I move my lips in the hope that someone beyond these walls can read them and get to know the story of what there is behind the formation of storms and of the big and small things that happen to us when we feel the colours and the smells as clear as the words when they had sound. This chain of events started when I went to the village one mid afternoon and the air first, and then the fast formation of a cloud, drew my attention.
I lived alone, my brothers had died the same year and each time I had a companion, she abandoned me saying it wasn’t because of me but because of the ranch. I knew the lane to the village very well because I did it slowly, as if I could rearrange the positions and the instants immediately prior to my passing by the place where the lizards and the sheep were, in the exact place where my horse trod later. I used to fill my days creating shapes with the strongest lines of each memory, so as not to be so lonely, despite the abandonments.
The cloud I discovered that afternoon wasn’t a horse pulling branches, it looked like a grass bonfire but there was no fire; neither it was the be wolf because the dogs followed me as if nothing happened. Then I got off the horse where I thought was the centre of the smoke and I saw myself with the dust above the knee and the boots in a clean air. That was becoming as choking as water so I threw myself onto the ground and managed to draw air into my lungs. Over my raised head there was a low roof and suddenly, I saw the dogs rising as if they were being swallowed by emptiness. Next to them some paradise trees were torn like weeds. I tried to roll over, but it was unnecessary as I was immediately out of the cloud that was retreating like a big cart, it wasn’t necessary since I was no longer in the cloud which was going away over the field like a cart with flying canvas. Towards the other side my horse was running amok wrapped in its own cloud of dusk.
A month passed by, I had made no comments about that with anybody and no one had said anything about the event. My horse was recognized spotted and identified in the Custodio Barragán´s ranch, unsaddled and wounded from various falls. When I went to look for it, I knew about the disappearance of the two labourers who were going on their rounds in the Barragán´s north field. Just on the day of the dust cloud.
“They ran away with the horses and the saddles”, Barragán told me.
“The cloud took them, they were taken away by the cloud”, I told him slowly and earnestly.
“Come on, Alcides, the saddles were ours”
“ The cloud took my dogs away. You know, what I did was to inform the police post. They will have to be seen somewhere”
“Look, Alcides, don’t be silly. I knew your brothers and none of them ever tried to pull my leg. We haven’t believed in broom flights for a long time here.”
So I returned, drawing the horse from the bridle, Custodio´s words still sounding in my ears. It was painful to see the horse limping from one leg and it was difficult for me to walk because any stupid ditch seems unconquerable. Everything is rougher, higher the pastures, further the horizon, everything looks duller…. grayer and the clouds seem to fall over your head. Animals know when you are beaten and perhaps this was the reason why a snake bit me just as I was reaching the last hill.
When I finally arrived it was dark and my leg really hurt. I took the cot outside, put it under the branch shelter but didn’t have the courage to cut where the marks of the bite were. The walls of the hut had become invisible, the shapes could be seen but my eyes went through where they should have stopped. There was something like moonlight in the exact shape of the hut. When I got used to the sight, my three brothers who seemed to have come from outside appeared. They had entered from the side where there was no door and were standing, talking as if preparing themselves for the chores of the day. I-who was lying all rolled on the cot and having no voice, wanted to run outside …. It was as though the bitten leg had turned into wood. I was cheered up by the idea of waiting until dawn and bringing a cart to take all my things somewhere surrounded by people and voices. When I felt for the knife to cut the bite I realized the walls had become invisible but a naked woman could be seen as high as the roof. She was sitting and moving her arms as a windmill, she had several stones, which she threw from one hand to the other. She stopped, rubbed the stones one against the other and fire came out from them. She threw them up and blew them to make them go higher. I saw the exact moment when they became thunders and lightnings. It began to rain so hard and so unexpectedly that I had no other choice than getting into the hut. My brothers embraced me and I started hearing their voices: They caressed my leg and said: “All is well…, you are with us, Alcides.”
Written by Leonardo Garet
Translated by Liliam Goncalves