Living with Saci

by M J Dees

  “How could you do it?” Mariana continued. “You know I like him. How could you?”

  “I swear nothing happened.” Teresa pleaded now becoming more and more worried about the proximity of the drone to the extremities of the tree under the margins of which they now stood.

  “But you took him home.” Mariana was unstoppable.

  “Look I think we should…” But before Teresa could say ‘move’, the drone had clipped a branch and was now plummeting towards them. “Shit!” Exclaimed Teresa just in time for Mariana to look up to see what Teresa was swearing at and catch one of the drone’s blades square in the forehead,

  Mariana and the drone fell to the ground in unison thus proving Archimedes theory. Mariana clutched her forehead; the drone lay in pieces.

  Teresa rushed to her side.

  “You OK?” She asked.

  Mariana lay sprawled on the ground, hand against forehead which she removed to check and saw the blood.

  “Jesus!” Teresa exclaimed.

  Felipe was there now, examining the wound in the epicentre of a circle of observers who had lost interest in the rest of the protest to watch the drama which had unfolded right next to them. A similar circle had developed around the drone which received similar prods with the same curiosity but less concern.

  “Come on. Let’s get you to A&E,” said Felipe helping Mariana to her feet. “Does your plan cover Santa Catarina?”

  “Of course it does,” Mariana said with annoyance. And as the crowds parted to allow them to make slow progress towards the accident room, Teresa followed. For a brief moment, Felipe turned to look at her, and she couldn’t be sure, but she thought a wry smile curled his mouth.

  Teresa sat for what seemed forever on the uncomfortable plastic chairs of the hospital waiting room watching television pictures of what was happening outside. A million people Globo News had estimated, and Teresa had noticed as they left the crowds behind on their way to the hospital that there were as many people still joining the demonstration as there were leaving.

  Felipe returned to the waiting room.

  “How is she?” Teresa asked.

  “She’ll be fine,” said Felipe. “She’ll have quite a bump, but it won’t be as big as yours. She’s had a few stitches, and she’s just waiting for some antibiotics. She’s going to try and get a taxi to take her home.”

  “Good,” said Teresa. “I mean good that she’s OK, not good that she’s going home.”

  “Mariana is threatening to sue the owner of the drone. I think she will.”

  “I think she will too.” agreed Teresa.

  “Are you hungry?” Felipe asked.

  “A bit,” she said.

  “When we’ve finished here, how about we go and get something to eat. There’s a cafe nearby that invented the Bauru.”

  “Yes but their Baurus are not as nice as the ones you get elsewhere.”

  “You’ve already been?” He asked.

  She nodded.

  “Then let’s go somewhere else,” he suggested.

  “No, it’s fine. Have your Bauru. They’re just different that’s all. I prefer the other kind.”

  “We can go wherever you want, you choose.”

  “No it’s OK, let’s go to the Bauru place.” And she knew at that moment that she’d agreed to spend more time with him and she was pleased. “What about Mariana?”

  “She’ll be fine,” he said. “I don’t think she wants to spend more time with us. She’s still a bit upset about me staying at your place last night. Anyway, I better go and see how she is.”

  Felipe left Teresa alone in the waiting room once more and as she sat and watched the protests on Globo News, the thought that Felipe wanted to spend more time with her made her feel a little bit warmer inside.

  Chapter Twenty-Two - The Conversion – 15th February 2015

  “What did you think of the protest?” Teresa asked as they sat in the restaurant and waited for their sandwiches.

  “I understand that these are people who are pretty upset that their favoured candidate did not win the election. But to be willing, or even keen, to remove the elected Government, no matter how unpopular, and hand over power to an unelected group whose main role in society was to have lots of weapons and show them off whenever things seemed to be getting out of hand. I don’t see how handing over the country to the military just because you didn’t get your way in an election was a solution of any kind. This is not the way to go about things. Not just 30 years after the country has managed to wrestle power back off the dictators. What short memories these people have,” he said. “They’re talking about runaway inflation, but most of these protestors are enough to remember when Brazil did have runaway inflation, not just the 8% it has at the moment.”

