Perfect Days

by Raphael Montes

  He couldn’t be bothered thinking about Marli and the negative energy she brought with her. He remembered his tiny bedroom, the smell of mold, and its abandoned appearance. He didn’t miss his bed, the furniture, or his medical books. He didn’t want to go back to that life, and yet suddenly, there he was.

  “I’m so glad, son. I prayed to God so much. I went to . . .” Patricia kept talking for several minutes. She took some bead necklaces out of her bag and showed him, saying that Marli had taught her how to make them. She had already sold three of them at church. Then she talked about the latest happenings at church and Marli’s exhibitions in downtown Rio and Niterói. Teo was glad she wouldn’t stop talking. The trivia comforted him.

  “Now you say something,” she said finally. “Tell me about the crash.”

  Teo racked his brains, searching his memory, but the images were vague. He tried to recall odors, urges, impressions. He remembered his state of mind—it wasn’t that different from what he was feeling at that moment. The number of missed calls on his cell had alarmed him, and truth be told, he hadn’t been paying a lot of attention to the road.

  And there was Clarice’s embrace—he remembered that too. But he wasn’t certain about the intention behind it. Had Clarice awakened and launched herself at him, deliberately causing him to lose control of the car? Or had it been a reaction to her bad dream and his poking her? He saw her with clenched teeth, eyes wide open in a cruel gaze, as she held his arms so he’d crash the Vectra. But he knew it was just his imagination.

  “It was an accident,” said Teo. “Clarice was asleep and had a bad dream. She was frightened and grabbed me. She didn’t see what she was doing.”

  “Oh my God!” Patricia put the necklaces back into her bag.

  Teo realized he hadn’t said anything about them. To be honest, he thought they were pretty ugly.

  “I hope she recovers quickly. Were you really happy?”

  “Very.”

  Patricia’s watery gaze came to rest on a point above Teo’s head, and when he looked up, he saw a clock there. It was almost three o’clock in the morning.

  “‘Love is only beautiful when we find someone who makes us the best we can be,’” Patricia said. “It’s by Mário Quintana.”

  Teo didn’t care for poetry, but he liked hearing it.

  “Do you think this girl’s made you into something better?”

  With Clarice, he’d felt things he couldn’t believe. Compassion. Reticence. Guilt. Regret. Love. She had made him human.

  “I love Clarice, Mother.”

  “I don’t think she’s the right person for you. But that’s all I’ll say.”

  Patricia shrugged and turned her wheelchair. She looked like a jittery cockroach limping about the room.

  “I don’t have anything against her. But remember that dream I told you about? I dreamed that something bad was going to happen. Samson died. You were in this accident. And Clarice’s ex-boyfriend seems to have gone missing too.”

  “So I heard.”

  The subject didn’t interest him. He was very certain of what he had to say, which was almost nothing.

  “The detective handling the case stopped by yesterday morning. He wanted to talk to you.”

  “To me?”

  “Yes.”

  Teo was annoyed that he had to talk about Breno. It was as if an invisible thread had bound their lives together in a tacky soap opera plot.

  “I don’t know how I can help.”

  “It all started with that girl, son. Don’t you see?”

  “No.”

  “I still can’t swallow what happened to Samson. And now you’ve gone and got engaged. It worries me.”

  Teo looked at his hand and saw the engagement ring he had bought. Perhaps it had been a little too much, but he didn’t say anything. He wanted his mother to disappear right there and then. It was very mulish of her to interrogate him in his hospital bed. What did Samson’s death matter at that moment?

  Patricia wheeled herself toward the door. “I’m going to get some juice. Do you want anything?”

  Teo realized that the conversation had become unbearable for both of them. “I don’t want anything.”

  “Then rest,” she said. “Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

  • • •

  He didn’t fall asleep immediately. He wanted to get up and run away, but being stuck in the hospital room had its advantages. Except for Patricia pestering him, it was better to be isolated than not. Just imagining Helena’s stupid expression and all the questions she would ask exhausted him. His thoughts wandered, deliberately wavering between the real and the impossible—he went so far as to think: What if Breno had never been born? He reveled in the idea.

  Teo mused that Clarice hadn’t shouted anything at him and therefore came to the conclusion that it really had been an accident. She’d had a bad dream—perhaps about Breno—and had sought comfort in his arms. Now she was in a coma somewhere, needing help: his help. He was vaguely satisfied and drifted into a pleasant sleep, as if he were lying on clouds.

  When he opened his eyes, it was daytime. There was light in the room and a landscape of dilapidated buildings could be seen through the window. He recognized his mother’s voice. She was talking to a man.

  “The detective would like to talk to you,” said Patricia, sounding strangely cheerful. When he looked at the man, Teo understood: she was attracted to him. He was bald and very thin, like his late father. There was something in his smile, a kindness for which Patricia was thirsty.

  “Please, I’d prefer to talk to Teo in private,” the detective said. There was a tone of candor and also a certain decorum in his voice. “Thank you for keeping me company.”

  Patricia left the room immediately. The detective continued to smile as he approached the bed. He was wearing jeans and a flannel shirt. Outside the hospital air-conditioning, Rio de Janeiro was boiling.

