“Helena thinks the same thing, but I don’t agree.” The detective shrugged. “You’re going to be summoned to report to the police station.”
Teo wanted to say something, but a cavernous sigh came out of his mouth. He felt too weak to answer back, move, or leave. It was like revenge, a nightmare that was becoming real.
“I don’t want to talk to you anymore,” he finally managed to say.
“Okay, son.” The detective smiled and gave him two little pats on the shoulder before disappearing down the corridor.
Teo realized his hands were shaking and closed his eyes. He wanted to chase after the detective, but couldn’t think of anything else to say. When he opened his eyes again, he looked at Clarice—so pale—and murmured, his voice full of bitterness, “I won’t be caught, I can’t be caught . . .”
• • •
He stopped at a bar near the hospital and ordered two shots of whiskey with no ice. He thought about what would happen if he didn’t do anything and what could happen if he did. Looking at things from the police’s perspective, he’d seemed guilty from the start. Unanswered calls, a car accident, and Clarice hurt—it was all very obvious and led the detective straight to him. He felt antagonistic and helpless at the same time. He chided himself for not having turned on Clarice’s laptop after they left Ilha Grande. He didn’t know what she had written while he was handcuffed to the bed, but she had probably written about the handcuffs, the Thyolax, or worse—a message full of resentment and lies.
He saw his reflection in the tabletop, his downturned mouth and desolate eyes. He had been stupid and he despised stupidity more than anything. At the end of the day, he was guilty. He had risked so much to have Clarice; from the moment they’d met, he’d felt as if she were already his.
He understood the situation perfectly: Clarice didn’t care for him. It was vaguely consoling that Helena and Gustavo were behind him, but it wasn’t enough for him to feel at peace. Clarice had never wanted anything to do with him—that was the truth. Their time together, his dedication and effort, it was all going to go down the drain. If she stayed in a coma for months, perhaps years, she still wouldn’t belong to him. If she woke up, she’d tell the police everything. Either way Teo couldn’t see anything but defeat. Imagining her dead was less painful.
He paid the bill half drunk. He moved easily, feeling brave enough to do what had to be done. He walked straight into the hospital because he hadn’t returned his visitor’s ID when he left. When he got to the ICU, he already felt different, a little odd but happy, as if nothing were real. He often felt as if he were living in a film, with people on the other side of the world watching his every move via cameras that were left on twenty-four hours a day.
The hospital seemed emptier at that hour. Visiting hours were almost over, and the doctors were changing shifts. The lights in the corridor cast a milky-white beam of light into Clarice’s ward. Teo looked around before closing the curtain. The beeping was bothering him and seemed louder now. He was a little dizzy but focused his attention on the machines that were keeping Clarice alive, fed by dozens of wires attached to her arms, nostrils, and neck.
He silenced the vital signs alarm and mechanical ventilator. He leaned over, stroked her face—her skin was cold—and disconnected the ventilator. The silence perturbed him for a moment, but her heart rate sped up on the monitor.
Clarice writhed. She breathed in agony, lashed out with her arms. It was horrible to watch—his penance, he thought.
He was gripped by a feeling he’d never experienced before, and he realized he couldn’t go through with it. Clarice wasn’t like Breno. He reconnected the ventilator and turned up the fraction of inspired oxygen to one hundred percent.
The alarms sounded loudly and doctors hurried in, pushing him aside. “Respiratory failure!” one of them shouted.
Teo didn’t hear anything else. His body obliged him to move. He left the hospital, walked through the streets, and before he knew it, he was home. He locked himself in his room, where he cried a lot, not really knowing why. Patricia knocked on his door. He didn’t want to talk to her or anyone else. Gustavo, Helena, Aquino, or Breno. If he’d had a loaded gun right then, he’d have put a bullet through his head just to be free.