  “Wow, I didn’t know you felt that strongly,” she said. “So, what are you doing here amongst so many angry right wing middle class people?”

  “I told you. I came to see you,” he smiled, then got serious again. “And another thing, PT might be left wing but they’re certainly not communist, they are as neoliberal as the next centre-left capitalist party. I have a lot of sympathy for the protesters. I’m also disgusted by the level of corruption. Corrupt politicians have stolen billions of dollars, some of whom are from the PT party. Billions of dollars which could have been better spent on hospitals, schools, adequate housing, clean water for all and filling in potholes.”

  Teresa raised her eyebrows. She had no idea, Felipe had all this pent-up rage inside him.

  “But I don’t see how it would be a good idea to remove Bolsa Familia,” Felipe continued. “That single benefit has lifted millions of low-income families out of poverty and guaranteed millions of Brazilian children an education. I’m also here because the Brazilian people have to show the corrupt politicians that they will not tolerate them robbing the country anymore. But mainly I’m here to see you.”

  The waiter arrived with their sandwiches.

  Felipe bit into his Bauru.

  “Yeah, I see what you mean,” he said after a bit of chewing. “Still nice, though.”

  “I don’t like them here,” Teresa repeated.

  “I know, but they are the original recipe,” argued Felipe.

  “Original does not mean best.”

  He smiled. Teresa observed it. She hadn’t noticed his smile before, but now she saw it she liked what she saw.

  “You have a nice smile,” she said, cringing at hearing her thoughts spoken out loud.

  “Thank you, so do you,” he said smiling even more. “You should do it more often.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she couldn’t help herself. Always on the defensive.

  “Nothing, Just that you look even more beautiful when you smile.”

  She blushed. She couldn’t believe she was letting Felipe’s cheap tricks fool her. It had been a while since anyone had paid her a compliment and she wasn’t used to it. Her defences were low and his attack constant.

  “What are you going to do,” she asked. “I’m working tomorrow.”

  “I’m not,” he said with confidence that Teresa found almost irritating.

  “It’s a school night, so I need to get to bed.” Teresa persisted

  He nodded and took a sip of beer.

  “Would you like some beer?” he asked, offering the bottle.

  She laughed at his stubborn refusal to take the hint.

  “OK, but I am working tomorrow.”

  “So you keep saying.” he ignored the hint and poured some beer into her glass.

  “You have no idea how difficult it is to deal with a classroom of small children.” she protested.

  “I can guess. Imagine working in an emergency room with a hangover.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “As I said, I’m not working tomorrow.”

  “So you intend to get drunk,” she assumed aloud. “How are you getting back to Praia Grande?”

  “Bus.” he attempted to say through a mouth fu
ll of Bauru.

  “Were you hungry?” Teresa asked amused.

  “Yeah,” he said, his mouth still stuffed. “Are you not?”

  “No,” she lied. “Anyway, I’m on a diet.”

  “You? On a diet?” He said. “Whatever for?”

  It sounded like another of his tricks, but Teresa was nevertheless flattered at the possibility of Felipe being genuine. She didn’t let this show and made sure that she fixed him with a stare which let him know she could see right through his pathetic attempts at winning her over.

  “No,” he saw the sceptic in her eyes. “I think you’re in great shape. I should know I’m a doctor.”

  She looked down at her beer.

  “You know,” she said, at last, looking up at him. “I’m not ready for this.”

  “Ready for what?” he asked.

  “Ready for this,” she continued. “I haven’t got over the last relationship.”

  Felipe said nothing for a moment. He refilled his glass with beer and took a sip.

  “That’s OK,” he said. “We can still have fun together can’t we?”

  “That all depends on what you mean by fun,” she said.

  “Well, this,” he said gesticulating at the table. “Having a meal, having a drink, having a chat, laughing.”