  “I’m Detective Inspector Aquino from the Twelfth Police District here in Copacabana, but you can call me Aquino.”

  Teo was surprised Patricia hadn’t mentioned that they were so close to home. It was comforting.

  “I know you woke up during the night and are recovering,” said the detective. “I don’t want to impose, but I need to ask a few questions. Is that okay?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “I’m investigating the disappearance of Breno Santana Cavalcante. Do you know who he is?”

  “Clarice’s ex-boyfriend.”

  “That’s right, son.”

  The detective took a photograph out of his pocket. It had been cropped from a larger image and showed a happy Breno, wearing a jacket and wool scarf. His smile looked like as if it had been drawn on, and Teo understood why his parents had chosen that photo to give to the police. Breno looked especially good in it, and the disappearance of someone good-looking elicits pity.

  He waited for the detective to ask something.

  “Do you know Breno?”

  “Clarice mentioned him, but I’ve never met him. Actually, I didn’t know what he looked like until now.”

  “What do you think about him?”

  “A typical ex. A bit inconvenient perhaps.”

  “Did he bother you?”

  “Clarice made it clear that they’d broken up, and that was enough for me.”

  “Do you know why they broke up?”

  “I’m not sure, as we didn’t talk about that kind of thing. But I think he was kind of domineering.”

  “Domineering?”

  “I read some of his messages on Clarice’s cell. They were manipulative, looking for pity. At some point, she stopped answering them.”

  “When was that?”

  “November last year. End of November, I think.”

  “Breno’s cell is missing too, but we are trying
to recover his call history,” said the detective. Teo noticed that his dead-fish eyes didn’t miss a thing. “How did you and Clarice meet?”

  “At a barbecue. A few days later she went to Teresópolis and took me with her.”

  “Did you decide to take off out of the blue?”

  “No. It was arranged in advance. Clarice’s a screenwriter. We went to a hotel where she likes to write.”

  “Dwarf Lake Farm Hotel.”

  Teo had avoided mentioning the name of the hotel and was unsettled that the detective had the information on the tip of his tongue.

  “After that, where did you go?”

  “We slept in a motel and then went to Ilha Grande.”

  “Why the change of plans?”

  “There wasn’t a change. Clarice is writing a screenplay for a road movie called Perfect Days. The characters travel to Teresópolis, Ilha Grande, and Paraty. They spend the night in a motel too. We followed the same itinerary as in the screenplay.”

  The detective’s face was impassive. The story sounded surreal, even though it was true.

  “Did you know Breno had disappeared?”

  “Helena mentioned it to me over the phone after you talked to her.”

  “And what did Clarice think about it?”

  “I didn’t tell her. She was writing her screenplay, on a kind of retreat.”

  “That’s the reason you didn’t tell her anything?”

  Teo didn’t like the tone the conversation was taking. He hadn’t told Clarice anything because he didn’t want to involve Breno in their relationship and because he didn’t think anyone would take the story seriously for very long.

  “I didn’t even know Breno,” he snapped. “I had no reason to worry about him. I thought maybe he’d decided to take off for a while, go chill out somewhere.”

  “I called your cells several times.”

  “There was no phone reception in Teresópolis or on Ilha Grande. To be honest, I thought Breno was going to turn up quickly.”

  “He still hasn’t turned up, son.”

  Teo hated that the detective was calling him son.

  “Breno went missing on the first of December. Where were you and Clarice that day?”

  “At the hotel in Teresópolis, I think.”

  “It’d be nice if you were sure.”

  Teo snorted a kind of laugh. “No one pays attention to dates when they’re on vacation, do they?”

  “It may be important.”

  “Are we suspected of something?”

  “Oh, no, nothing like that!” The detective gestured vaguely with his hands. “As soon as Clarice wakes up, we’ll talk to her too. I’ve been stopping by there every day.”

  “How is she?”

  “In a coma, as I think you know. It looks like she’s stabilizing. I certainly hope so.”

  The detective gave him his best smile, and Teo was obliged to smile too.

  “Clarice’s doctor told me she had some stitches on her body from before the accident. And some fresh scars.”

  “She hurt herself on Ilha Grande. She hit a rock when she was swimming.” Teo had already thought about the answer to that question.

  “Anything serious?”

  “Not really. I’m a medical student. I sutured the cuts. We were on a deserted beach, and there wasn’t anything else I could do.”

  “How did you get to the deserted beach?”

  “We contacted a local woman who had a cottage to rent. She took us there on a boat.”

  “Do you know the woman’s name? Where can I find her?”

  “Gertrude,” said Teo. He felt ridiculously vulnerable now. He thought about his friend Gertrude and the comfort she would have brought him at that moment. He decided never to tell anyone else about her. Their relationship was in the past, and it was something private. He regretted having mentioned her to Clarice when they were in Teresópolis. “I don’t know where she lives.”

  “Okay. What were Clarice’s injuries on the rock?”

  “A few cuts on her back and feet. A really deep one in her left buttock.”

  The detective took notes. There was such an uncomfortable silence that Teo thought he’d finished, or that he was thinking about something else.