When his mother finally let him be, Teo raced to the bathroom and swallowed a Hypnolid tablet. His whole body twitched as if his soul were doing somersaults in the air, but he knew he needed to rest. He fell asleep thinking that everything was completely and utterly wrong.
31
His head hurt. The detective’s questions had really gotten to him, and he’d ended up doing the wrong thing, he concluded. He felt as if he were rotting on the inside. His desire to kill Clarice had been petty, and he had given in to it all too easily. He’d been drinking, but that was no excuse. There were probably security cameras in the hospital corridors, and by now everyone would know what he’d done. He imagined the desolate expression on Helena’s face and Patricia’s reaction—his mother’s life depended on him, and now all was lost.
He didn’t even know if Clarice was still alive. He hoped so. There was no way he could call the hospital or Helena. He’d been so distressed that he barely knew the facts. What would he say? He didn’t know if there were cameras or what state Clarice was in. He had a noose around his neck. The image amused him.
He got dressed, and when he opened the door, he found Patricia brimming with questions and advice. He stepped around her, pushed the wheelchair into a corner, and left, feeling free, savoring the importance of the gesture. Patricia was a dead weight and didn’t know it. She needed to know it and to rethink the way she treated him. It was the only way they’d ever be able to live in harmony.
The day was cloudy and cool. Teo walked along heedlessly, taking the same route as he had the day before. He made it to the hospital in twenty minutes. Helena and Gustavo smiled at him—or was it just his imagination? They were talking to a doctor. Clarice was still in her bed covered in wires.
“You saved her life,” said Helena, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
Gustavo greeted him too, and Teo was perplexed. He thought he was surrounded by madmen. The doctor explained that they had noticed he’d increased Clarice’s fraction of oxygen during her episode of respiratory failure and that it had saved her from becoming a vegetable—and perhaps even death. Gustavo and Helena were very happy with him, and even the doctor congratulated him. It was nice to have people fawning over him.
Teo was so happy that even if Clarice stayed in a coma forever, it wouldn’t be a bad thing. He could visit her once or twice a week and imagine all the things they’d do together.
“After yesterday’s fright, Clarice’s condition has improved,” said the doctor. “She should recover in a few days.”
Helena decided that Teo should have lunch with her again, this time with Gustavo. She was the kind of person who demonstrated her happiness by eating. She chose a very expensive restaurant in Leblon and ordered wine. At the table, Teo had to make up a last-minute story about the previous day. He tried to be discreet, since his heroic deed was already impressive in and of itself. He was tired and came to the conclusion that he didn’t want to lie, deceive, or pretend anymore. It was possible that Clarice would wake up in a few days, and it barely mattered to him. He’d enjoy the Manhães family while he could. Later, if they all hated him and wanted to see him behind bars, what did it matter? He didn’t regret what he’d done. He’d done everything for Clarice, and it was up to her to appreciate it. If she preferred to turn him in, fine. He’d know she was well, and that was enough. If she were dead, he’d have nothing.
• • •
Teo excused himself to answer his cell. They had already finished their main course, and only Helena had wanted dessert. It was Patricia, giving him a tongue-lashing. She said she didn’t recognize this new Teo. He loved the expression. He thought about replying that he was very hap
py as this new Teo but merely apologized for having left so quickly and told her the news. Patricia was taken aback. She said she was proud of him, but still upset. Teo promised to cook for her later.
When he returned to the table, Helena was alone and had already paid for lunch.
“Gustavo’s gone to get the car.”
Teo sat down and put his cell in his pocket.
“The detective is suspicious of Clarice and me,” he said. He had wanted to tell her when they first sat down but had felt inhibited in Gustavo’s presence. There was no one else around now, and the waiters were chatting near the cash register.
“Nothing will happen.”
Teo wished he could be as sure as Helena.
She ate the last spoonful of her petit gateau and looked at him. “Why are you so worried?”
“The detective let on that he was sure. He said I’d be summoned.”
