia, Country and land are one and the same thing, No they're not, we may not know our country but we always know our own land, Have you ever been to Galicia, No, I've never been to Galicia, Galicia is the land of others.

Whether they will get there remains to be seen, because they will spend the night in Portugal. José Anaiço and Joana Carda signed the hotel register as man and wife, in order to economize Pedro Orce and Joaquim Sassa shared a room, and the dog had to sleep with Deux Chevaux, the huge beast terrified the landlady, I don't want a monster like that in my hotel, it can sleep outdoors where dogs belong, the last thing I need is to have the place infested with fleas, The dog hasn't got any fleas, Joana Carda protested to no avail, for that wasn't the main point. In the middle of the night Pedro Orce got out of bed, hoping to find that the front door wasn't locked, as indeed it wasn't, so he went to sleep for a couple of hours in the car with the dog in his arms, when one has no one to love, in this case for obvious impediments of nature, friendship is the next best thing. It seemed to Pedro Orce as he got into the car that the dog was whimpering, but he must have been hallucinating, as we often do when we dearly want something, our wise body takes pity on us, simulates within itself the satisfaction of our desires, this is what dreaming means, what do you think, If it weren't so, tell me how we could ever bear this intolerable life, comes the commentary from the unknown voice that intervenes from time to time.

When Pedro Orce returned to the bedroom, the dog followed him, but when told not to enter, it lay down in the doorway and there it remained. There are no words to describe the terror and outcry at first light of day, when the landlady arrived early to begin her daily chores, she opens the shutters to the freshness of the dawn, and lo and behold, here on the doormat the Nemean lion springs to its feet with bared fangs, it was simply the yawn of a dog that hadn't had enough sleep, but even yawns should be treated with caution when they expose such formidable teeth and a tongue so red that it appears to be bleeding. Such was the uproar that the guests' departure had all the appearance of expulsion rather than peaceful withdrawal, Deux Chevaux was already at some distance, almost turning the corner, and the landlady was still on the doorstep yelling at the silent beast, for these are the worst beasts of all if one is to believe the proverb that says, Dogs that bark don't bite, it's true that this one hasn't bitten yet, but if those powerful jaws are in direct proportion to its silence, God protect us from the beast. Once on their way, the travelers laugh at the episode, Joana Carda, out of feminine solidarity, didn't find it amusing, Had I been in that woman's position, I'd also have been terrified, and you needn't think you're all such heroes, let alone feel obliged to show how brave you are, her words made a deep impression, each man quietly pondered his own cowardice, the most interesting case was that of José Anaiço, who decided he would confess his fear to Joana Carda at the first possible opportunity, for real love means keeping no secrets from one's beloved, the worst comes later when the romance is over and the lover who has confided his secrets regrets having spoken while the beloved abuses his confidence, it's up to Joana Carda and José Anaiço to arrange their affairs so as to keep anything like this from happening.

The frontier isn't far away. By now accustomed to the scouting talents of their guide, the travelers have not even noticed the speedy manner, without a moment's hesitation or pause for thought, with which Faithful or Pilot, he'll have to be given some name or other one day, chooses the right fork in the road he must follow, and to make things even more difficult, this is not simply a fork but a crossroads. Even if this cunning animal has covered this same route from north to south, and of this no one can be sure, the experience will not be of much help, if we bear in mind the difference in the point of view, on which, as we are fortunately aware, everything depends. It is all too true that people live alongside things wondrous and pro digious, but they do not fathom even half of these marvels, they nearly always deceive themselves about the half they know, mainly because they desire with all their might, like our Lord God, that this and other worlds should be made in their own image and likeness, not that it matters who created them. This dog is guided by instinct, but we have no way of telling what or who guides instinct, and if we should ever be able to start explaining the strange episode narrated here, in all probability any such explanation would be no more than the semblance of an explanation, unless from that explanation we can derive another and then another, until there comes a moment when there would be nothing left with which to explain the primary source of the things explained, presumably beyond that there is nothing but chaos, but we are not speaking about the formation of the universe, we do know that much, we are only discussing dogs.

