Perfect Days

by Raphael Montes

  “Time?”

  “Time, friends, her mentality,” she said. She was running her fingers over the plastic pages of the album, trying to hide her discomfort. “My mother comes from a working-class background, closed-minded. She thinks writers are lazy, people who smoke pot are criminals, and people who fall in love with people of the same sex are sick. Things I don’t agree with.”

  The opportunity was ripe to talk about Laura but Teo didn’t know how to broach the topic.

  “So you grew apart?”

  “She pretends to look after me, and I pretend to need her. She feels guilty—that I know.”

  “About what?”

  “She was the one who gave up on me,” said Clarice, and her words were heavy with pain. “She saw that I wasn’t going to fit into the mold of a perfect daughter with a job in the public service and a nursery full of children. So she gave up. She cut me loose in the world.”

  Teo had been reticent about promising Helena that he’d get Clarice to call her. Now he knew that she wouldn’t think anything of it if her daughter didn’t contact her for several days. His main fear was that Helena might mention Breno’s disappearance.

  “I know it’s not her fault,” Clarice went on. “I’m a woman of the world. My rising’s in Sagittarius. There’s no point trying to control me. I belong to no one, you know? And I never will.”

  Teo smiled, but he had the impression she was insinuating something for his benefit. Her statement triggered a chain of thoughts in him, good and bad, that led to a harsh realization: he’d never be able to let Clarice go.

  13

  Tuesday began with a problem. Clarice was suffering from writer’s block, and the lack of cigarettes was to blame. She said she wasn’t able to write anything more. She was stuck at the part where the characters arrive at Ilha Grande.

  “Bloody hell. I went there when I was five. I can’t remember a fucking thing.”

  He knew that writers wrote about the things they knew. That’s why there was no way he’d ever write fiction. He’d end up creating a character who was a doctor living happily in Copacabana with a woman who was a bit of a nutcase.

  “It’ll pass,” he said.

  Tired of staring at the computer screen, Clarice lay down next to him on the bed. She was wearing the nightgown she’d worn the day he’d picked her up at her place. She was sloppier now: hair uncared for, nails chipped and chewed, no makeup on her face, and circles under her eyes. Her eyebrows had grown in, and her legs were a little hairy. Nevertheless, she was still beautiful. There was nothing in the world capable of making her ugly.

  “Why don’t we play cards?” she suggested. “I need to think about something else.”

  Teo agreed. He didn’t want Clarice to feel like a prisoner. The day before he had suggested they watch Little Miss Sunshine again, and that night she had asked him to teach her how to play backgammon. It was a lovely, fun day, set against the bucolic backdrop of Teresópolis.

  He gagged and handcuffed her and went to reception to get some cards. Gulliver, the oldest dwarf, was on the phone and signaled for him to wait. Teo liked Gulliver: he was a quiet chap, a little serious but level-headed. He avoided looking at him for too long, as he would invariably stare at his tiny fingers, which were like worms.

  Teo was surprised when Gulliver said into the phone, “I understand, Helena. You must come stay again, okay? Lately only Clarice’s come to visit us!” He let out a chuckle. “I don’t know why I wasn’t able to call their chalet. But you’re in luck. Her boyfriend’s standing right here in front of me. Hold on a sec.”

  Gulliver covered the mouthpiece with his left hand and turned to Teo.

  “Clarice’s mother wants to talk to her. I was trying to transfer the call to your chalet, but I keep getting a busy signal. I was going down there now to let Clarice know her mother’s on the line.”

  “Let me speak to her.”

  Teo went over to the private phone booth in the corner.

  “She’d rather talk to her daughter,” said the dwarf, but he ignored him. He closed the folding door, sat on the stool, and picked up the phone.

  “Could you get Clarice?” Helena’s voice was agitated but firm.

  “She’s in the chalet writing. How are you?”

  “A little upset. Could you get her please?”