  “Two accidents in a short period of time. That’s a lot of bad luck, don’t you think?”

  “I don’t believe in bad luck.” Teo spoke slowly, as if he were very sure of what he was saying and didn’t care what anyone else thought. Nevertheless he had to face the fact that the detective might suspect something, and the idea was making him nervous.

  “I see that you and Clarice are engaged. I hope things get sorted out and you get married soon.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re going to have to buy a new ring. I noticed yesterday that Clarice’s is missing.”

  “What happened?” asked Teo before the detective could. Clarice had no doubt thrown it away on Ilha Grande, and he hadn’t noticed.

  “I thought you knew.”

  “I don’t think it’s got anything to do with Breno.”

  “Let’s see, son. Let’s see.”

  They talked for a few more minutes. The detective wanted details about the car accident and Clarice’s screenplay. He also asked for the name of the motel. Finally, he said he might be back the next day and left a card with his phone number at the police station.

  Teo’s body felt very flushed and his self-consciousness about his physical reaction made him even more exasperated. He said good-bye dryly, even though he didn’t want to be rude.

  Patricia had the tact not to ask any questions. She made bead necklaces in silence all afternoon. Teo’s mind was awhirl. He came to the conclusion that he hadn’t done so badly. After all, what did the detective have on him? It was strange that Aquino hadn’t mentioned the handcuffs and arm and leg separators, but that didn’t mean much. Teo closed his eyes, still depressed but unflustered. He had a feeling no one was going to catch him, no matter what.

  29

  The detective didn’t show up the next morning, which seemed to disappoint Patricia. Shortly after lunch, Teo was released. He still felt pain in his legs and torso, as if his body had been put through a grinder, but he didn’t complain. He wanted to visit Clarice. Patricia refused vehemently, and he agreed to go home. They took a taxi, which made Teo remember the Vectra.

  “Totaled,” his mother said.

  The sun was coming through the window, illuminating the wrinkles on Patricia’s face. Teo was amazed that the world was exactly the same as before. As he walked into the flat, he cast his eyes over the furniture, unconsciously expecting Samson to appear and come sniff his legs. Depression hit him.

  He headed for the kitchen, convinced that if he went into his room, he’d be returning to his boring life. Soon he’d be cleaning windows and pushing Patricia to church in her wheelchair again. The thought made him feel a little desperate. He drank a glass of water, opened and closed the refrigerator. He undressed and climbed into the shower. The water was very cold. All he could think about was his old life and the life he’d had with Clarice. He also thought about the fact that she was full of tubes somewhere, and that Patricia refused to take him to see her, and that made him feel even worse.

  He lay down in the dark, remembering the time he’d spent in the bed with Clarice. It was very different now. There was a smell of imminent tragedy in the air—feelings had specific odors, and he was able to detect them sometimes.

  Patricia ordered a pizza. Teo ate only two slices and watched TV, but the soap opera dramas made him impatient.

  “You look worried,” said Patricia.

  “I am a bit.”

  “I’ll take you to see her tomorrow.”

  He thanked her and fibbed that he was tired.

  He thought about what to say to Helen
a when he saw her. They’d met only once, but he had spoken to her on the phone enough to want to avoid her. He considered visiting Clarice when Helena wasn’t there, but she was probably by her daughter’s side the whole time, and at any rate he had no way of knowing when she wasn’t there. He tossed and turned in bed, and his sense of foreboding didn’t leave him for a second.

  The biggest pain in the neck when caring for a disabled person was that the disability slowed everything down. It took them ten minutes to change a pair of trousers, fifteen to go to the toilet, and more than half an hour to get a taxi with wheelchair access. Visiting hours had started an hour earlier, and Teo walked up the hospital ramp pushing Patricia’s wheelchair as she said something about a news item on highway accidents that she’d seen on TV. It was getting harder and harder to smile at her. He realized his reactions were delayed, but realizing it didn’t make any difference. He still felt awful. He fiddled with the ring on his finger and told the receptionist he was the patient’s fiancée.

  “Only one more person can go in,” she told him, handing him a visitor’s ID.

  The hospital was very organized, with tight security and fingerprint identification. Clarice must have been transferred there right after the accident, he observed. The Manhães family wouldn’t have left their daughter in a public hospital for very long. Teo had to park Patricia in a corner, but she’d brought her bead necklaces.

  He walked down the corridor, very alert. His love of medicine came flooding back to him. How was it possible that he’d forgotten that feeling and been able to think only about Clarice? He walked into the ICU and spotted her cubicle a few yards away.

  He could barely see her, lying under sheets, hooked up to monitors and an oxygen panel, but he recognized Helena. She looked defeated and exhausted, slumped over her daughter’s bed. Teo’s eyes widened, and he shook slightly, although he knew his fear didn’t make any sense: Helena was just a desperate mother.

  He thought about leaving, but she lifted her head and fixed her eyes on him.

  “What did you do to my daughter?”

  It was hard to get his thoughts in order. Without realizing it, he took three steps back. There was a man with Helena who he assumed was Clarice’s father. Those were the people responsible for giving life to the woman he loved. Both of them looked completely spent. The man hugged Helena from behind and patted her shoulders.