One bright day

The following day marked Andrés being grounded for the rest of the week, Carnival included. He got home and spontaneously told his parents he beat the shit out his brother. He got no corporal punishment, but he'd go home from school and to school from home every day, no other places.

"And do your homework. Everything that's still undone. And that's a whole lot to do. There is more: if your grades go down again you'll be grounded for a year, or my name is not Maria Aparecida Silva Conselheiro anymore…"

Aparecida complies with her mother's duties. Though it won't suffice sometimes, it's what has to be done and period. Everything else is life and we have no comptency to design anybody's fate. One does what is feasible, within their reached. Everything else is what comes to pass in the long run.

"I hit him because he talks too much."

Andrés

She checks Adriano's tiny gashes that remained from yesterday's incident. Andrés just watches every move around, silent. All of a sudden he gets downfrom the table, goes to his bedroom and brings books, notebooks and pen and starts updating his notebooks, or so it seems. My impression is that he is not exactly absorbed by his homework, but by what is going on around him.

"I think you could start today", said Aparecida when she found me at night at the porch, "I'll ask Andrés to come here. Is it alright here?"

I told her it was alright. She disappeared into the house. I pulled another chair closer to mine and waited. Andrés came alone, looked at me for some time as if he recognized me, sat down on the chair after pulling it a bit further from mine. He was now waiting for me to start talking. And I did make him wait. Not because I really wanted to, but because I didn't know where to start. The boy started showing signs of impatience.

"So…? What's going on?"

"We could start by yesterday, what do you think?"

"What do you want me to say about yesterday?"

"Why did you hit your brother yesterday?"

"I hit him because he talks too much."

Question answered, back to our silence. Andrés looked at the night landscape out of the porch. I ask him what Adriano talks so much about. The boy retorted that if he were to tell me what it was there wouldn't be any need to hit his brother (what makes a hell of a sense). He started stomping one of his feet slightly, at the peak of his impatience.

"Is that all? I need to go to bed." And yawned, to make sure I understood his inalienable need for sleep.

"Your sleep'll have to wait. We have hardly taken the first steps."

His cheeks swelled, letting out air in a long, long blow. His foot started stomping again. I asked him to refrain from doing it. He did, despite himself. If he could he'd kill me, this I can tell by his look. I ask him to look me in the eyes. Nice for a kick-off. Only it is not football, it is totally something else. Here, at most, it could start a seizure of laughter in him, what would certainly help him unwind, as a "let's play serious" thing.

A stare. I try to get lost at the sight of his eyes. Delve into, see what's inside. It's interesting that he is apparently trying to do the same.

"Are you finished? Can I go to bed now?"

"Yes."

He waited no more. Disappeared so fast into the house that I thought it was another of his many skills.

Without a trance | Speechless

Radio Universal: A Love Like Blood