  “You know what Clarice’s like. She asked not to be disturbed. I’ve been kicked out of the room myself,” he said, and laughed, trying to be pleasant.

  “I need to talk to her. Is she okay?”

  “Today she woke up in a crisis because she’s stuck in one part of the screenplay. Besides that, we’re having a really good time.”

  “Something horrible has happened.”

  Teo flinched and gripped the phone tightly.

  “Breno’s disappeared,” she said.

  “Breno?”

  “Clarice’s ex-boyfriend. She must have mentioned him.”

  “Oh yes, the violinist.”

  “He’s been missing since Thursday.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The police have just left. They wanted to talk to Clarice.”

  “To Clarice?”

  “I think they’re talking to everyone who was close to him.”

  Helena’s voice was empty and bitter, marked by the tension of a visit from the police.

  Teo tried not to sound defensive or afraid. “Clarice broke up with him almost a month ago. It’s awful that he’s missing. But I don’t think you should tell her right now. She’s finishing Perfect Days.” He clenched his left hand and began to beat it softly on the shelf in the booth. “Something like this could affect our relationship. I don’t want Clarice to start thinking about the guy again.”

  “The police want to talk to her. They insisted.”

  “She can talk to the police after the holidays,” he said. “We might not be back until the new year.”

  “Come back before Christmas. I want to go to Teresópolis to talk to the two of you.”

  “You don’t need to. Everything’s fine. I’m just not going to bother Clarice with a thing like this. I’m sure they’ll find the guy.”

  “The police are going to call her on her cell. Or they might call yours. I gave them your number.”

  He thought about saying You shouldn’t have done that but ended up saying, “Okay. It’s fine if they call.”

  “Do either of you have any idea what might have happened?”

  “We’re not aware of anything.”

  “It’s just that . . .” She was crying on the other end of the line. “I think I was the last person to see Breno before he disappeared.”

  Teo felt his legs growing weak. If he hadn’t already been sitting, he would have fallen to the floor. He looked at Gulliver through the glass. The dwarf was typing on the computer keyboard and didn’t seem to be able to hear the conversation.

  “Breno came over here on Thursday afternoon,” she said. “He wanted to talk to Clarice. He kept saying it over and over. He seemed really distraught. I said she wasn’t here and that she’d gone to Teresópolis with you. He left here like a madman, saying he had to talk to her no matter what. Right after that, he disappeared. And, well, I thought . . .” Her voice petered out. “I thought you two might have had something to do with it.”

  “We don’t.”

  “Are you sure?”

  The question offended Teo. “What do you think? That Breno came to Teresópolis that night and we killed him?”

  “I’d never think something like that!” she said. “Maybe he showed up there, and you kicked him out,” she said. “I think it’s possible he killed himself. He was really beside himself when he came to talk to me.”

  “Helena, as I said, I’ve been with Clarice the whole time, and I can assure you that he didn’t show up here on Thursday or Friday
or any other day. I don’t even know what he looks like.”

  “Do you think he might have committed suicide?”

  “You never really know what a person’s capable of, do you?”

  “I never liked him. But I’m scared, Teo.”

  “The most important thing right now is to protect Clarice,” he said. “I’d rather not tell her that this is going on. She’s so excited about the screenplay. Let’s give it some time. Breno might be hiding somewhere. He might have gone somewhere to think, taken some time out to get over it all.”

  “You’re right.”

  “I’m being rational. There’s nothing Clarice could say that would be of any help. And she’d end up feeling shaken and unable to continue writing. It’d be a lose-lose situation all around.”

  He hesitated but had to ask, “Did you tell the police that Breno had come looking for Clarice?”

  “No. I didn’t want to say anything until I knew what was going on. I don’t like dealing with the police.”

  “I hope you’re okay,” said Teo politely, “and that this is all sorted out quickly.” There was a heavy silence, then he said, “I’m very happy with your daughter. Her bubbly personality is contagious. She’s so focused on her screenplay that she’s even eased up on the cigarettes.”

