Early the next morning, they set off for the nearest road, a good league from where they were working, praying to the celestial powers who rule over such things that the bus would come along with a few empty seats, and when it appeared, they saw that it had, with practice you can tell these things at once, from a quick head-count and from the driver’s oddly obliging air. This is the bus that goes to Vendas Novas, and only the Geraldo family and Maria Adelaide get on, the others from Monte Lavre have decided not to go, preferring to err on the side of caution or unwilling to commit themselves, or perhaps it’s that they need the money even more than their colleagues do. Those heading for other destinations remain by the side of the road, what happened to them, what fate, good or bad, awaited them, we will never know. There is little traffic, and so the journey passes quickly, and their more urgent anxieties are dissipated right there and then, for driver, conductor and passengers are all of one mind, the government has been overthrown, no more Tomás and no more Marcelo, but who’s in charge now, on that point the general harmony founders, nobody quite knows, someone mentions a junta but others weren’t so sure, what’s a junta, what kind of a name is junta for a government, there must be some mistake. The bus drives into Vendas Novas, and given the number of people in the street, you’d think it was a public holiday, the horn has to really open its lungs to make its way down the narrow street, and when we finally reach the main square, seeing the troops there with their martial air is enough to give a person goosepimples all over, and Maria Adelaide, who is young and has the dreams appropriate to someone of her age and condition, feels as if her legs had been cut from under her as she gazes out the window at the soldiers outside the barracks, at the cannons decorated with sprigs of eucalyptus, and the Geraldo family are saying to her, Aren’t you coming, it’s as if she had lived her entire life with her eyes closed and has only now opened them, first she has to understand the nature of light, and these are things that take much longer to explain than to feel, the proof being that when she reaches Monte Lavre and embraces her father, she will discover that she knows everything about his life, even though those things had only ever been spoken of obliquely, Where’s Pa gone, Oh, he had some business to deal with some way away, he won’t be back tonight, and when he did come home, there was no point asking him what that business was, first because daughters don’t interrogate their fathers, and second because when mysteries belong in the outside world, it’s best to leave them there. The narrator would like to recount events as they happened, but he can’t, for example, just a moment ago, Maria Adelaide was sitting glued to her seat on the bus, apparently feeling quite faint, and suddenly here she is standing in the square, having been the first to get off the bus, well, that’s youth for you. And although she is with the Geraldo family, she doesn’t live under their wing, she is free to cross the road and take a closer look at the soldiers and wave to them, and the soldiers see her, struggle briefly with the awkwardness of being men trained to respond with weapons and possibly answer for that response, then, having won that battle and thrown discipline to the winds, wave back, well, it isn’t every day you see such a pair of blue eyes.
Meanwhile, Geraldo Senior had found some transport to take them to Monte Lavre, a normally difficult enterprise, but today, ah, if only it was always like this, everyone is our friend, it’s only a small truck and a bit of a squeeze, but we can cope with a little discomfort, these people are accustomed to sleeping on a board, with a plow handle for a pillow, the driver will charge them only the price of the gas, if that, At least let us buy you a drink, All right, but only because I don’t want to be rude, and no one is surprised when Maria Adelaide bursts into tears, she will weep tonight as well when she hears a voice say over the radio, Viva Portugal, either then, or perhaps it was yesterday, when they first heard the news, or when she crossed the street to take a closer look at the soldiers, or when they waved to her, or when she embraced her father, she doesn’t know herself, but at that point she realizes that life has changed and says, I just wish Grandpa, but she can’t finish her sentence, gripped by the despair of knowing that she cannot bring him back.
We mustn’t think, though, that the whole of the latifundio is singing the praises of the revolution. Let us remember what the narrator said about this Mediterranean sea with its barracudas and other perils, as well as the occasional unctuous monkfish. The whole Lamberto Horques dynasty is gathered together, sitting at their respective round tables, with glum, scowling faces, the less furious members speak hesitantly, cautiously, if, nevertheless, yet, however, perhaps, this is what passes for the great unanimity of the latifundio, What do you think, Father Agamedes, this is a question that would normally never lack for an appropriate answer, but the prudence of the church is infinite, and Father Agamedes, though he is God’s humble servant sent to evangelize souls, knows a lot about the church and about prudence, Our kingdom is not
