obviously hungry too, come and sleep at my house, have a bowl of soup and rest, you’ll die of cold if you stay here, that’s what he said, no one believes such things can happen, and yet it’s true, João Mau-Tempo can only answer, Thank you very much, it’s a real act of charity, Father Agamedes would cry hosanna were he here, he would praise the kindness of man to man, and he’s quite right, this man carrying the bag on his back deserves to be praised, though he’s not a churchgoer, not that he’s said as much, but the narrator knows these things, as well as others that have nothing to do with the story, because this is a story about the latifundio, not about the city. The man is older than João Mau-Tempo, but stronger and quicker on his feet, indeed, he has to slow down to accommodate the painful pace of this man raised from the dead, and to cheer him up, he says, I live near here, in Alfama, and he turns onto Rua da Alfândega, and João Mau-Tempo is already feeling better, and they set off down damp, steep-sided alleyways, well, in this weather it’s hardly surprising they’re damp, a door, the narrowest of stairways, an attic room, Hi, Ermelinda, this gentleman is sleeping here tonight, he’s going home tomorrow and has nowhere to stay, Ermelinda is a plump woman who opens the door to them as if she were opening her arms, Come in, and João Mau-Tempo, and sensitive readers, forgive me, and those who only appreciate large, dramatic events, but the first thing he notices is the smell of food, a bean and vegetable soup bubbling on the stove, and the man says, Make yourself at home, and then, What’s your name, and João Mau-Tempo, who is already sitting down, overcome by a sudden weariness, tells him his name, Well, I’m Ricardo Reis,
* and this is my wife Ermelinda, these are ordinary enough names, and that’s pretty much all we know about them, that and these bowls of soup on the kitchen table, Eat up, the cold is easing now, Lisbon has turned out to be a kindly place, this window at the back looks out over the river, there are a few small lights on boats, but fewer on the farther shore, who would have thought that one day, seen from here, they would be a feast for the eyes. Have another glass of wine, and perhaps that’s why, after a second glass of strong wine, João Mau-Tempo is smiling so broadly, even when he tells them what happened to him in prison, by the time he’s finished it’s getting late, and he can barely keep his eyes open, Ricardo Reis is looking serious, and Ermelinda is drying her tears, and then they say, It’s time you went to bed, you need to rest, and João Mau-Tempo doesn’t notice that it’s a double bed they’ve given him, he hears footsteps in the corridor, but they’re not the guard’s footsteps, not the guard, not the guard, and, free at last, he falls asleep.
THERE HAVE BEEN six months of changes, which sometimes seem too few and sometimes too many. They are barely noticeable in the landscape, apart from the usual seasonal variations, but it’s frightening to see how people have aged, both the men just let out of prison and those who never left Monte Lavre, and how the children have grown, only João Mau-Tempo and Sigismundo Canastro seem unchanged in each other’s eyes. Sigismundo Canastro arrived yesterday and has already said that they must meet and talk, he’s as stubborn and determined as ever, you see, but that’s the way he is. Some people, however, are a pleasure to look at, as is the case with Gracinda Mau-Tempo, who has grown into a beautiful young woman, marriage clearly suits her, or so say the gossips, both the kindly and the cruel, but that’s as far as the latter will go, and there are other changes too, for example, Father Agamedes has gone from being tall and thin to being short and fat, and the amount of money owed at the shop has grown enormously, as is to be expected when the man of the house has been away. That’s why, when the time came, João Mau-Tempo set off with his daughter Amélia for the ricefields near Elvas, and to give you an idea of the geographical sensibilities of these rustic inhabitants, it’s said in Monte Lavre that beyond Elvas lies Spanish Extremadura, heaven knows how they stumbled upon this knowledge of a larger universe, which pays no heed to frontiers or borders, and if we want to know what lies behind João Mau-Tempo’s excursion to Évora, it’s largely to do with the latifundio’s suspicions about the ways and wiles of João Mau-Tempo, political prisoner. It’s true that he was never tried, but that’s the fault of the police, who are not as efficient as they ought to be. After a few months, things will get back to normal, but meanwhile, it’s best if he keeps his distance, then he won’t contaminate our beloved land, and as for Sigismundo Canastro, they tell him there’s no work and that he’ll have to find it elsewhere.
So off João Mau-Tempo went to Elvas, taking with him his daughter Amélia, the one with the bad teeth, although if she had good teeth, she would easily be a match for her sister. Let it be said now that hell is not far away. There are one hundred and fifty men and women, divided into five groups, and this torment will last sixteen weeks, it’s a veritable harvest of scabies and fevers, a labor not of love but of pain, weeding and planting from before the sun rises until after it has set, and when night falls, one hundred and fifty ghosts trudge up to the place where they have their lodgings, the men