  “She’s stopped smoking?”

  “Let’s just say she’s avoiding it,” he said, as if letting her in on a secret. “I’m putting a little pressure on her, of course.”

  “That’s great.”

  “Clarice doesn’t want to leave until she’s finished the screenplay. She spends all day writing.”

  “I understand,” she said in her slow, serious way. “Maybe I’ll come and visit you.”

  They hung up after a tepid good-bye.

  • • •

  As he walked, Teo went over the conversation with Helena in his mind. He tried to interpret things she’d said, think through nuances. Before hanging up, she had sounded convinced and agreeable. Almost too acquiescent. But the possibility of Helena showing up at the hotel at any moment flooded him with fear. If that happened, he wouldn’t have an excuse not to let her talk to her daughter personally. And then what would he do?

  When he walked into the chalet, he left the decks of cards on the bed and removed Clarice’s gag. He said he needed a shower to cool off.

  “What took you so long?” she asked.

  “Your mother called.”

  “My mother? Why?”

  “She wanted to know how you were. And when we’d be back. I told her we weren’t sure yet.”

  He closed the bathroom door. Facing the mirror, he trimmed his beard and changed the bandage on his face. He had let his beard grow to cover the scratch on his neck. Now all that was left was a discreet line. The area had stopped hurting, but the bruise was still there.

  He was ready to get into the shower when there was a knock at the door. He ran out wrapped in a towel and signaled for Clarice to stay quiet. He was completely panicked, even though there was no logical way Helena could have got to the hotel so fast. Unless she was already somewhere nearby, he thought, and for a second, he was certain that it was Clarice’s mother outside. He pulled the curtain aside a little.

  Gulliver saw Teo looking at him and smiled. “I’ve come to see what’s going on with the phone in your chalet,” he said.

  Teo nodded and went over to Clarice. He sat down next to her on the bed, stroking her arm as he removed the cuffs, and set her laptop on her lap.

  “Please don’t try anything,” he said. He put a dose of Thyolax in the syringe. Clarice stiffened in the bed, thinking she was about to be sedated, but he went over to the door and opened it, keeping the syringe hidden behind him.

  “Be quick,” he told the dwarf.

  Gulliver ran his pernicious little eyes around the chalet. He smiled when he saw Clarice and went over to greet her with a peck on the cheek.

  “I’m so glad to finally see the great writer!” he said. He stared at her for a moment, as if waiting for her to give him some kind of signal with her eyes.

  Clarice just smiled. Teo stayed close by, ready to immobilize the little man if he or Clarice tried anything. It was obvious that the problem with the phone line had been an excuse to get into the chalet. Gulliver was suspicious.

  “The plug is missing,” he said when he went over to the phone. “Someone must have removed it.”

  Teo smiled, dying to kick the dwarf. He imagined him bouncing off into the garden among the gnome statues.

  “Someone?”

  “One of the chambermaids, of course.” His tone of voice was ironic.

  Teo scowled and asked him to leave. “You can fix the phone when we go. We’re fine without it.”

  Gulliver left reluctantly. Teo slammed the door behind him and leaned against the wall. He clapped his hands to his head, trying to control his labored, furious breathing.

  “You’re really not okay, are you?” said Clarice.

  “Shut up!”

  The silence gave him a few seconds of respite. Then she asked, “Why don’t we hit the road?”

  “What did you say?”

  “Seeing as how we’re going to be spending the next few days together, why don’t we hit the road? We can sleep in a motel, then continue on to Ilha Grande and Paraty. I think it’ll be good for the screenplay if I make the same journey as the characters.”

  It was an excellent idea, and Teo was surprised that it had come from her. Truth be told, he really couldn’t bear to stay there any longer. There was something in the air, an undefinable stuffiness. He wanted to forget the dwarfs, forget Helena, forget Breno, and think only about the two of them. Go back to being what they used to be. A perfect fit.