And people. These people who are following a dog and heading for the frontier just ahead. They are about to leave Portuguese territory, at sunset, and suddenly, perhaps because of the approaching twilight, they realize that the animal has disappeared, and they suddenly feel like children lost in the forest, Now what are we going to do, Joaquim Sassa seizes the opportunity to express his disdain for canine loyalty, but Pedro Orce's serene judgment, based on his experience of life, prevailed. The dog has probably swum across the river to wait for us on the opposite side, if these people had really paid attention to the ties and bonds that link existence and alchemy they would have realized it at once, we are referring to José Anaiço and Joaquim Sassa, for the dog's motives may be the same as those of a thousand starlings, if Faithful came from the north and passed this way, perhaps he may not wish to repeat the experience, without collar or muzzle, he could be suspected of having rabies and might even find himself being peppered with bullets.

The customs officers examine their papers distractedly, wave them on, it is obvious that these officials are not exactly overworked, as we have seen, people do a great deal of traveling, but for the moment it is more within national frontiers, they seem to be afraid of straying from their home in the wider sense, namely their native land, even if they have abandoned the family home where they have lived their humdrum lives. On the other side of the Minho there is the same boredom, all one detects is a glimmer of detached curiosity as the officials watch these Portuguese arrive with a Spaniard of another generation, were this a period of greater traffic to and fro they wouldn't even be noticed. Joaquim Sassa drove for a kilometer, drew Deux Chevaux over to the side of the road and came to a halt, Let's wait here, if the dog, as Pedro claims, knows what it is doing, it will come to look for us. They didn't even have time to become impatient. After ten minutes, the dog appeared in front of the car, its coat still damp. Pedro Orce had been right, and if we hadn't been quite so skeptical, we would have waited on the riverbank to witness the dog's heroic crossing, which we could then have described with relish, instead of this banal crossing of frontiers with guards whose only difference is their uniforms, Carry on, You may pass, this summed up the episode, even the glimmer of curiosity was no more than a feeble invention to fill out the narrative.

Further and somewhat better inventions would now be in order, to enhance what remains of the journey, with two nights and two days in between, the former spent in rural lodging houses, the latter on old roads that once went north, always toward the north, the land of Galicia and mist, with light showers announcing the arrival of autumn, this is all one feels like saying and no invention was needed. The rest would be the nocturnal embraces of Joana Carda and José Anaiço, the intermittent insomnia of Joaquim Sassa, Pedro Orce's hand resting on the dog's back, for here the dog was allowed inside the bedrooms to spend the night. And the days on the road, heading right toward a horizon that seemed to move farther and farther away. For the second time, Joaquim Sassa said that this was utter madness, trailing after a stupid dog to the ends of the earth without knowing why or for what purpose, to which Pedro Orce replied abruptly, betraying his annoyance, Scarcely to the ends of the earth, we'll reach the sea before then. The dog is clearly beginning to tire, its head is drooping, its tail has dropped, and the pads on its paws, despite their hard skin, must be hurting by now after all that rubbing against soil and gravel, that same night Pedro Orce will examine them and find open sores bleeding, no wonder he responded so sharply to Joaquim Sassa, who looks on and says, as if trying to excuse himself, Some compresses with hydrogen peroxide should do them good, it's rather like teaching your grandmother how to suck eggs, Pedro Orce is familiar with all the skills of pharmacy, he doesn't need any advice from Joaquim Sassa. Nevertheless, this conciliatory gesture was enough to restore the peace.

