Two Sides of Me

by Nora Sarel

  “It’s not good to talk here, we’ll talk inside, come in” the woman said. She seemed frightened but understood why they were looking for her which is why she was unwilling to have everyone hear their conversation.

  Gadi felt his heart breaking and his legs weakening. “I’m not going in, I can’t walk,” he whispered, but only Omri heard him. He felt as if he was losing control, his lips and throat were dry. He wanted to speak but could barely do it.

  “How old are you?” Liam asked the boy who stood next to his mother. He wore the Brazilian National Team’s jersey and held a soccer ball made of colorful leather stripes.

  But the boy only laughed. “He can’t understand you,” his mother explained and answered, “ten years old.” The boy listened, trying to see if he could comprehend something, but couldn’t understand a word.

  Gadi stayed behind with Omri. “Come in already,” Liam called, “she wants to close the door, otherwise, the whole neighborhood will come in.”

  They complied with his commands.

  “So, you’re Nessia,” Liam stated, and she, busy with arranging the chairs, wouldn’t answer.

  When they sat on the plastic chair, Gadi could see his parents sitting in the exact same place, listening to Nessia’s speech. However, the woman then said, “I’m not Nessia.” Gadi was immediately relieved, his legs stopped shaking, his throat was no longer dry, and both his vocal chords and heartbeat were steady again.

  “Where is Nessia then?” Liam asked rudely.

  “What do you want from her?”

  “I’m her son,” Gadi said, and surprised even himself. “Nessia é minhamãe.”

  The woman, who was still sitting, stood up, walked over to Gadi and started both crying and laughing. “I’m excited,” she explained, “I had a feeling one of you was Nessia’s son. My mother and grandmother told me she had a beautiful boy and that she gave him away to wealthy people from Terra Santa – Holy Land. They were good for the baby and Grandma was very happy he would grow up with Jews and be as smart as they are.”

  “How are you related?”

  “I’m her sister. Well, half-sister, only on our mother’s side,” she said while kissing Gadi who sat on the plastic chair and couldn’t move.

  “And where does she live now?” Liam asked.

  “Because of the distance we barely know each other and we’re not in touch. She’s older than I am, and we never lived under the same roof. When I came to live here with my grandmother, she had already left. She got married and lives in Recife. I don’t have her exact address, but I know that Dona Anna, from the shelter, is in touch with her.”

  “Which Dona Anna? The one from the diary?” Omri jumped with enthusiasm.

  “Relax,” Gadi reproached him, “we’re talking about real people here, not fictional characters from a novel.”

  “Dona Anna is no longer running the shelter,” she went on, “she’s too old, but she still lives there. She’s blind and can hardly walk, but her mind is still clear. Everyone knows that Dona Anna is a good woman. She would love to help you.”

  Gadi slowly opened up and placed his fingers on her hand which was resting on his shoulder. “How do you say ‘aunt’ in Portuguese?” he suddenly asked Liam.

  “Tia,” he replied.

  “Você é minhatia – you are my aunt.” Gadi turned to look at her and then asked, “Does Nessia have any children?”

  “I think she does, but I don’t know,” she replied.

  However, Liam interrupted her and said, “We can leave that for tomorrow, we need to go, it’s late.”

  “No, we won’t leave it for tomorrow. I want to know today.” Gadi insisted, “Who are you to decide if I can ask her or not? I’m here right now and I want to know.”

  The aunt, who witnessed the tension, didn’t understand the reason for their sudden disagreement and tried to calm things down, “I don’t know a lot about her, I think she lives in Recife, Nordeste -northeast Brazil. Only Dona Anna knows the exact location,” Gadi looked at her helplessly.

  She said goodbye to them and kissed Gadi again. She opened the door widely so that the four of them could disappear as quickly as they had appeared in her life. She stood, a bit distant, and hugged her son who smiled at Gadi, as if he knew they were related.

  “Kick,” Gadi said to the boy and tried sharing a few last moments with them.

  The boy kicked the ball so hard it even scared Liam who led them to the truck.

