Heart Impulses

By Mônica de Castro and By the Spirit Leonel

The central essence of the work is the approach to issues related to social and existential problems. It presents, through short chapters a unique opportunity to reflect on the behavior of a person as a social and spiritual being.

As a chil

• Language: English
• Publisher: World Spiritist Institute
• Release date: Aug 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9781088252499

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

When the raindrops began to drum on the windowpane, Augusto rolled onto his side on the bed, trying to cover his ears to avoid being disturbed. He had always liked the sound of the rain; however, on that particular day, the constant click, click irritated him. He had slept through the night, thinking of the best way to tell his father that he did not want to accompany him that day, as he had not wanted on any other.

On Saturday mornings they no longer had the same feeling of pleasure since his father had decided to practice his new sport: capybara hunting¹, according to him, an efficient, economical, and appetizing way to prepare lunch. Augusto; however, had a horror of blood and barbarism in the hunt, which took the lives of innocent animals to feed the ego and the pleasure of the hunter. Even if it wasn't for hunger, I wouldn't say anything. But the father hunted for pure sport and justified the killing with the use of meat as food.

N.T.: Hydrochoerus hydrochaeris, commonly called capybara, ronsoco, capybara or chigüire, is a rodent of the cavy family. It is the largest and heaviest living rodent in the world. It lives in the terrestrial zone of tropical forests and savannas.

With the pillow over his head, Augusto was waiting for his father to enter, dressed in his usual faded jeans and rubber boots, suitable for hunting. In no time, the door opened. The sound of his father's boots rubbing made his skin shiver. Augusto hated the sound of wet rubber. It reminded him of death.

- Good morning, son - Jaime greeted, already holding the shotgun in his hand -. The coffee is ready. Let's see if the rain gives us a break.

- Are we going to hunt in this weather?

- Of course! Walk, don't delay.

Reluctantly, Augusto stretched out and got out of bed, staring out the window at the trees. The water dripped from the leaves, in abundance. A small sparrow huddled under a thicker branch to protect the soggy feathers. The sight of it caused great concern in Augusto, since he knew that the small animal, although not his father's target prey, was a cause for fun in target practice.

Augusto turned his face away, fighting to contain his revolt and his tears. He hated what his father did to animals; however, he did not have the courage to protest.

- One day I'm leaving here, he thought aloud -. And I will never hurt any animal again. I swear.

- What are you saying? - was the voice of Jaime, who, without Augusto noticing, had entered the room to see why it was taking so long.

- Nothing - hesitated the boy, fearful of reprimand.

- Nothing, no. Clearly, I heard you say that you wanted to get out of here so as not to hurt the animals. Augusto made a face, while his father continued: - Is that what you think we do? That we hurt animals?

I did not want to say that...

- Yes, you did it. That is exactly what you said. Where have you seen a man with an animal feather?

Am I raising a weakling?

Augusto lowered his eyes, not daring to answer or face his father, who now raised his voice in a tone above normal. The almost screams caught the attention of the woman, who was soon by her side.

- What's happening here? – She asked worried.

- It's that boy, Laura. Do you know what he said? She shook her head, and he answered wryly: "That he feels sorry for the poor defenseless animals. Where has it been seen?

Laura looked at her son with a mixture of compassion and reproach. He was a handsome boy. Smooth white skin, straight black hair, an irresistible dimple on her chin.

- Augusto is still very young, he justified -. It will change soon.

- I have my doubts. At his age, I had even killed a jaguar.

- Stop being over the top.

- It's true, Laura, I swear. My brother and I killed a huge jaguar on our trip to Bocaina² ... A huge cougar.

(2) N.A.: Sierra da Bocaina, located between the states of Rio de Janeiro and São Paulo, shelters a great diversity of flora and fauna.

- Stop telling lies, man. Cougars run even from dogs.

- He too, he pointed to his son. This child is afraid of mosquitoes.

- I'm not afraid - Augusto risked, encouraged by the presence of his mother - I'm just... sorry.

Those who feel sorry are weaklings, Jaime said. Don't you know it? And now stop this nonsense, or we won't be able to hunt anything.

- I haven't had my coffee yet, he protested.

- And you won't even take it. It's a punishment for your freshness.

They drove to the point where they entered the forest, with Augusto's stomach growling with hunger and turmoil. In the rain, he straightened his shotgun on his shoulder. He followed his father, stepping in the mud, soaking the cowboy's leather hat. The two of them walked through the forest for a long time, Augusto after Jaime, in growing and silent anger. He hated hunting and even more for his cowardice for not being able to tell his father that he would no longer kill.

After a few kilometers in the forest, the rain subsided. A very timid patch of sunlight ventured behind the gray clouds, reminding Augusto of the fur of an animal stained with blood. Turning his face away from the sky, he looked at his father, who suddenly stopped, shotgun in hand, aiming at a specific point in the forest, where a click had just caught his attention. The creaking continued closer. Some plants and lower branches were shaken by an invisible animal.

Instinctively, Augusto approached Jaime. The movement was too big for a capybara, and the memory of the cougar that the father claimed to have killed filled Augusto with terror. What if a jaguar was on the prowl?