  She looked at him. He looked at her.

  “I enjoy being with you,” he said. “I enjoy your company. And if you’d let me, I’d like to spend more time with you.”

  She looked down. Embarrassed. She never took compliments well.

  “Can I spend some more time with you?” he asked.

  She looked up at his honest face grinning back at her. She had to laugh.

  “I guess so.” she conceded.

  “Come on. Let’s do something before you have to go home to bed.” Felipe said,

  “Like what?” She asked

  “I don’t know, what do you suggest?”

  Teresa wasn’t sure what to suggest. She did want to spend more time with this man whom she couldn’t deny she found attractive and who had flattered her with his attention. But at the same time, she had to work the next day and wanted to go home and relax without being followed by a stalker. She thought about where they could go that required little effort, would satisfy his desire for more entertainment and yet would leave him on his way to the bus station.

  “How about coffee?” she said at last.

  “Here or somewhere else.”

  “Somewhere else.”

  “OK, where?” he asked.

  “There’s a good coffee shop in Shopping Santa Cruz,” she suggested. “It’s not far on the blue line, and it’s on the way to Jabaquara for your bus.”

  “Sounds good. Let’s get the bill.” he mimed writing on his palm to the waiter who brought a piece of paper with some scribbles on it. Teresa reached for her bag.

  “I’ll get this,” said Felipe, pulling a card out of his wallet and handing it to the waiter. “Do you believe in God?” he asked Teresa as the waiter typed the amount into the portable payment machine.

  “That’s a big question,” said Teresa, surprised, “I was raised in the church, so I’ve always believed in something, but I don’t go to church anymore.”

  “I don’t,” said Felipe handing the payment machine back to the waiter. “I believe that we just happen to be here and that when we die we return to the soil and that’s it. So we get one shot at life so we need to be as happy as we can in the short time we have.”

  “Did you ever believe in a God?” Teresa asked.

  “I grew up a Christian like you,” he admitted, “but I started to think about what the pastor was saying, and it sounded like a load of rubbish. Then one day someone gave me a book.”

  ‘Here we go,’ thought Teresa.

  “It was a book about superstring theory. It took me a whole year to read. The author had written it with the idea that the theories of modern science were not incompatible with belief in a creator. But the more I read, the more I decided that the idea of some supreme being creating us was much less likely than the idea that we were just here. In fact, being here is a kind of inevitability if you think about it.”

  Teresa didn’t know how to begin thinking about it. They got up and left. Felipe followed Teresa as she led him through crowds still making their way towards the protest and joined the populous queues leaving the protest until they arrived at Paraiso Metro.

  Teresa felt tired. She hoped Felipe felt tired too because, although she was enjoying the attention, she just wanted to go home, put her feet up, have a gin and tonic and stroke the cats.

  Instead, they got off the train at Santa Cruz and ascended the stainless steel clad escalator into the shopping centre.

  “Do you know where Kopenhagen is?” he asked

  “Of course,” she answered as if it had been a stupid question.

  He followed her up similar escalators until they reached a small coffee shop which had a few tables and chairs arranged in front.

  “What would you like? I’ll get them while you save us a seat,” he said pointing to the only empty table.

  “I’d like a chocolate cappuccino,” she asked. She always had chocolate cappuccinos at this coffee shop and mocha lattes at Starbucks.

  Moments later, Felipe returned with two cups. Teresa’s cappuccino and an espresso for himself, both had a tiny biscuit perched on the saucer.

  “Here you go,” he said, placing her drink in front of her.

  “Thank you.”

  Some of the shoppers had been to Paulista. Teresa noticed their patriotic clothing and pointed it out to Felipe.

  “Mmm,” he nodded acknowledgement as he took a sip of his still too hot espresso. “I mean what I say, you know, about enjoying spending time with you.”

  It was Teresa’s turn to nod, and she took a sip of her coffee. She felt a little embarrassed and didn’t know what to do or say. She’d never been comfortable receiving compliments, or attention of any sort.

