2
THE TRAVEL
The road coming out of the city is a submissive and narrow line that moves undulating through obese mounds and deflated valleys. On its back there is an endless procession of cars, trucks and vans. I have always thought that cars, thus formed one after the other, high, short, chubby or thin, are very much like toy soldiers marching toward an uncertain destiny or an unknown battle. When it is afternoon and traffic is heavy, the soldiers, anchored as they are in one place, observed the pointed pines that parked on the side of the road seem to applaud them in silent attitude.
When traffic is light, the soldiers march hurriedly, abstracting unintentionally from the magnificence of the environment whose colors, blurred as they are by the effects of speed, are dressed in a homogeneous stain of greenish tones. There is nothing more beautiful than a sunset on the road, it seems as if the nuances of the sky were fading and frayed from falling into the horizon as a kiss.
The magician had remained in respectful silence behind the wheel, in tribute to my sadness. A soft classical melody sent its chords to the wind. Seated, motionless, gazing at the window, scanning the strange shapes of buildings and vegetation that we were leaving behind, I was wondering: what would Leonardo think of my innocent lie? Would he judge it innocent, really, or believe that it was all a calamity?
I lacked of the sufficient confidence to open my heart to him and confess my fears, moreover, when I should, in addition, modulate my words and dose my gestures for not ratting, in any way, my feelings towards him. I hoped that arriving at Eisenbaum I could talk to Americus and end, once and for, with this entire hoax. Far from my thoughts was the fact that I might be testifying in the Magic Supreme Court, again. The ultimate experience was frankly unpleasant and the least I wanted was to face a mob of angry magicians besides the fact that I could end up, perhaps, roasted on a stake, as the ancient witches of Salem.
I turned my face to Leonardo, he continued with his eyes set on the road. The natural light began to mute and the first stars of the electric poles sparkled intermittently pointing the way with tenacity. Finally, Leonardo broke the silence in peaceful and conciliatory attitude
-Why so quiet? In Saint Andre you did not stop talking, talked so much that I was dazed. You are very quiet today and, I confess, that is very strange for me. Did mice eat your tongue?
I opened my eyes excessively and from the slums of my imagination the words made presence inside my head: Now he wants answers? Ah! Ah! Now the child wants answers! Was it not enough that you disappear without farewell in Saint Andre, without letting me even the consolation of your goodbye? And that kiss stolen in the forest? Was it just not worth mentioning? Dead on the wings of your indifference from the very moment it was born sentenced to die in the deep abyss of your forgetfulness. Where were you the last six months when still the answers were at your fingertips? Have you ever seen such cynicism? Oh!... men... they know nothing about romanticism or subtleties, they speak when they have to be quiet and shut up when they have to talk; It seems as if a mischievous Pixie was whispering to their ear the wrong instructions all the time.
Leonardo, magician as he was, seemed not to read the message of my silence and continued expectantly waiting for the gift of my answer. Of course, I said nothing. Instead, I just babbled a few meaningless phrases that made the wizard set his sight on the road again, without attempting to bring up any other topic of conversation. Finally, after hours of listening to Franz Liszt Hungarian Rhapsody and the Fantastic Symphony of Hector Berlioz on the radio, we reached the village of Bourlox.
We headed to the Enchanted Village Inn, and certainly I found it to be a peculiar name, nothing original, to tell the truth. A name, by nature, should reflect the substantiality and the essence of the person or place that carries it, if not, there is the risk of falling into inevitable inconsistencies that raise the ironic smiles of those who have to hear the name, at the end, and it does not serve the person or place. "Enchanted Village" evokes a mystical, contemplative place, for the experimentation of magic and witchcraft; in contrast, it was a set of wooden huts scattered in a small space, populated with many trees.
It was dark, but the yellowish light, which came from the lanterns placed along the sidewalks and the entrance of the main cabin, granted a pleasant and hospitable view. At the inn lobby, a too much friendly receptionist gave Leonardo the keys to our respective rooms. The hunger had already begun to martyr me with constant abdominal pain, stitches and unpleasant sound effects, I agreed with the wizard to find him in the restaurant at the end of an hour.