  “So, what do you say?” she said.

  “I’m not sure.”

  Something was keeping him in the chalet. What would Gulliver think if they left now, right after that unpleasant episode with the phone line? He should have controlled himself. But he didn’t really care. Sooner or later they’d have to leave. Gulliver’s suspicions were as relevant as his height.

  They packed in a few hours. While Clarice was showering, Teo packed the suitcases and got the ampoules of Thyolax from the minibar. He put them in the toiletry bag this time, along with a syringe, where he’d have easy access to them. Afterward, he settled the bill and accompanied Gulliver to the room to confirm that they hadn’t consumed anything from the minibar. Clarice was waiting in the car, cuffed and gagged.

  They set out at dusk. At around eight o’clock in the evening, she suggested they spend the night at a roadside motel with a neon sign that said WONDERLAND MOTEL.

  14

  The lighting was dim. Mirrors on the walls and ceiling reflected each other in an infinite sequence. The double bed was covered with a white sheet and smelled of washing powder and cigarettes. On the bedside table was a cordless phone and the remote for the twenty-five-inch television.

  “It’s not so bad,” said Clarice, smoothing the sheet. “I hope they wash this well.”

  Teo followed her in with the suitcases. He left them on two chairs by the door. In the bathroom, he checked to make sure the beige-colored toilet flushed properly and tested the faucets in the shower. The plastic shower curtain was decorated with pink strawberries. He had never imagined himself in such a place.

  Clarice was wearing a low-cut dress with little bows on the sleeves. She lay on the bed and smiled at him.

  “There are no towels,” he said, looking away.

  He thought about phoning down to reception but decided to get them himself. Sharing a room with Clarice had become inexplicably uncomfortable. Was he avoiding her or himself? It wasn’t time to be thinking about these things. He cuffed her and left.

  “Oh my God! Oh my God! I’m going to be late!” the man at the front desk was saying on the phone
when Teo walked in. The man glanced at his watch with worried eyes and hung up. “What do you need?”

  “Towels.”

  “I’m sorry! I forgot to take them up,” he said. “The person who relieves me isn’t here yet.”

  “No problem.”

  Teo looked at the statue of a warrior holding a lance next to the door. When they’d arrived, he had parked in the motel garage and come up in a back elevator that led straight to reception. The walls had a medieval look, poorly painted to suggest piles of rocks. Two low towers confirmed the establishment’s architectural ambition. It was supposed to look like a castle but didn’t.

  When the receptionist handed him the towels, he remembered to ask, “Is there Wi-Fi in the rooms?”

  “No.”

  “Thanks.”

  • • •

  Above each door was a red light. Teo quickly worked out the code: when the light was on, there was a couple in the room. He went up to two or three doors but didn’t hear any moans.

  When he arrived with the towels, he found Clarice staring at the television. Two men and a woman were having sex on a kitchen counter in a position that didn’t look at all comfortable.

  He took the cuffs off Clarice and put her laptop on the bed.

  “Do you enjoy a bit of porn, Teo?”

  He turned his face away. He didn’t like to talk about intimate matters, even with her. He unzipped the suitcase and randomly chose a book.

  “I do,” she said. “Can you believe that most women don’t masturbate? I read it the other day in a magazine. They’re ashamed.” She made herself comfortable on the bed and turned off the television. “Are you ashamed to have a tug every now and then too?”

  “Stop it.”

  “It’s natural.”

  “I—”

  “The other day you were in the bathroom for half an hour. I bet I know what you were up to.”

  Clarice was looking him up and down invasively. Teo felt comfortable with the distance between them. He wanted to end the conversation, talk about less awkward subjects. He masturbated when he felt the need but avoided thinking about specific women. Ever since he’d met Clarice, he’d avoided thinking about her. He thought it was disrespectful. Naked, holding his stiff penis, he felt like an ogre, an animal on the loose.