  “Is there a bowling alley here,” Felipe asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Shame, I could have beaten you at…er…I mean, given you a game.”

  “What makes you think you would beat me?” She smiled.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “but I’d have fun trying.”

  Teresa’s heart was beating faster. Damn her heart. Her body was anticipating what her brain was trying to resist. Although there was nothing sexual to Teresa about the game of ten-pin bowling, Felipe had somehow, through the tone of his voice, managed to load his sentence with innuendo.

  “OK,” she said. “Any other sports you’d like to beat me at?”

  “I can think of a few,” he replied in such a way that her blood began pumping a little faster.

  Teresa chastised herself for being so silly. Why did she feel like the heroine in a Bronte novel? She sipped at her coffee and tried to be more sensible. She had nothing in common with this man. He didn’t even believe in God.

  “Tell me more about yourself,” Felipe asked. “Do you have any family here in São Paulo?”

  “Yes,” said Teresa. “But I don’t have much to do with them anymore. Long story.”

  “I know how you feel,” he said. “I haven’t spoken to my family for ages. Long story.”

  Teresa looked at him with new interest

  Felipe nodded. He wasn’t going to share any more of the story for the moment. Instead, he finished his espresso. Teresa looked at hers and took another sip as well. She wondered whether she had misjudged him. She wondered why she was wondering this, why she cared. She looked at him again, and he looked back, and she wondered whether he might be a kind, decent man. He was a doctor after all. He smiled at her, and this made her self-conscious, so she returned her attention to her coffee and sipped again, but as she removed the cup from her lips, she could see he was still watching her with a content smile. She put down her cup, and it clunked in the saucer.

  “What do you see in me? ” she as
ked. “I mean. Why me? Why not Mariana?”

  “Because you’re interesting,” he said. “You’re different. You’re not like Mariana.”

  “Yeah, I’m not like Mariana.” Teresa laughed.

  “I found you very interesting.”

  “While you were sewing up my head?”

  “And I wanted to see you again. I wanted to find out more about you.”

  “So you accepted Mariana’s invitation, dumped her and stalked me.”

  Felipe thought about this for a moment.

  “Yes,” he admitted.

  “Well, you know I’m not an easy catch,” Teresa warned.

  “OK,” he said. “I can accept that. If you need time to fall in love with me, that’s OK.”

  Teresa laughed.

  “You’re very confident in yourself aren’t you,” she said.

  “I try my best,” he said. But Teresa observed a nervous look downwards and wondered whether perhaps it might all be an act to cover up his insecurities. He saw she was watching him and he looked up again and smiled.

  “I’m also very modest.” he joked.

  “I’ve noticed.” she smiled.

  “What else are you good at?” She found herself flirting.

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “Lots of things.” he teased.

  “Such as?”

  “I’m a very good doctor.”

  “I hope so.” she pointed to the dressing covering her scar.

  “You’ll have to let me look at that.”

  “You want to give me a check-up do you?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  Teresa found she was becoming less embarrassed by his flirting and more excited.

  “Shall we go?” She asked.

  “OK,” he said, a trace of disappointment in his voice mixed with a pinch of hope.

  He paid the bill, and they descended the escalators all the way down into the metro station. They went through the barriers.

  “I can go via Jabaquara,” said Teresa and so they both descended another escalator to the platform and waited for a train.

  “Not many people around now,” Felipe commented and compared to the busy trains they’d taken at the start of the day the one that now arrived was quiet as far as any metro train in São Paulo can be quiet.

  They boarded the train and rode the half dozen stops to Jabaquara not talking much, each not sure what to say. They arrived at Jabaquara and exited into the concourse which led to the EMTU buses on one side and the long-distance buses to the coast on the other. Touts hung around the exit to the station offering places on minibuses which sped their way to the coast as soon as they were full but Felipe said he didn’t trust their driving skills.