Father - He whispered -. What is it?

Shh! - Jaime said, putting his finger to his lips.

Crouched behind him, Augusto was still terrified. He wanted to run, but did not dare, aware of the danger that surrounded them. The noise grew closer, and a kind of indistinct growl came out of the bushes.

- Is it a jaguar? He asked, as low as his trembling, terrified lips allowed.

Jaime did not respond at first. He kept the shotgun fixed on an invisible target. Suddenly, the clicks intensified. The entire jungle seemed to move along with the animal's legs. Augusto imagined a feline gallop, already visualizing the jaguar leaping over them, when a deafening roar echoed through the forest.

A terrible howl passed through the forest. The stems and leaves would bend and separate from them. The animal was running away.

- What is that dad? - He said, fighting terror.

A wolf, Jaime finally said, shooting in pursuit.

Running very close, Augusto gasped in fear and outrage. For the first time a wolf appeared in those parts, and the father wanted to kill him? It didn't seem fair. They ran for a long time, even when the noise of the animal was drowned out by the sounds of the forest. Footprints in the wet dirt and squashed grass left an easy-to-follow trail. Jaime showed all his tenacity when he entered the jungle behind the animal.

- Let him go, Augusto asked. He does not eat.

- Your skin will be a good trophy. And then, I never hunted a wolf.

- But Dad...

- Silence, Augusto! Now is not the time for your claims.

Augusto was silent, following his father with angry tears in his eyes, which he managed to hide between the sweat on his face and the sporadic drops that descended from the trees. They followed in the footsteps of the animal, going deeper and deeper into the dark forest, until they came to a small clearing. As quietly as possible, they stopped and sought refuge behind a rock. From where he was, the animal became visible. It looked like a wolf, but it was a maned wolf³. Augusto recognized the species from illustrations he had seen in an encyclopedia in the school library. Beautiful, the reddish coat that covers much of his body.

(3) N.T.: The Maned Wolf (Chrysocyon brachyurus) is the largest canid in South America. Its markings make it similar to foxes, but it is neither fox nor wolf. It is the only one of its kind in the genus Chrysocyon which means golden dog.

The lone maned wolf looked around, visibly tired and aware of the threat of death. He sniffed the air, but couldn't detect his hunter, positioned upwind, out of sight. Still suspicious, he lowered his head to drink water from a huge pool that had formed in the rain.

It's not a wolf, Augusto clarified, hoping to save the animal from his father's sight. It is a maned wolf.

- Whatever is... -. Jaime murmured.

Jaime's features were tough and unforgiving now. It was as if his entire body participated in that hunting process. He didn't move a muscle, didn't blink, or show signs of breathing. It looked like an ice statue pointing in the direction of extermination.

Jaime held the shotgun at eye level, pointing it at the animal. As he looked at the maned wolf, he did not even notice the turbulence that was growing in Augusto's heart. Unique feelings washed over him. Compassion swelled with tears, which now stood out in sweat and raindrops. Why did the father have to kill? What fascination was it that made you take pleasure in seeing blood and death?

The animal now seemed unconcerned, apparently confident in his safety. He did not notice the stalking hunter or the child crying in grief at his near death. In his heart, Augusto was in a dilemma: he wanted to avoid murder, but he was terrified for his father. His thought accused him of being a coward, his heart struggled to impose justice and balance on nature. It was neither right nor fair to kill animals in their natural habitat, defenseless and free where they should feel safe. And the father was not an Indian, he did not need to hunt them to survive. He did it for sport and pleasure.

Caught in his own fears, Augusto didn't know what to do. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his father's tongue wet his avid lips and felt his index finger pull the trigger. Now Jaime rewards him with more force, now he relaxes, waiting for the victory over the magnificent animal. He wanted to prolong that moment of glory as long as possible, the emotion that the maned wolf's power over life and death caused in his soul.

Augusto now did not take his eyes off his father, following, in silent agony, the coming and going of Jaime's finger on the trigger. With every pressure he made, the boy swallowed. He closed his eyes, waiting for the shock and the cry of the animal. He didn't understand why his father didn't shoot, although he knew he would never give up.

That moment seemed like a cruel eternity. Standing there, waiting for the maned wolf's bloody death, was something that went far beyond courage and cowardice. It was a matter of principle, of believing what was correct and resisting any form of attitude below a minimum of morals. Jaime decided it was time to shoot. The soul filled with the joy of conquest, he squeezed the trigger harder, pulling it towards him to release the deadly bullet and accomplice. It was a studied action, meticulously crafted and expected. The result; however, would be fast, accurate. He wouldn't give the maned wolf any chance to escape or survive. Just as Jaime fired the gun, Augusto jumped on him and knocked him to the ground. The shot, deflected, took another direction, away from the maned wolf. Taken by surprise, Jaime quickly shook Augusto and got up hastily, just in time to see the animal disappear between the trees, penetrating the thick forest with the speed of a hare. He took aim and fired again, but the bullet disappeared from its prey. Quickly, he reloaded the weapon and fired again, hitting the thick trunk of a tree.