  “Well done, if you keep it up, you’ll be a soccer player like Pelè,” Gadi complimented him, but was doubtful whether the boy understood what he had said. “If he hardly understood Liam’s Portuguese, how could he understand mine?” he said to Omri who stayed behind with him.

  When they waved them goodbye Gadi knew that although they were his biological family, he would never see them again.

  CHAPTER 12

  “How did it go yesterday?” Adi asked them without waiting for an answer. “I would join you, but I really can’t. Liam asked for some days off, there’s no way I could get time off. Someone has to work and take care of the hostel.” She laid out her troubles.

  Gadi was embarrassed. He wouldn’t have thought that Adi wanted to join their quest. Now he was convinced that she was in on it, just as he had suspected.

  Who else knew? He asked himself, maybe Ami and his wife, too? Who gave Liam permission to share personal information about me? Gadi was angry and was almost about to “fire” Liam, when Adi asked, “Were did you go yesterday? Did he take you to the Train of Death? I so want to go on a trip.” Gadi then realized that his suspicions were nothing more than figments of his imagination and Adi didn’t know a single thing about their ‘trip.’ If that was the case, then Liam was a great guy, Gadi decided.

  “What’s the Train of Death?” Ido asked.

  “It’s a train that leaves Curitiba early in the morning heading towards Paranagua and returns in the afternoon.”

  “So, why is it called the Train of Death?” Ido insisted.

  “Because it rides through tunnels, climbs mountains, descends into valleys, over chasms, all the while surrounded by very thick vegetation. It’s really scary and it’s a must,” she said.

  “We will do it,” they promised her.

  “Don’t forget to take me with you,” she smiled at Gadi.

  “She has a crush on you,” Ido said to him, trying not to be heard.

  While they were still talking, Liam came along and rushed everyone to the truck.

  “Today’s not going to be easy,” he said.

  “Where are you going today?” she asked, but before they could answer they were already driving to the shelter.

  The shelter for pregnant girls was at the Campo Comprido slum. The way was excruciating. The roads were nothing more than dust tracks packed with trucks, making it hard for Liam, who both drove and navigated, to get through. Every now and then he would stop to check the maps and make sure he was on track. Ido, who sat next to him, offered to navigate but Liam wouldn’t hear of it. He took on all responsibility and whenever he made a right call he shouted, “Good job Liam, well done!” and apologized right after, “every man for himself…”

  Throughout the drive they could mostly hear Liam who was talking to himself. It was hard to listen to him through all the noise coming into the car, although its windows were closed. Gadi kept to himself at the corner of the backseat and Ido, who sat next to him, tapped his fingers on the headrest in front him to the rhythm of the Brazilian music playing. He annoyed Liam who yelled at him to stop. Omri, despite the bumpy roads, fell into a deep sleep and whenever the car turned his head fell on Liam’s shoulder, making him even angrier. Gadi looked at all this without wanting to take part.

  The car stopped so abruptly it startled them, even woke up Omri. They suddenly saw a great herd of cows crossing the road led by a gaucho – a southern
cowherd, wearing a wide brimmed cowboy hat, holding in one hand a lasso and in the other the horse’s reins. Ido opened the window which barely budged, wanting to take it all in, however the herd’s dust clouds made him close it quickly. While waiting for the cows to cross Liam tried encouraging by singing Israeli songs, however the Brazilian radio was louder.

  He tried breaking the tension he had himself created and spoke to Gadi, “Hey, Gingie.” When Gadi didn’t answer, he continued, “Hey, Red, what are you dreaming about? You could have been a gaucho if you had lived here, too,” he was sure his joke would make them laugh, but their reaction was quite the opposite. Ido froze, but Omri wouldn’t keep quiet, “If he would have stayed here he wouldn’t have to listen to the nonsense you keep spewing.” The silence that suddenly fell was as thick as the dust clouds. After two hours of driving, which seemed much longer, they reached the neighborhood and asked where could they find Dona Anna’s shelter. In a matter of seconds their car was surrounded by a multitude of children, all of whom could point to the big stone building located at a nearby street corner.