My room was small but everything was clean and in good order. A vanilla odor saturated the atmosphere and invited to the comfort and rest, but my mind was busy in another important and urgent matter: my attire for dinner. I threw my luggage on the bed and chose a simple sleeveless cotton dress. I went to the bathroom for a quick toilet. After the bath, I looked at the clock, still remained half an hour; I started to dress with much emphasis on my makeup and hairstyle. At the end, when the set of hair, makeup and dress, were all in harmony, I went down to meet the wizard, who was already waiting for me in one of the tables of the restaurant.
During the course of the dinner, Leonardo was flourishing in attentions and compliments. In my eyes, his charm was enhanced by every word he spoke. His hands, his eyes, his lips lived together in perfect harmony in the person of Leonardo, and the more I look for his defects and imperfections, the more I find more perfection and splendors and more I have to admire him. The theme of magic came out through the conversation, and I, who was so at ease navigating by the banalities sea, tasting the sweet delicacy of his words, encouraged by the light of a half-moon that strained out the window, I dared to ask randomly:
-The application documentation for the apprentice program was a nightmare. I am not sure of having filled all properly. What if, unconsciously, I had made some mistakes?
The wizard stopped the glass that was halfway toward his mouth:
-What kind of mistakes? -He asked at the same time, frowning and looking directly into my eyes.
-I do not know... omissions, false information, errors, false information?
-You placed false information?
-Of course not! -I said to the point of smothering- but I'm curious... to know... what would it happen if that were the case...
He thought of his words, the magician never issued a judgment prior to the sieve of reason:
-I am sure that a Disciplinary Tribunal would have to deal with the sanction. Honesty is one of the most precious qualities that a wizard or a witch must have. I will never endorse a lie and I think neither the judges of the Court. The expulsion with disgrace would probably be the sentence.
At this point, I was transported by the imagination to Eisenbaum, I saw myself again in the paved floor of the Tribunal Chamber, where I had been months earlier, with a peat of wizards and sorceresses shouting in against me, and Leonardo and Duprina as main accusers. Another trial? This time, maybe, I would not have Americus to save me and eventually, perhaps, I will follow the same destination of my ancient counterparts in Salem, tied to a stake on a mattress of logs and tinder, surrounded by a sea of hot flares, with my meat cooked until it was removed from my bones, until leaving only grey ash that the wind would transport who knows where. Thereafter, the dinner was not so lively. The prospect of a near death had the effect of depriving me of hunger.
-Tomorrow we should get up early, we will cross the bridge and will be in Eisenbaum -Leonardo interrupted my negative thoughts- so if you want to talk by phone with your family, do it from your room since then you won't have more opportunities to do so. Remember that we only can use letters.
I looked at him directly in the eyes, and then I asked:
-Why Eisenbaum appears to stay stuck in the medieval period, with its castles and forests? It seems a rather archaic place to live.
Leonardo was not amused by my comment and immediately attacked with the sermon of his convictions, but not without first clearing his voice and acquiring the condescending tone of a teacher:
-Modern era is not an appropriate environment for the development of magic. Phones, computers, video games, absorb the human being so much that they have no time for anything else. Magic studying is a journey in which you must immerse yourself with all your senses and your whole being. Medieval atmosphere, as you call it, is a favorable environment for the development of faculties. There are many living beings from the magic world that you will get in contact with: goblins, fairies, undines, sylphs, and will transmit their knowledge and skills to you, if you let them. The urban cities dislike them tremendously and you will never find them there. Wizards and witches, once they finished the studies program, can choose in what world to live or live in both worlds, if it is what they want. I recommend you start showing a little of respect for the lands and beings that you are going to meet and not to despise their world.
The magician words, so full of wisdom, made me clear how terrible my fault was and I thought that it wouldn’t be enough with a simple confession. There, in that small spot, while Leonardo conversed with the innkeeper and paid the account, I first began thinking about him and realized how little I knew of his life, except for those short stories told in confidence by the maid who had served us the room last time my sisters and I stayed in The Fortaleza. In addition to those stories acquired unlawfully, in other words, not from the original source, I knew nothing of him, except that he had a poisonous girlfriend named Duprina.
