Into the vaults of madness

Six thirty p.m. Again that delicious Mineiro-made coffee and cheese bread bought at the town's bakery. Andrés, as a good Mineiro, loved the bread (though you don't need to be a Mineiro to love them). Master Danilo told us of the chaos in the city. According to him, water is beginning to disappear from certain parts of the city though we're no close to any dry season yet.

"This is how it begins", he added, "the air goes too dry, water scarcity occurs, these things."

Master Danilo asked us if we read the two ceremony descriptions, 1957 and ours. Andrés and I were stunned the night before, looking at the book and confirming there had been no difference between the two ceremonies. We told him Adriano couldn't point out anything about the memory thing on the book and the man just laughed, "kids will be kids", and then said, "see? It was the same thing, no difference or anything falling out of place. Same order, same handling, same ominous dream, same everything."

Here we enter a delicate subject. Master Danilo swore he didn't think someone would die like in his time as a handler, but he saw that things were going too akin to what happened to him and friend Andrés in the long summer of '57. He saw there was a tendency and there was nothing we could do.

"And that Estela substituted for the dead Taurino", I took a shortcut.

"Exactly as in your case. The description is the same, the same twenty and some pages you've shown me, see" and he showed us the passages, "yes even the number of pages matches the other."

"It's just a feeling I get sometimes. A feeling sometimes. And I get frightened just like you. I get frightened too but it's no time for heartache. No time to run and hide. No time for breaking down. No time to cry."

No Time To Cry, written and performed by Sisters Of Mercy.

The tinnitus in my ears now lets me overhear some of what they say as a muffled speech. My hearing is back again. My hearing is back again! I tell them and they decided to drink some more coffee "for a celebration", pouring me some more of it. Andrés said he was concerned and even frightened with my hearing problem, that had already deemed irreversible.

"Andrés, have you seen a photo of master Danilo and the class of 1957 he keeps here in his house?"

Master Danilo apologized to him, "it's been long since I meant to show it to you and your brother and father, but we don't meet for long very often and it always ends up forgotten." He gave the shot to Andrés and we stood in front of him to appreciate the effect. The color escaped his face completely. I looked at master Danilo and asked Andrés if he was feeling fine. He said he was.

"The shot is beautiful. I like everybody serious here, you, my grandpa, the other guys. Here's Anderson's grandpa. Here's Bruno's" he seemed to shake slightly, staring at the photo and glancing at the two of us. As if he secretly assessed us. He gave the shot back to master Danilo in machine-like motion, still colorless in the face.

"Andrés", I said serious, "I guess there are things you never ever open to anyone. What about these vaults? When will you open them up?"

"What are you talkin' about?"

"The shot. Who is on that shot?"

"It's master Danilo, my grandpa…"

"Are you sure it was your grandpa?"

"Why, who else could it be?", he panted, coating in cold sweat.

"You, my childhood fella. So good to see you again. How many men in the world have this privilege of meeting a long gone friend like you?" master Danilo seemed touched at seeing the old friend again, but knew it was going to be hard for him.

The boy let his head fall slowly on the table. Salt water started collecting in his lenses until it nearly overflew. I looked at master Danilo and him and was sorry. So sorry I felt like crying my soul out too. But someone will have to make a stand here. Let it be me, if not anyone else.

"Andrés, it's no time to cry, want some more coffee? I'll make us some." offered master Danilo with watering eyes too.

"What he means is that we have to follow on, Andrés. No more secrets, Taurinos can't wait any longer."

I gave him a paper tissue. Two. Three. He blew his nose, cleansed his lenses. Andrés breathed with some difficulty a nervous as he was. He wouldn't look at us. I encouraged him to do so. When he finally raised his eyes to meet ours, had his face messed by the thousand emotions that shook him.

"How could you know?"

"The shot, Andrés. When master Danilo showed me the shot I saw it was you. I don't know if he knew, but it was not a case of just similarity, there is no feature in his face that is not in yours. See for yourself, if you can't believe me. Were you two different people there had to be small differences here and there, but there are none you see. Because it's you on the photo, not your grandpa."

"But he is your grandpa too, so you're your own grandpa. Boy, what a mess you have made… I wondered where you took so many memories from, the meetings and the ceremony were just the same as they had been in '57. Ask "sá" Stella, I never got enough of that mystery."

"Yes, I simply marvelled at how secure you were directing the sessions. How you knew so well how to be on the lead. My God, to think you're your mother's father-in-law, your father's father and your brother's grandfather… Boy, that's crazy. As if it wasn't enough, I see that this is not even half the confusion."

Andrés wouldn't give up crying easily. More and more tears collected, overflew, collected, overflew, collected, overflew, in a continual process of dripping.

"Try and save some water", I said in a non-sadistic mode, "soon the town's going to have none."

He looked at me infuriated and started to laugh. Nervous laughter of one who couldn't resist a joke made at the right time. Master Danilo had his laugh as well. But we had to go on.

"Who is this one? See here for the members of the Society in 1905. His name is Luís Felipe Mattos Conselheiro. It was the last thing I remember hearing Arthur mention in his last session at the Mithraeum. I even remember Bruno saying your clan has come a long way combating The Big One."

"He's my great grandfather."

"Andrés, we already know that by the timeline."

"It's me." He was sorry to tell us that, maybe because he already knew the implications.

"Guilherme realized soon that he had to be one of you six, it was a question of mathematics. If they awaited the Advent of an ancient handler 104 years after 1905, it had to be in 2009. Now I understand how nervous you were when Those Who Returned were discussed. You were so nervous when Arthur read that part where Ariman was said to come together with the handler to town in case some conditions were not fulfilled for his return."

"Yes, but a handler can't return more than once… My good Mithra… Andrés, you couldn't have returned here this time!"

And he cited the passage verbatim to Andrés, "Lend him all the might of your ears, because he will return this time and no more. For it is an immeasurable risk for him to return for the mighty Aremã always lurks from his shadows."

The kid was still crying, now terrified. Asked us to lie to him. He said he preferred the mercy of our lies. I told him those are fractions of the daily melodrama. That he could sit there in a typical feel of a Brazilian, Colombian or Mexican soap opera but it would be no use. I told him things were even simpler than he ever imagined.

"You'll have to be through the Ordeal", said master Danilo, a guardian of the mysteries in local Mithraism.

"That's what is here. I even remember Anderson reading that part and asking me what an Ordeal was. You have to drown for five minutes in the waters of Horns Falls, he read. In case you return to life after these five minutes, you're free from Ariman, The Big One and so is the city of Taurinos. This is the deal. Easier, no?"

He looked at me infuriated as he understood I was underplaying his plight. His lenses were soaked, tears rolling over dried streaks of older tears.

"Easier said than done. It's not you drowning for five minutes!"

"You were going to drown time enough for dying in those waters and were not complaining. You were so stoical accepting death as a punishment for a nonsense, how can you hesitate before something that can be the redemption for you and all of us in town? And there's more, chances are you'll leave the well still safe and sound, so I believe that your penalty is being commuted to something lighter and better. Take it and save the day. Leave it and be prepared to die and worse still: die without doing what the time demanded from you."

I was astonished at his reaction, even understanding the burden we had just put on his shoulders. Andrés lowered his head against the table once more and new torrents of tears flooded his lenses one more time. That hurt him, master Danilo and me. It was an eternity until he decided to raise his head and face us.

"Let the Ordeal come. I'm ready to drown." and his head hit the table again.

I looked at master Danilo, took a deep breath. Now I can hear their voices, still muffled but the sounds can now be distinguished. I'm improving. Only wouldn't like to recall my feats in the arena on that Saturday night fever.

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