“He doesn’t have anything on you and is just trying to bait you. You’d think Rio de Janeiro was a peaceful city and he didn’t have anything better to do.”
“What if he summons me?”
She chuckled. “You just go and tell them your story.”
“Does Gustavo know the truth?”
“You’ve never seen Breno, and Breno never went to our place after he and Clarice broke up. My husband knows that truth.”
Teo felt pathetic. It was actually quite funny that he was so bothered by the detective, while Clarice’s possible recovery didn’t worry him in the slightest.
Gustavo came in to say the car was outside. They were back at the hospital in thirteen minutes. Gustavo looked at Teo affectionately.
Teo was annoyed that he couldn’t tell him the truth. Ethically speaking, he didn’t see any problem with what he’d done: accidentally killing Breno, who had forced his way into their chalet holding a knife. He understood that it was reprehensible—even criminal—from the police’s point of view, but Gustavo was very different from the police. Teo would be ashamed to tell him, not because of what he’d done but because he’d lied about it. But his fear was justifiable, as well as his contempt for Breno’s actions. He imagined Gustavo would be shocked at first but would eventually understand and forgive him.
Teo stood next to the bed thinking about how to broach the subject, but didn’t get around to saying anything because he saw Laura coming down the corridor, and his stomach tightened. He recognized her immediately. He’d never forget the disgusting almond-shaped eyes that had persuaded Clarice to do outrageous things. She was holding four ugly roses wrapped in colorful paper. She eyed Teo curiously. He tried to control himself, but it was impossible. It took a lot of cheek and falseness to show her face after everything that had happened.
He walked up to her and grabbed her arm forcefully. “Come with me.”
Teo didn’t know how she’d managed to get in; after all, Clarice already had the maximum number of visitors allowed by the hospital. Nonetheless, Laura had somehow got herself a visitor’s ID. She was definitely the sort who got what she wanted by devious means.
“What are you doing?” shouted Laura when they were halfway down the corridor. She was small, like Clarice, but nasty. She wore her black hair plaited like an Indian, which made her look even more pathetic. Teo didn’t want to talk to her, but forced himself to say, “Get out of here, and don’t come back.”
“Who are you to—”
“I’m Clarice’s fiancé.” He waved his ring at her. “You don’t need to introduce yourself. I know who you are and what you did with her. She’s put all that behind her now.”
People in the hospital were staring at them, some concerned, others amused.
“I read your text messages, and Clarice told me what happened in Lapa. You should go look for a husband.” Teo went back to the ICU.
Laura didn’t dare put in another appearance, which made him happy. She was a terrible influence. He was certain he’d done the right thing by kicking her out. Helena and Gustavo didn’t say anything, but it was clear to Teo that they agreed with him.
• • •
Dinner with Patricia was silent and subtly pleasant. He tried to make cordial conversation, which was the cue for Patricia to bring up the new Teo and how she was disappointed with the choices he’d been making. She went so far as to say that she’d hoped for a studious son, not a skirt-chasing fool.
Teo left the table. Couldn’t she at least be grateful for the dinner?
A few minutes later Patricia came to the door of his room. “I’m sorry. I know you’re suffering.”
He accepted her apology and told her what had happened at the hospital earlier.
Patricia laughed a lot. “I still don’t understand why you kicked the girl out. What did she do to Clarice?”
Teo couldn’t tell her that Clarice was homosexual, bisexual, or whatever she was—he’d given up trying to figure it out. “I don’t know. Clarice didn’t like her.”
“Aren’t you curious to know why?”
“No.”
“When Clarice wakes up, try to find out. I know you don’t like it when I say it, but I’ve still got that bad feeling. The girl still bothers me.”
“When Clarice wakes up, I’m going to marry her and live my life,” he said, really hoping he was right.
Patricia left the room in a huff.