Back to the realm of reality, Leonardo escorted me to my room and said good bye without much ceremony. After closing the door, I took a look at the room; I don't know why it now seemed to me much tinier, much more insignificant that when I saw it in the afternoon, as a tiny doll house. However, the bed made me feel very welcome with a warm embrace of sheets and blankets, so I plopped down, among clouds and cotton pillows. So got me the dark night and the sleep... and also got me the dawn the next morning.
The morning glow suddenly awoke me, the brazen sun entered by the window, pecking me the face and causing me a light and pleasant sting.
I jumped out of bed, untangling from the sheet and blanket jumble that held my legs, which still retained the warmth of the night. I rushed to pick up my belongings that were lying stacked on the couch, next to the small bedside table. I did not want to have the wizard waiting for me. He had been very clear and precise in his statement "we will depart early in the morning” and by the amount of light hurtled through the window, the day had cleared for quite some time. With a quick motion I picked up all the clothes in a single bundle and squeezed it in the suitcase that refused to accept the valuable cargo. After rushing to get dressed, I went down the stairs quickly, leaping the stairs two by two and dragging the blessed suitcase that murmured a dry sound when it hit the edge of the stair steps, "tucupum", "tucupum", "tucupum", which made that all passers-by turned their faces to look at me.
When I got to the ground floor, I spotted Leonardo in the Lobby, impeccably dressed and with impatience in the face. I looked out my best smile, improved posture, beat my hair and tried to walk wielding class and distinction, but my luggage was too heavy and refused to keep me up, so I could not keep acting for a long time. When the magician saw me exhaled a sigh of relief, took my suitcase, returned to the Lobby and gave instructions to the too much friendly girl to keep it, since he would send someone to collect it during the course of the day.
I bothered a bit that he disposed of my personal belongings, without even consulting me:
-Wait! How do you think I could be without my clothes?
His response was quick:
-You do not have to worry. When you arrive at your destination, your suitcase will be there.
I closed my mouth and decided to give him a vote of confidence.
We had breakfast hurriedly. Leonardo only took a cup of coffee and milk and I, in order to avoid unnecessary delays, took the same and bit a cookie, leaving me with the desire of tasting the fluffy pancakes that were floating in a sea of butter and cheese, exhibited in the dish of a couple that was sitting next to our table. When we finished, he grabbed me by the arm as if I was an annoying bulk and practically dragged me to the exit.
I was surprised by the fact that on our way out from Enchanted Village Inn, which, again, concerning the name, was neither Enchanted nor Village, we did not walk toward the parking lot where we had left the car the day before as I was expecting, but in opposite direction, toward a sprawling green ground, bordered by a small white stakes fence, which culminated in a door also stakes-made, very similar to a stable. A freckled young, red-haired and barefoot, was waiting for us with two horses.
I scrubbed my eyes thinking that perhaps the vertiginous dream was playing me a dirty trick, providing me with fanciful visions, but it was not the case, the horses were still in my visual field, one black, the other white. The animals interrupted their grass breakfast, raised their heads and turned towards me, and they instinctively decided, with a whinny, that I wasn't valuable enough as to stop the tiring work they were immersed in, and returned to the everyday task of eating, ignoring me without pretense. I burst in Severa protests:
-What does this mean? Is this our means of transport? There must be a mistake. I am not a rider! Never in my life I have ridden into a beast, much less on a horse and I am not going to start now! -I said very angrily- in addition, watch them! Surely they are dirty and full of germs and lice, what is wrong with the car? -I asked agitated and restless.
Leonardo looked at me and sighed, I did not know if it was a resignation sigh or an impatience sigh:
-There are no cars in Eisenbaum. I had already told you. We have no service stations, in other words, there is no gasoline! Cars remain at Bourlox. The only means of transportation is on horseback or on foot. Unless you have wings and know how to fly, I suggest you take the horse, the walk from here takes two days, so it is not advisable and much less with the outfit that you bring on.
