But no, I wanted to write. It´s an insistent stubbornness! I remembered Affonso that after a long time, was just dedicated on that. “I´m wanting too much!” I remembered Bandeira who needed to write to survive. I remembered myself “if I don´t write, I die!” So, I go on. My project now, was a tale book. I´ll mix the magic with real and I´ll put the lyrical, a sadness mix, suffering, joys, curiosities, I´ll retract my routine. At last, there are the curious, people from world with the feet on the moon, there are the healthiest, the crazies, the dreamers, the defeated, the liars, the saints and the sinners. Yes, I must continue writing.
I was on bed. The lights were on, the thought was flying, the hand on the button, to turn it off, stop in the air when I discover: I had started the scripture again! I opened the bed table´s drawer, took a pen, paper, there was always a pen and a paper there. Under side … books. I took a book, put a white paper that was supported on the mattress on the book and I started to write.
I wanted to tell a beautiful love history, but the emotion still haven´t touch me enough to do that, I crossed out the few words I had written. My love history must be very very special, very different, but that night the moon wasn´t inspiring too much and the day hasn´t been the best one. So, it must be a real history. I started again. But the wasn´t desire on the ink to paint that white paper. I remembered Macabéa, I think my character is as insignificant as her, but the problem is that my verb isn´t as good as Clarice´s verb. I stopped. I crossed out everything again. I yawned, it seems the slumber wanted to corrupt that moment I wanted to be magic. I insisted it.
The book that supported the paper was from literature, I was always surrounded of literature books. I leafed it through lengthy. Nothing. It wasn´t what I wanted. I still was too poor to do literature. I sat down in bed, the windows were opened, a delicious wind blew on my face, lighted a cigarette, put the leaf on the book and the book on my lap and I started to think again. Yes… to think. First, I needed to build a history on my head and after put it on the paper. I thought on the last two or three tales I read, I wrote. They were born on a simple way, nature, and now I need an obstetrician, a caesarean?!! Incredible!
I crossed one´s legs, put the leaf on the book, the book on my knees. It´s now. It will have a history and it will be magic, like that little smoke that I didn´t understand why I insisted to produce at my mouth, despite all the grieves hat follow it. I remembered other lives, in others centuries. My witch´s time. It was just rescue this time. I remembered!
There was a story that from that boy who came from Itararé to Palmas, looked for help to solve some heart´s problems, from passion, from wizardry. It was bewitched, according to the legend, his father brought him searching his salvation. Just listen…
Jose has been enchanted by Bianca. Allow that union was impossible. He was still a boy on his twenties. She was an experienced woman, despite been too on her twenties. She started early on the seduction and bane games. Jose was from a wealthy family. A good and promising marriage, despite drugs that involved his itararense´s life. The family on their wandering and suffering, have already done everything, Jose sank himself more and more. Then they discovered a powerful witch at Palmas, in the south of Brazil, it was the last appeal, they got the address and gone, Jose and his father.
Bento Stingelin Street number 401, a white house with black eaves. There were Jose sat and in front of him Lucka, the famous witch of the place. The boy trembled his reddish and opened wide eyes, with fear and the desire of the magic potion that smell everyday. He must go out, his father will talk to her before. Outside he lay down on a hammock while he was waiting. His father out of there after a long and endless hour. “Now you come and talk to her”. It was all what he listened from his father. He went to the room. Sat down, and one more time he was in front of her. A lady a little curious, full of plait and garnish on hair, on arm, on the neck and big and round earrings drooped on her ears. A reddish veil covered her face and made her more curious yet. The father liked her.
Result, Jose must pass fifteen days with the witch, and then his cure will start. He will leave the drugs and with them the famous Bianca. The father went out like Jose who traveled to a small farm, in the middle of the bush on the brink of a river, with Lucka. They will wait the full moon the start the work. It was what the witch told to Jose´s father. “Come back here in fifteen days and I´ll have an answer.” The father came back to Itararé. José, despite of the spots, was a beautiful guy. The eyes and the hair were black like the mysteries of a night without stars, he left fall a lock that seems a stubborn quiff. Her cooper skin covered her meter and eighty, very well distributed on her eighty kilogram. His body follow that witch without any wish that wasn´t hallucination. He needed doesn´t disobey.