  The very moment they rang the bell, the building’s gate opened, and they walked into the entrance hall. They were greeted by a young woman who was unexpectedly wearing everyday clothes. She had a big smile as she asked them “Tudo bom? “ “Tudo,” they answered.

  “I’m the shelter’s manager,” she introduced herself.

  “Pode falar com Dona Anna? – can we speak with Dona Anna?” they asked.

  “Por favor – very well, I will go and ask her if she can see you. Who should I say is asking for her?”

  “Tell her we’re from Israel and we would like to meet her with regard to a baby boy whose mother stayed here and gave him up for adoption,” Liam spoke for them.

  “Is everything all right with him?”

  “Yes, yes.”

  “Espere momentino– wait here for a moment,” she said and headed to the cluster of rooms. While waiting for Dona Anna, several young girls, all pregnant, passed across the hall. Their hair was neatly combed, and they wore clean summer clothes. They were puzzled to see the guests who had arrived that morning.

  “It looks like a hotel,” Ido said.

  “But it isn’t” Gadi said. He could imagine Nessia walking around the halls while he was in her belly. Was she happy here? He asked himself, but was then soothed by the notion she had meant to raise him herself.

  The shelter seemed well kept and pleasant. A silver plaque with the writing S.O.S CORPO confirmed this was indeed the right place. Gadi was embarrassed by the sign, it made him feel as though he owed his life to this place. These thoughts haunted him since that morning, and he didn’t now how to deal with it. Suddenly, Liam approached him, placed his hand on Gadi’s shoulders and said, “I apologize if I offended you, I didn’t mean to.”

  “It’s OK, I know,” was what Gadi wanted to say, but Ido, who started losing his patience, interrupted them, “she sure is taking her time.”

  “When they say ‘momentino’,”Liam said, “they don’t exactly mean to say ‘a moment.’ “

  “Maybe Dona Anna doesn’t want to talk to us?” Gadi wondered. They walked through the entrance hall and inspected the rooms. The rumor of their arrival had spread and each girl in turn came to peek and giggled.

  “You can go up to Dona Anna’s room,” they suddenly heard the manager’s low voice.

  “Muito Obrigado – thank you very much,” they answered embarrassed, as if she had caught them red-handed, and began following her.

  She carefully opened one of the doors and gestured them to enter. The four stood in a row next to the entrance. The room had a sense of asceticism, its greenish walls were bare, having only an unpolished simple wooden cross. On their left was a narrow bed, on which was a sheet-less mattress. A small square table was placed beside it and partially covered by a white doily. By the window, on a chair with a straw backrest, sat an old woman dressed in nun clothes and looked out. “This is Dona Anna,” the manager said and the woman turned to face them. “She cannot see you, she is blind,” she whispered, “but her hearing is great. Please, tell her what brings you here.” Once again, Liam took over the speaking part and explained in articulate Portuguese the reason they had come to her.

  “And which is Dona Nessia’s boy?” she asked.

  Liam pushed Gadi forward and said, “here he is.”

  “Dona Nessia is a dear friend of mine. I love her and keep in touch with her.”

  “Do you meet her? Can I see her, too?” Gadi interrupted her.

  “No, dear, she lives very far away, in north-east Brazil. We talk over the phone every once in a while, but mostly write to one another. She’s a good woman.”

  Dona Anna stopped for a moment, she seemed weary, yet, she would not give up and tried with all her might to fill her shriveled body with oxygen. She struggled to inhale what little air she could, paused for a moment and then continued, “What color are your eyes?”

  “I have green eyes – olhos verdes,” Gadi replied.

  “I knew this would be their color, come, come closer Bernardo,” Dona Anna asked.

  “There’s no Bernardo here,” Liam said decisively.

  “There is,” Gadi silenced him. “That’s me. That’s the name Nessia gave me,” he explained in Hebrew to Ido and Liam.

