Without a trance

At the porch. I hear Duílio's car approaching, bringing the kids back from school. It's now forty minutes past noon and the Conselheiros prepare to have lunch any time now. The boys step out of the car dragging their books and folders out of it, greet me automatically as they climb to the porch. Duílio's greeting was not less automatic, something originally from the social obligations we all have to deal with.

From the three, only Adriano comes out back to the porch. He casually shows me a book he borrowed from school, a Portuguese book with some nice texts for reading, text interpretation and so on. Andrés eventually shows up, calls his brother to do something and the two disappear from sight, leaving me with the Portuguese book in my hands.

I sit down and start browsing through the book, its texts, images. A vague sensation of reflection crawls upon me. I perceive Adriano's energy that remained throughout the book, something confused of these days we have spent, something vague, undefined. I shut my eyes — the book is on my lap — and let myself be taken by the energy wave. When I least expect, an image of the kids comes looming in my mind. They're walking a trail that is now familiar to me: the trail to the Horns Falls.

I can see it so clearly that it frightens me, it's almost as though I were there with them. I see that the two brothers stop at the place where Andrés and I were the other day, what seems to clear my vision even more — I was there and so is my energy, I guess.

A bit after I come to this conclusion, I "see" Andrés kick his brother violently on the stomach. Adriano bends like a bamboo stick and falls to the ground, twisting with the pain. Astonished, my first impulse is to open my eyes, but I remember that I'll lose track of the vision should I do so. I can't tell what Andrés is screaming like a madman, pointing at the farm's direction.

He then raises his brother from the ground and deals him a devastating open-handed blow on the face that forces Adriano's head to the other side. Another, another and another, getting stronger each time as if there were something growing inside Andrés. Adriano's head turns from one side to the other as would a tennis spectator sitting in the middle of a court.

"How come a twelve-year old leaves a fifteen-year old in these conditions???"

I rise to my feet, losing track of the image, dropping the Portuguese book. I come out of the porch, head for the Horns Falls. From a distance, I see that Duílio has just shown up at the porch, but I'm much too far now to answer any question.

I find Adriano alone at the waterfall, shoe-gazing, head hidden between crossed arms, crying. Andrés must have taken another track to go back to the farm, since I didn't run into him on this track I take to the Falls. I sit down at Adriano's side and he doesn't seem to be curious about who it was.

"What track back to the farm did Andrés take?"

"…"

"What track did Andrés take?" I insisted.

"There are many tracks around… Andrés and I know all of them. But I don't know which one he took…"

"Adriano, look at me."

I felt something weird in the air, as Adriano not wanting me to see his face. He raised his head slowly. He was really bleeding from his mouth and nose. I felt very sorry to see him in that state. Took him close to the water, washed his face and found out there were tiny and not deep gashes on his face which caused the bleeding. I eventually helped him stop the bleedings with a bit of pressure.

"Why did you brother hit you?"

"Dunno…"

"For no reason? You're then like a punching bag, why have a reason after all?"

I don't say these things to kids because I'm sadistic. Sometimes it is necessary to shock someone to reaction with some aggressive lines, see if we can drag them out of the trance they're in.

"Was it on account of us talking?"

"…"

I rested my case. Gave him some time to breathe. Offered to go along with him to the farm. He turned it down. Said he would go back later. I argued he was in no good condition to walk back home alone. Especially after a kick on the stomach. Hearing this, the kid looked at me out of the blue, nearly twisting his neck.

"Who told you he kicked me on the stomach?"

He was all but alarmed. Glaring bloodshot eyes pointing at me. How could I know about it if I seemed to only come in the end? Sometimes I turn on my fuck-off and everything's fine. Yes, I really said I "saw" the kid get a goddamned kick on the stomach.

"You were watching it all… Otherwise, how could you know I got kicked on the stomach?"

Why the vision, to begin with? Adriano's Portuguese book that stayed with me, still full of Adriano's energy, allowed me to contact him where he was. I explain that to him, but at first, it doesn't seem to make any sense. After some time, he looks calmer. And, incredibly he seems to believe what I say about the vision.

"Then you are like Andrés", he said.

New data for the files. My client has (besides being extremely violent) extra-sensorial perception. But the sheer ferocity of his assault on his brother still scares and amazes me. A true sensorial assault while Adriano's Portuguese book was on my lap.

"Don't you know how to fight?", I asked him, "Course I'd never tell you to mistreat your younger brother, but you must defend yourself sometimes you know? How come a twelve-year old leaves a fifteen-year old in these conditions???"

"You can't understand", he sniffed, "he is not just any twelve-year-old kid."

"You are the one who knows him better, you could tell me what makes him so special, besides having ESP."

He said nothing else, shoe-gazing again. I was thinking whether his younger brother really had ESP and if it was for ESP he asked Adriano if a "should" was the best he had to offer him and Duílio last night. I help him stand up and walk home, ignoring his pleas to go back all by himself. He went back home by limping all the way.

Dead file | One bright day

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