The Double Death of Quincas Water-Bray Read Online Free PDF Page A

eating. “In spite of all the trouble he’s caused, he
is
my father. I don’t want him to be buried like some tramp. If he were your father, would you like it, Leonardo?”
    Uncle Eduardo wasn’t all that sentimental. “So just what has he been, if not a tramp? And one of the worst in Bahia. Even though he’s my brother, I can’t deny that.”
    Aunt Marocas belched, her belly full, her heart too. “Poor Joaquim…He had a good nature. He never did anything out of meanness. He liked that life. Everyone has his own fate. He was like that ever since he was a child. Once—do you remember, Eduardo?—he tried to run off with a circus. He got a whipping that would have curled your hair.” She patted Vanda, who was sitting next to her, on the thigh, as if to excuse herself. “And your mother, my dear, she
was
a bit bossy. So one day he just took off. He told me he wanted to be free, like a bird. He really was a funny man.”
    No one found it funny. Vanda tightened her face, went on with what she had been saying: “I’m not defending him. He put us through a lot, me and my mother, who was a fine woman. And Leonardo. But that’s no reason for my wanting him to be buried like a stray dog. What would people say when they found out? Before he went crazy he was a respectable person. He should be buried in a proper way.”
    Leonardo looked at her with pleading eyes. He knew he wouldn’t get anywhere arguing with Vanda. She always ended up imposing her opinion and her wishes. It had been that way too with Joaquim and Otacília, except that one day Joaquim chucked it all and took off. There was nothing else to do, then, but drag the body home and go about telling friends and acquaintances, inviting people by phone, spending the whole night awake listening to them tell tales aboutQuincas, the muffled laughter, the winks, everything going on like that until they left for the cemetery. That father-in-law of his had made his life bitter, given the greatest of upsets. Leonardo had lived in apprehension of “another one of his stunts,” of opening the newspaper and coming upon an item about his arrest for vagrancy, as had happened once. He didn’t even want to remember that day when at Vanda’s insistence he went to the police station and was sent from one place to another until he found Quincas in the basement of headquarters, barefoot and in his undershorts, gambling peacefully with thieves and swindlers. And after all that, now when he thought he could breathe easily, he still had to put up with that corpse for a whole day and night, and in his home.…
    But Eduardo wasn’t in favor either, and his opinion carried weight because the merchant had agreed to share the funeral expenses. “That’s all very fine, Vanda. Let him be buried like a Christian, with a priest, new clothes, and a wreath. He doesn’t deserve any of it, but he is your father and my brother after all. That’s all very fine, but why have the body at home—?”
    “Yeah, why?” Leonardo repeated like an echo.
    “…bothering a lot of people, having to rent six or seven limousines for the procession? Do you know how much each one costs? And carrying the body from Tabuão to Itapagipe? A fortune. Why can’t the funeral start from right here? We’ll make up the whole procession. All that will be needed is one car. Then, if you insist, you can send out invitations to the seventh-day mass.”
    “Tell them he died in the interior.” Aunt Marocas hadn’t abandoned her suggestion.
    “Maybe so. Why not?”
    “So who’s going to sit up with the body?”
    “Just us. Why should there be anyone else?”
    Vanda ended up giving in. It was true, she thought. The idea of carting the body home was too much. It would only mean a lot of work, too much expense and bother. The best thing was to bury Quincas with the greatest discretion possible and then tell friends, invite them to the seventh-day mass. It was all set, then. They ordered dessert. A nearby loudspeaker