carry on, and Joana Carda simply asked, Which home.
Now here comes Pedro Orce bringing another man with him. From this distance he looks old, just as well, we have quite enough problems of cohabitation already. The man is leading a donkey harnessed with packsaddle and load, as old-fashioned a donkey as you have ever seen, but this one is an unusual silvery color, were it called Platero, it would, like the scraggly Rocinante, be worthy of its name. Pedro Orce comes to a halt on the invisible line that marks the boundary of the encampment, he must observe the formalities of presenting and introducing the visitor, something that must always be done on the other side of the threshold, these are rules we do not have to learn, the historic man within us observes them, one day we tried to enter the castle without permission and we were taught a lesson. Pedro Orce says emphatically, I came across this fellow countryman and I've brought him along to have a bowl of soup with us, there is obvious exaggeration in the term fellow countryman, but it is understandable at a time like this, a Portuguese from Minho and one from Alentejo feel nostalgia for the same fatherland, even though five hundred kilometers had separated the one from the other, and now they are both six hundred kilometers from home.
Joaquim Sassa and Jose Anaico not recognize the man, but the same cannot be said regarding the donkey. There is something unmistakable and familiar about it, in a manner of speaking, which is not surprising, for a donkey does not change in appearance over a few months, while a man, if he is dirty and unkempt, if he has let his beard grow, has become thin or fat, or has lost his hair, would need his own wife to strip him to see if that special mark is in the same place, sometimes much too late, when everything is over and repentance will not gather the fruit of pardon. Observing the rules of hospitality, Jose Anaico said, You are welcome, do join us, and if you'd like to unload the donkey and give it a rest, there's enough fodder there for all of them, the donkey and the horses. Without its packsaddle and load the donkey looked much younger, and its coat was now seen to be in two tones of silver, the one dark, the other light, and both quite striking. When the man went to tether the beast, the horses looked askance at the newcomer, doubting whether it could be of much assistance to them with its scraggly frame that would be difficult to harness. The man returned to the campfire and before pulling over the stone on which he would sit, he introduced himself, My name is Roque Lozano. As for the rest, the most elementary rules of narrative demand that it avoid repetition. Jose Anaico was about to ask if the donkey had a name, if it was named by any chance Platero or Silver, but the final words uttered by Roque Lozano, which in the end always repeat themselves, I came to see Europe, caused him to fall silent. His memory was suddenly jolted and he muttered to himself, I know this man, just as well he remembered in time, it would be nothing less than offensive if it took a donkey for people to recognize each other. Similar thoughts must have been stirring in Joaquim Sassa's head when he said hesitantly, I have the impression that we've met before, Me too, replied Roque Lozano, you remind me of two Portuguese I met at the beginning of my journey, but they were traveling by car and they had no women with them, Life takes so many turns, Senhor Roque Lozano, and one gains and loses so much that one could just as easily lose a Deux Chevaux car as find a wagon with two horses, two women, and yet another man, quipped Maria Guavaira, And there's more on the way, interrupted Joana Carda. Neither Pedro Orce nor Roque Lozano had any idea what she was talking about, but Jose Anaico and Joaquim Sassa knew, and they did not much like this allusion to secrets of the human body, especially women's bodies.
They had recognized each other, any doubts had disappeared. Roque Lozano was the man they had encountered between the Sierras Morena and Aracena, traveling with his donkey Platero toward Europe, which in the end he had not seen, although that was still his intention and his hope of salvation. And now where are you heading, Joana Carda asked him, I'm going back home, because despite all these turns the earth has taken it's bound to be in the same place. You mean the earth. No, my home, one's home is always where the earth is. Maria Guavaira started to ladle the soup into bowls after adding a little water to ensure that there would be enough for everyone. They ate in silence, except for the dog, which methodically gnawed a bone, and the beasts of burden, which munched and chewed the hay. Now and then you could hear a dry bean pod snap. These animals have nothing to complain about as far as their rations are concerned, if one considers the prevailing difficulties.
