The Giant Cloud
A novel in twenty episodes
By Luís Carmelo
(transl. Bernardo Palmeirim)

THIRTEENTH EPISODE
(Without delay, I told António Romeu everything...)

But why on earth was I, of all places, in a suite at the Penta talking about passions with António? I haven’t a clue. But, at a given moment, he changed his expression, put on that face of serious conclaves and solemn pacts, blew out a puff of zeppelin smoke, smiled and confessed that I had given to him, in life, something no one else had. Or would ever come to give. The exclusivity of a secret.
It was true.
When I went back to that Portugal which still reeked of fado and lost myths, I felt the need to tell my story to no matter whom. And I concluded that, from Minho to Timor, throughout our vast and happy nation, only one friend, most of all a very old one, could be the receptacle of such a confidence. Without delay, during an August weekend in ’68, I went up north to Ribatejo and told António Romeu everything, bit by bit, as if I had jumped out of a summertime script by master Truffaut.
He was more amazed and embarrassed then, I remember clearly, than I was now, here at the Penta, observing in Romeu’s face what I had never thought he could have become: an unemployed bon vivant who had left behind his wife, kids, football club, parish, the guys from the local coffee shop, his barber, everyone. But since he kept on postponing the story, I pretty much yelled out:
“Come on, spill it out!” António sat back down, glanced at his watch, poured out some more scotch and finally went through the story in double time.

(Next episode of The Giant Cloud:“ António Romeu set his glass on the table, leaned against the large window sill and let a huge smile come out, from ear to ear, leisurely, witty, joyous.”)

Continues

(see here portuguese updated version)