Finally they arrived at the such magic place, but they needed wait the full moon. The night arrived with them, remained them to sleep. The silence follows them during the hiking. That night Jose has slept very well, the witch give him a mysterious tea that took him on a travel over the dream´s world and on it the old witch on a red veil left view that big nose full of warts. Jose felt fear.
The day dawned with the bird´s singing and the rumor of leafs that fell from the trees. The witch wasn´t there but there was a big breakfast on the table. He sipped each sip with curious and went out, he wanted to walk and know that place, maybe he could go home. There weren´t fences. And then, Jose saw Lucka´s face for the first time without the veil. She bathed herself on the river edge, while her clothes rested on the morning´s turf. Was it hallucination? Fantasy from a head lost in the bush? Lucka was a beautiful witch who danced on the water´s flavor, it seems she danced on it, after submerged and turned back and wriggled on a magic frenzy of sensuality. Jose spied everything and he was liking what he was seeing.
“Há! Are you there? Come here, enter on the water with me, it´s very good today”. Jose preferred stay on the shore. He looked the landscape disguising his curiosity and enchantment. Lucka went out very calm, put her clothes on, sat beside Jose, took on his hand started reading to him, massage them. Suddenly stood up and pushed and pulled him for a run between the unsettled trees. She laughed loud, danced, involved him on her arms and hugs, left him on his luck, and come back to save him and so the time passed. They become accomplices on a silence talk. Every night she told him stories, laughed, massaged his body with special oils, a soft music involved them and on the ecstasy of the emotion she left him to the slumber and to the dreams. Jose liked all that, while waited the full moon.
The first scene of the moon arrived. They walked bearing a clearing, over there was a magic circle that will involve them to open their way. The ritual demanded just a transparent garb falling on their body. Jose lay down in the middle of the circle, Lucka enchanted him with magic words, with gestures, with laugh and soft hands sliding on his smooth body. He got undressed of the world and now get undressed of his garb. Both them were just wearing the breeze and were starting the biggest wizardry in the universe. Jose gives one self up to her. Lucka sat under her knees, started to pronounce incomprehensible words to him, caressed him staring for his face, his hair, his shoulder, his chest, smearing him with scented oils, while incenses burned around. Jose received everything like a dry and eager plant that receives water. The moon attested everything, running between the tops of the trees like if it wanted look for the best angle to enjoy the landscape. Lucka caressed him and talked, talked and caressed him, the moon´s heat made it more intense, she started to suck her breast, stroll her magic hands on her alive and hot body and Jose in an impetus pull her for him and sucked that mouth lengthy that doesn´t pronounce anything. The witch became a panther and bit him and instigates the fight not equal. He a ferocious animal, insatiable now goes above the panther pricking as he could. The fought for hours until both them, winners were defeated by the tiredness and downcast felt down side by side, embraced on that magic circle that involved them. The moon, tired on its hike by the sky went away and the sunshine and the bird´s singing waked up hunt and hunter. The break of the spell started.
The witch concentrated herself during the day, spent hours and hours on the river´s side, on her oracle and wearing her long and red garb. Jose wanted too much that the night arrive to start the ritual again. And then, days and nights passed by, and the 15ª night, the last one arrived. The two delighted rolled on immensity of green of their body on a frenetic fight, laugh, screams were listened by the forest, but no one has never seen nothing.
Jose´s father turned back to Palmas to fetch his son to continue his treatment in Itararé. He looked for Bento Stingelim Street. It was a small side street, between two avenues and there weren´t more than thirty houses. He searched, desperate searched, after all he had left his son there. There wasn´t mistake, he was on that house. But, according to the dwellers of that place there wasn´t the house number 401. This number didn´t be found. It had never existed.
People tell, that even after ten years the father search his son. And, near the Iguaçu River, there are two animals that grabbed themselves every full moon screaming and fighting like they will hurt to die, but no one can get near.
[1] Writer. Palmas-Paraná/Brasil (lucynazaro@hotmail.com). English version by Dayane Souza.
THE SCRIPTURE de Lucy Salete Bortolini Nazaro é licenciado sob uma Licença Creative Commons Atribuição-Uso não-comercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Brasil.
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