Some of the mote personal difficulties will be resolved by the family council scheduled for tonight. The presence of a stranger will be no impediment. On the contrary, for now that Roque Lozano has said he is returning home, what are we going to do, wander at random like gypsies, buying and selling clothes off the rack, or shall we return home, go back to work, to a normal existence, for even if the peninsula should never again come to a halt, everyone will start getting used to it, just as mankind got used to inhabiting the constantly moving earth. We're not even capable of imagining how much it must have upset everyone's balance to go whizzing around an aquarium with a sunfish inside. Forgive me for correcting you, said the unknown voice, but there's no such thing as a sunfish, there's a moonfish but no sunfish. In that case I won't argue with you, but if there isn't one there ought to be. Alas, you can't have everything, Jose Anaico concluded, comfort and freedom are incompatible, this wandering existence has its charms, but four solid walls with a roof overhead give more protection than a wagon covered with canvas and bouncing along over potholes. Joaquim Sassa suggested, Let's start by taking Pedro Orce home, and then, he broke off in mid-sentence, unable to finish, and at this point Maria Guavaira intervened and said clearly what had to be said, Very well, let's drop Pedro Orce off at his pharmacy and then go on to Portugal, Jose Anaico can return to his school, wherever it is, while we continue in a direction once referred to as north, Joana Carda will have to decide whether she prefers to stay behind in Ereira with her cousins or go back to her husband in Coimbra, once this matter has been settled we can head for Oporto and drop Joaquim Sassa off outside his office, his bosses must be back from Penafiel by now, and finally I'll make my own way home where a man is waiting to marry me, he'll say he's been guarding my property while I've been away, Now marry me, and with a torch I'll set this wagon on fire, as one burns a dream, and perhaps I will finally manage to push the stone vessel out to sea and embark.
Such a long speech leaves the person speaking breathless, not to mention those who are listening. For a moment they all remained silent, then Jose Anaicon a stone raft. But it's much too big for us to feel like sailors, rejoined Maria Guavaira, and Joaquim Sassa observed smiling, How true, nor has traveling through space above the world turned us into astronauts. There was further silence, then it was Pedro Orce's turn to speak. Let's do one thing at a time, Roque Lozano can join us and we'll take him to his family, who must be waiting for him in Zufre, and then we can decide about our own future. But there isn't any room for anyone else to sleep inside the wagon, Jose Anaico insisted. Don't let that worry you, if that's the only reason why I shouldn't accompany you, I'm used to sleeping out in the open, just so long as it doesn't rain, and if I can sleep under the wagon that will be as good as having a roof over my head at night, I was beginning to get tired of being on my own, believe me, Roque Lozano confided.
Next day they resumed their journey. Grizzly and Chess grumbled at the good fortune of donkeys, this one is trotting behind the wagon, comfortably attached with a rope and relieved of any burden, as naked as it came into the world, with its nice silvery sheen, its master is in the driver's seat, chatting about the past with Pedro Orce, the couples are talking under the canvas, the dog walks ahead, on patrol. From one moment to the next, almost miraculously, harmony has been restored to the expedition. Yesterday, after the final deliberation, they drew up an itinerary, nothing very precise but just so as not to go blindly. First they would descend to Tarragona, then travel along the coast as far as Valencia, move inland through Albacete as far as Cordoba, go down to Seville, and finally, less than eighty kilometers away, arrive at Zufre, where we shall say, Here comes Roque Lozano, back safe and sound from his great adventure, he left poor and poor he returns, he has discovered neither Europe nor El Dorado, not everyone who has gone in search of them has found them, nor is the traveler always to blame. Time and time again, there are no riches whatsoever where, out of malice or ignorance, we were promised we would find them. Then we will look on and see how he is received, Dear grandfather, Dearest father, Beloved husband, What a pity you've returned, I thought you might have perished in the wilderness or been devoured by wolves, not everything can be said aloud.
Then at Zufre the family council will convene once more, now where are we going and what will they say about us when we arrive, where, for what, for whom, Your questions are false if you already know the answer. Within so short a time, the unknown voice had spoken twice.
...
After turning from east to west until a perfect semicircle had been traced, the peninsula began to incline. At that precise moment, and in the most rigorous sense, if metaphors as a vehicle of literal sense can be rigorous,
