I looked for my mother two days ago, took the envelope, the photo and the ring with me and felt uncomfortable the entire morning of the trip to my grandfather’s farm, where my parents still live today. I never paid much attention to the thing about not being able to eat meat during Quaresma, it being something much more serious during “Friday of passion” and “Holy saturday” but still condemned during the entire period of days leading up to Easter.
Since I was to leave my parents house, I ate as much meat as I wanted. But on that specific day, I can’t say what happened. I had lunch and set off on the road, it didn’t take much more than a few minutes for me to feel dizzy and a little breathless. I wouldn’t think it strange, I was driving, I may have gotten carsick.
The problem is that I felt really, really hungry. It’s strange to remember the moment because I felt like my stomach was contracting from my hunger, I really couldn’t breathe properly and I was salivating from hunger. It wasn’t long after lunch and I was willing to stop the trip just to eat, but between that and not eating anymore there’s no difference. I only felt better after drinking water and, well, even then my dry throat felt sticky from being so hungry. When I arrived at the farm, I was welcomed and I think I didn’t look well at all, as my mother complained about me being pale and took me inside.
I don’t know why, but as soon as I drank the water my mother offered me, I vomited it all out in a matter of moments. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so much air enter my chest at once. My mother offered me care and, by the time I remembered my purpose there, it was already dark. I didn’t want to spend the night but it was late and it’s a long trip, besides my mother so lovingly whispering to me that I could go back to being little Pearl again, apparently they hadn’t disturbed my old room.
I accepted, and before I let myself forget again, I showed the envelope, the photo and the ring to my mother. I felt strangely relieved when, at first, she didn’t recognize the ring and seemed more disturbed that I’d received a photo of myself that she hadn’t sent. But, she soon faced the sparkling jewel set in the metal and stared at me, her ever-soft eyes looking like daggers grinding me like pig wash.
She asked me who sent the ring, and I couldn’t answer, which seems to have given her permission to take everything from my hands and keep it. My mother spent long hours asking me the exact same thing, “Who did you get the ring from?” After hearing so much, I got upset, and I allowed myself to be ridiculous by isolating myself in my old room instead of trying to properly convince my mother that I really didn’t know about the ring.
I felt stupid while wearing a nightgown from when I was 13 or 14, but at the same time, it was comforting to be able to relive some sweet little memories from when I was younger, simple memories that allowed me to clear my head before heading out to dinner and go to sleep. No meat this time.
My mother remained silent throughout dinner, and it was at that moment that I noticed the echo that fills the house when my father is not there. My mother just goes about her life in a punctually routine way and seems like… a ghost in her own house. My father, on the other hand, works all day under the sun apparently, his presence is sunny, almost scandalous and I could feel it when he arrived in the middle of dinner and hugged me with all his strength, talking out loud and starting eat immediately. I talked to him a little before bed and he’s never really going to change, I don’t think at least.
I slept peacefully for a part of the night, but towards dawn I woke up to something making my nose itch. I opened my eyes and hoped to turn to the window without noticing anything else in the room. But, no, I very quickly noticed something wrong in the room. Two things: the smell of sulfur coming from the door and the person emanating that smell, my grandfather.
My grandfather is an old man but he is still very, very tall, has dark skin and deep-set eyes, his hair is incredibly still turning gray slowly. It may not seem very disturbing but I felt my entire body freeze when I noticed my grandfather watching me from the crack in the door. His eyes were wide, his breathing shallow and his body bent in a way he would never be able to do without complaining of pain and having his bones crack one by one. When I looked at him, I felt that same hunger consume me. Before the hunger, above all, I felt afraid.
We stared at each other for a long moment and, honestly, I have no idea how long it was, but all it took was the sun emerging through the window for him to get up and leave. As he stood there, I thought about many things, but I couldn’t help but think about how long he was there. I got up and went after him, to find the hallway empty, the door to the house open and no sign of my grandfather.
I really wanted to leave immediately but, apparently, my mother was awake this whole time, she got up, went to me and asked me to stay just to say goodbye to my father and eat, and that’s what I did, without even thinking about facing my grandfather about what he did. I ate, changed, greeted my father and headed back to town.
The days went on normally, but today, when I got home from work, I expected to find my boyfriend waiting for me with his usual hyssop perfume, smelling almost alcoholic thanks to the shea and grapes. Smelling the scent of these things makes me remember him immediately, it’s obvious that I was eager to see him and tell him everything that happened in person, even though he already knew, the main thing at least, through a phone call.
When I entered my apartment, however, I only smelled the faint smell of nicotine. This got me upset pretty quickly and I got ready to fight if I saw a cigarette in his hands. I found him in the kitchen and the smell of nicotine was immediately replaced by sulfur. I stopped in place, only able to remember my grandfather before my boyfriend turned and watched me. I asked him about the smell, all he said to me was “Smell?” before returning to cooking.
We are lying now, together, he has laid his head on my chest and is listening to my heart, he says. I can’t say why, and I don’t want to admit it, but it bothers me more than it should. I don’t know what to do.