Teo reflected that since his father’s death, she had been a well of bitterness. There was all that talk about feelings and premonitions and her trying to persuade him to do what she wanted. First the incident with Breno, then Clarice’s suicide attempt, and then the car accident. What else could happen?
• • •
It was Tuesday morning. Teo was in the hospital cafeteria with Gustavo, talking about soccer, a subject about which he knew very little. Gustavo’s cell rang, and he answered it in a hurry. It was Helena.
“She’s awake, she’s awake!” Teo heard. Gustavo didn’t need to say a thing.
They hurried down the corridors to the ICU. Clarice was beautiful, very pale, her face sleepy, her eyes half closed. Helena was crying, holding her daughter’s hands, and Gustavo ran to embrace them.
At that instant, Teo understood that it was the end of the road for him, but he was satisfied knowing he would love her forever. He wasn’t nervous; all he felt was a light pain at the nape of his neck.
When Clarice looked up at him, the pain in his neck left him too. She stared at him with unprecedented interest. She glanced briefly at Helena and Gustavo and then back at Teo, a little confused.
“I’m sorry, but . . . who are you?”
32
Clarice knew her name but was confused about her age. She was very upset when Helena told her about the car accident. She couldn’t remember having seen Teo before, or what had happened in the previous month or year. She had very fresh memories of her childhood, her parents, and her Catholic high school, but recent events had been completely erased: the Perfect Days screenplay, her studies in art history, and the death of her paternal grandfather two years earlier. She seemed truly perplexed that she was engaged.
The questions were many and came from all sides. He was afraid that Clarice would remember everything and accuse him, but her expression was so hesitant that Teo could tell she was being sincere. He wanted to kiss her and massage her shoulders but held back. Helena was still crying a lot. Everyone was shocked to learn that Clarice’s legs had been paralyzed in the car accident.
Clarice received a lot of presents and visitors. The presents came accompanied by cards that got on Teo’s nerves, signed by friends he’d never heard of. How was it possible that she knew so many people? He didn’t even like to touch the cards. He tore them up without showing them to anyone.
When Clarice was released, they fell into a routine. They spent a lot of time together at her parents’ place in Jardim Botânico. She was shy at first, but he gave her s
pace, and they talked a lot to recover their intimacy. Almost every night Teo would come over with a present for her: a book, a pair of sunglasses, or a bottle of perfume. They talked about cinema and theater and watched lots of films together. Her interests remained basically the same, although she hadn’t shown any taste for cigarettes or women. She loved Little Miss Sunshine, which was now her favorite film.
Little by little he and Clarice grew closer, and it was lovely, as Clarice was really making an effort to like him. She laughed at the things he said and liked hearing about his plans for the future. She kissed him on the lips of her own free will. She didn’t ask a lot, just questions to satisfy her female curiosity: how they’d met, when he’d asked her to marry him, what the trip to Teresópolis had been like, things like that. The advantage of her lack of memory was that he could tell her whatever he wanted; he exaggerated the details in order to make it all sound poetic and inevitable. They had fallen deeply in love and were destined to be together.
Teo was required to report to the police station one Friday morning. He answered the same questions as before and left satisfied, feeling that Detective Inspector Aquino was completely lost. It had been impossible to recover the content of the broken laptop, their cell phone records didn’t indicate anything, and well, what exactly was the problem with transporting an empty suitcase in the trunk? Clarice was summoned too, but Helena obtained a court order granting her permission not to participate in the inquiry, since she was in no condition psychologically to participate. Teo thought Detective Aquino would insist on her testimony, but he didn’t.
A few weeks later Breno’s disappearance had been forgotten. Other mysteries came along to occupy the police—mysteries with bodies. Breno’s disappearance would go down on that list of stories that begin to sound like fables with the passing years: the violinist who went missing after being dumped by his girlfriend. Many would assume he was somewhere else in the world—in Rome or Florence—performing in public squares. Others might think Teo had murdered him. But there was no proof. And no one seemed terribly interested in the matter now.
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