In the vicinity of Santiago de Compostela the dog veered in a northeasterly direction. It must be nearing its destination, this could be seen from the renewed vigor with which it was now trotting along, from its firm gait, the way it held its head, its bristling tail. Joaquim Sassa was forced to accelerate a little so that Deux Chevaux could keep up with the dog, and they got so close that they were almost touching the animal. Joana Carda exclaimed, Look, look at the blue thread. They all turned around. The thread didn't look the same. The other one had become so dirty that it could have been either blue or black, but this one was as blue as blue could be, and quite unlike the blue of the sky or the sea, who could have dyed and combed it, or who could have washed it, if it was the same thread, and put it back into the dog's mouth with the words, Off you go. The road has become narrow, it's almost like a footpath skirting the hills. The sun is about to set over the sea, which still cannot be seen from here, nature is masterly when it comes to composing spectacles attuned to human circumstances, this morning and all afternoon the sky had been overcast and somber as it sprinkled the land with Galician drizzle, and now the countryside is bathed in a coppery light, the dog glows like a jewel, an animal made of gold. Even Deux Chevaux no longer looks the worse for wear and the passengers inside are suddenly transformed, the light is shining on them and they go forth like the beatified. José Anaiço observes Joana Carda and shudders at the sight of such beauty, Joaquim Sassa lowers the rearview mirror in order to gaze into his own sparkling eyes, and Pedro Orce contemplates his wrinkled hands, they are no longer wrinkled, no, they've been restored by alchemy, they've become immortal, even if the rest of his body should die.

Suddenly, the dog stops. The sun is level with the summit of the mountains, the sea can be glimpsed on the other side. The road goes winding down, two hills appear to cut it off down below, but this is an optical illusion due to distance. In front, halfway down the slope, there is a large house, an austere building with an air of neglect, very old, despite signs that the surrounding fields are being farmed. Part of the house is already in the shade, the light is waning, the whole world appears to be sinking into inertia and solitude. Joaquim Sassa brought the car to a halt. They all got out. The silence can be heard vibrating like one last echo, perhaps it is only the distant thrashing of the waves against the rocks, that is always the best explanation, the interminable memory of the waves echoes even inside the shells, but this is not the case, what can be heard here is silence, no one should die before experiencing it, silence, have you heard it, now you may go, you know what it sounds like. But that hour still has not arrived for any of these four. They know that their destination is that house, this amazing dog has brought them here, mute as a statue, waiting. José Anaiço is at Joana Carda's side but he does not touch her, he knows that he must not touch her, she knows it too, these are moments when even love must resign itself to its own insignificance, forgive us for reducing the greatest of affections to almost nothing, that affection that on other occasions can be almost everything. Pedro Orce was the last to get out of the car, he puts his feet on the ground and feels the earth vibrating with terrifying force, here every seismograph needle would snap, and these hills appear to sway with the movement of the waves that surge one upon the other in the sea beyond, pushed by this stone raft, throwing themselves against it with the reflux of the powerful currents we are cutting through.

The sun has disappeared. Then the blue thread fluttered in the air, almost invisible in its transparency, searching for some support, grazing hands and faces, Joaquim Sassa held it, was this a coincidence or destiny, let us leave these hypotheses aside, even though there are a number of reasons for not giving credence either to the one or to the other, and now what will Joaquim Sassa do, he cannot travel in the car, with one hand outside holding and accompanying the thread, for a thread at the mercy of the wind does not necessarily follow the line of the road. What should I do with this, he asked, but while the others could not give him an answer the dog could, it left the road and began to descend the gentle slope, Joaquim Sassa followed it, his raised hand followed the blue thread as if it were stroking the wings or the breast of a bird above his head. José Anaiço went back to the car with Joana Carda and Pedro Orce, put it into gear, and, keeping a watchful eye on Joaquim Sassa, began slowly going down the road, he did not want to arrive before him, or for that matter much after him, the potential harmony of things depends on their equilibrium and the time when they occur, not too soon, not too late, which explains why it is so difficult for us to attain perfection.

When they stopped in the square in front of the house, Joaquim Sassa was ten paces from the door, which was ajar. The dog gave a sigh that seemed almost human and lay down, stretching its neck over its paws. It dislodged the thread from its mouth with its paws and let it fall to the ground. A woman emerged from the dark interior of the house, she had a thread in her hand, the same as the one Joaquim Sassa was still holding. She stepped down from the last step at the front door and said, Come in, you must be tired. Joaquim Sassa was the first to move, his end of the blue thread tied round his wrist.