  “Come here, son,” Dona Anna repeated her request softly. “Sit next to me, I was first to hold you when you were born, I’m your madrinha– godmother. I was with your mother at the hospital when you were born. I brought you here, to this room, when you were just three days old. I would like to caress you again, touch you as I did when you were a baby.”

  “Please, continue, I want to hear more,” Gadi asked while holding her hand.

  “You were such an amazing child, and when the people from Terra Santa came to our shelter, I really wanted them to adopt you. Adoption has a special meaning, like an oath. The parents who adopted you, made a commitment to protect you forever, to keep you from harm. I trusted them and am sure they did not fail me.” She spoke quietly, using simple English spiced with words in Portuguese. Her blind eyes wept.

  “What a pity I can’t see you,” she said to Gadi. Then she raised her head to the sky, her hands stretched up to the heavens, and prayed to God, “Please, God, just give me one moment of sight so I can see Bernardo.” She then crossed herself and said, “I must have sinned and God is punishing me.” All four stood there, not speaking nor moving, barely breathing the room’s thin air, as if wanting to save it for Dona Anna. Gadi cried. Once again, Gadi felt his legs would not carry him, his stomach churned, his heart pounded, he was in pain.

  “What is she saying?” Gadi asked Liam. He wanted to make sure he had understood her correctly. When Liam confirmed what she had said, Gadi came closer to her, leaned forward and stroked her. “Dona Anna, God loves you. How could you have sinned when you did so much good in this world?”

  He spoke in Hebrew but knew Dona Anna understood him.

  “Meu filho – oh, my son, I loved you more than anyone else. You should know your mother did not give you away willingly and I suggest you do not go looking after her.”

  “Why? Why not? Is she sick? Has she forgotten me?”

  “No.” She said decisively, “It’s not good to go poking around the past. Move forward, God wanted you to have other parents. You were shaped by those who raised you. Como pedra do rio – like a pebble molded and smoothened by the waters surrounding it.”

  “But I have to meet her, Dona Anna,” Gadi repeated his request.

  “Although Nessia birthed you, she was not the one who shaped you. Your parents are good people, we chose them for you so you would have the best you could.”

  Gadi looked at Dona Anna and his friend alternately. He felt these intimate moments were exposed to all, though he wanted them for himself. Yet, this was the price he paid. He knew
that despite the heavy price of openness he had support without which he could not have done this journey.

  “No Dona Anna, I have to meet the woman who gave birth to me. Her blood flows in my veins. I don’t want her to be my mother, I have a mother back in Israel. But I would like to see and know her. I will search for her to the end of the world. Please, just give me her address.”

  “I know in which city Nessia lives with her new family, but I don’t have the exact address. The letters I write to her are sent to the church in her city. You need to reach the church on the Olinda hill in Pernambuco, northeast Brazil. There, Father Carlos will give you her address. Tell him I sent you and he’ll know what it’s about. But remember, I warned you and requested that you don’t go rocking the boat.”

  “Thank you, Dona Anna,” Gadi called and kissed her hands.

  “Come, filho, and I’ll give you a big loving kiss.”

  Gadi came even closer and she caressed his face, as if trying to feel its features. She lingered on his chin dimple, went back to his prominent cheek bones, felt his trimmed hair which had lost all memory of the curls he disliked as a boy, and moved to his thick lips, not before she felt his bushy brows.

  The room was silent, and although his stomach ached even more, he felt good, and for a moment shut his eyes, craving for the touch of her wrinkled hands. He forgot they were being observed. He felt there were only the two of them.

  “Send my regards from Brazil to your parents and keep safe. You represent our church in Terra Santa, you’re a Jew like Jesus.” Dona Anna said and stopped abruptly. She crossed herself again and asked to end their visit. “I’m tired,” she said. Gadi hugged her tightly and pressed her to his heart so that she could barely gasp to breath, but she obliged him, kissing him over and over again. Before they left Gadi asked her, “Promise me you’ll answer my letters.”

  “I promise,” she said.

  Gadi turned to leave but Omri’s whisper made him go back to Dona Anna. “Ask her about Dana.”