The freckled young, barely kept back his laughter, looked at me up and down, expressing his tacit agreement in relation to the comment about my outfit expressed by the magician; and dared to speak to me:
-Mr. Leonardo is right, Miss. That is not riding clothes. This is “Good” -he introduced pointing at the white horse- and that one is “Wrong” - he said pointing at the black one
When I heard those names, so trite, I broke into a forceful laughter attack; which brought tears to my eyes:
-What ridiculous these names are!
However, the seriousness of the magician and the young made me stop the revelry and then, before my astonished eyes, one of the horses, “Wrong”, answered in perfect English:
-Let’s see if your laughter reaches you to Eisenbaum, because I and my ridiculous and farfetched name do not think of transporting you.
-Neither do I -responded “Good” with a mouth full of half-chewed scraps of straw.
The tongue is the punishment of the body prays an old adage and how certain it was in this particular circumstance. Speechless, stunned, mute by the amazement before the talkative horses, I could not articulate words, so much was my bewilderment. The morning breeze fluttered and moved the soft hair that fell in cascade from the back of the horses. The sun climbed the mountains and emerged with his torrid and sweltering rays on the landscapes full of red roofs cottages. A few meters from there, a bridge loomed that separated Bourlox from Eisenbaum; in the distance, huge vermilion and white peaks, and behind them, the city of the magicians.
Leonardo took my arm and I moved to talk:
-What are you doing? Didn’t I tell you to show a little of respect? Is it too much to ask?
-How the hell I was going to know that the horses talk. You should have told me!
-How the hell I was going to know that you would insult them?
Then, as an excuse, I dared to say:
-But what happen to the beings of the magic world? They have no sense of humor? Would you dare to deny that their names are not ridiculous?
-We are hearing you –said “Good” in a ruminant and singing tone.
We departed a little further. Leonardo urged me to apologize and although at first I refused, I understood that if I didn't, I would not be at The Fortaleza in time; so I swallowed my pride, approached the horses and putting me in the middle of them, said cautiously:
-I apologize -the two animals turned their heads towards me while the freckled young man took a seat on a small wooden stool that was lying on one side of the fence. He had obviously thought that the outcome of the story was going to take a little more time than he thought, so he decided to become comfortable.
-Her words do not sound sincere to me -said “Wrong” with a circular movement of its tail.
What ridiculous this scene seemed! I was prattling with two arrogant and pretentious horses, whose only outstanding skill consisted in the articulation of phrases and sentences and the understanding of the English language; not at all surprising considering that other animals, such as parrots, knew this art of speaking a foreign language for a very long time ago. I moderated the tone and tried to seem humble.
-Please, please, please, I beg your pardon. Please help me get to The Fortaleza!
Since the colts continued their warlike attitude, the wizard intervened, and after a few words, full of kindness and justifications, they agreed to take me. At that time, the freckled young were already taking charge of placing the sheepskins, assembling chairs and unleashing the moorings. Leonardo instructed me, briefly, about the good management of the whip and the reins. I chose “Good”, hoping that she was worthy of the name and refrain from any vestige of revenge that could accommodate her heart.
Ready for the departure, I tried to ride on her back without embedding the heel of my boots in her flesh but my attempts were fruitless. Very difficult was the task for me, because every time I tried to place my shoe into the bracket, the horse, with premeditation and treachery, stepped forward and this action made me lose my balance and, inevitably, I ended up sitting on the wet grass that minutes before had served them as breakfast.
After three failed attempts, Leonardo, impatient and intransigent, came over to me and supporting his hands on my waist lifted me up in the air to place me in the chair, then, gave me the whip and said:
-Now, you are ready! Be warned, the world you are going is full of characters and unimaginable creatures. Given your disrespectful nature I know that you will find it difficult, but make an effort and try not to insult them, okay?
Then, he turned to his horse and in a single movement, full of expertise and majesty, mounted on it, seized the reins and the riding crop and began the ride towards the bridge. “Good” made a mild whinny like a derision snicker by what had just happen. Thus I whispered to her right ear:
- And you, devil horse, this does not stop here. As soon as we reach Eisenbaum, I personally shall ensure that you are fed with poisonous nettles instead of grass and instead of water you will have a laxative so watery that you will be unable to ride for days.
By response the only words I got were:
-I am a mare! -followed by another threatening whinny.