It was in vain. The maned wolf had escaped, entering a part of the forest where, Jaime knew, he should not follow it.

- Why the hell did you do that? - He asked angrily, lifting his son by the collar of his raincoat.

Augusto didn't answer, sure that his father already knew the answer, and began to cry.

Wuss, he scorned. My eleven-year-old son is a Wuss! A Queer!

- I'm not a queer! - He protested angrily -. I just didn't want you to kill the maned wolf.

- Ah! You didn't want to, right? He is friend of animals, just like the girls at school, who live by collecting ladybugs.

I don't like killing animals, he sobbed. It is evil. Why don't you understand that?

- You made me lose my prey for nothing - he turned in a tone of contempt -. Because you feel sorry for the animals. I wanted to see if he would attack us.

- He didn't attack us. It just wanted to live. Why can't you respect animals? Why can't you respect me?

- Really, Augusto? Do you think I don't respect you? - He said nothing -. Why does a cowardly son deserve respect? Respect is for men, not queers.

- I told you, I'm not a wuss! – he screamed -. And if it was, I also deserved respect.

The slap came fast and hard. Augusto raised his hand to his flushed face, feeling the tears overflow profusely.

All you know is crying, Jaime said. You don't look like my son. It would have been better if we had a girl, instead of a fearful sissy like you. At least she wouldn't need an apology for acting like a woman.

Augusto swallowed his tears, while Jaime turned his back on him and started back on the road. The boy followed silently, huddling under his cloak to ward off the rain that had fallen again. He thought that his father would continue hunting, looking for a capybara, but he gave up. With the shotgun in her arm, she headed home without exchanging a word with him.

From that day on, Jaime no longer took Augusto hunting.

CHAPTER 2

Since the failed maned wolf hunt, the father-son relationship had grown colder and more distant than ever. Every Saturday, Jaime got up early, adjusted his shotgun on his shoulder, left, and came back with a capybara or two, which Laura would prepare for lunch or dinner. If before it was difficult for Augusto to eat meat, now it had become unbearable. The meat made him nauseous. He couldn't help grimacing every time the aroma of the barbecue rose to his nose.

Still, he ate, fighting his stomach not to return the food to the table. With much effort, he managed to swallow some of the roast, enough to satisfy his parents. It was not unusual for him to run to the bathroom and vomit.

That day was no different. At the end of the meal, a wave of chills ran through his skin and sweat ran down his forehead. Augusto got up immediately and ran to the bathroom, before his parents realized what was happening. Waxed and alone, he vomited. For a while, he stayed inside, washing his mouth, brushing his teeth, waiting for the characteristic smell to dissipate. Within moments, there was a knock on the door...

- Augusto, my son, is everything okay? - It was Laura.

The door opened and Augusto reappeared, trying to control his gasping.

I'm fine, mom, he replied, without looking at her.

- Reinaldo is there. He came looking for you to play.

Augusto smiled at his mother and went out to meet Reinaldo, who was waiting for him in the living room, in the company of his father. Reinaldo and Augusto had been friends for many years, since kindergarten. As they always studied together, they established a solid and sincere friendship, full of complicity. Jaime had never questioned their friendship. Until that day.

Dismayed by Augusto's fears and coolness, Reinaldo's attitude suddenly didn't seem natural to him. When his son entered the room, Jaime noticed that Reinaldo stopped speaking and looked at Augusto with an air of true adoration. To his surprise, he saw the desire in that look.

Stunned, he observed. Augusto approached, winked at his friend, and held out his hand. Do you want to play Magic Brain⁴? - He asked.

(4) N.A. Magic Brain - questions and answers game manufactured by the Kiehl company in Brazil in the 1950s.

Reinaldo accepted Augusto's proposal. They went to the room united by a hug in which Jaime recognized all possible bad intentions. Angry, he almost walks over to go after them. But he did not do so for fear that the scandal would arouse the feeling that, until then, it could only be latent. Still, after a few minutes, he went to see what they were doing. Since the bedroom door was closed, she carefully opened it. The two children, hunched over the bed with their backs to him, amused themselves with the Magic Brain's questions, holding the pen close to the metal spaces that contained the answers. Every once in a while, they would give each other a little bump, teasing, rubbing shoulder to shoulder.

Jaime made a noise and entered the room. The boys looked at him blankly, aware that they were in the game. However, James kept looking at them, expecting a snitching attitude.

- Did something happen? - Augusto asked.

I want you to leave the door open, Jaime ordered.

- Why?

- Just do it

Although they did not understand, they did not question the order either. They continued the game without paying more attention to Jaime, who still remained a few minutes at the door. Making sure the two really just played, he left.

The next day was Sunday. As usual, the family went to mass in the morning. Laura, being religious as she was, tried to guide her son on the same path, Augusto did not resist and even found peace in the church, but he was not dedicated or interested in the liturgy.

Jaime, on the other hand, was not a man of religion or faith. He attended mass as a social duty to his wife and son. He was not used to paying attention to the litany of the priest, much less to the behavior of Augusto in church. He always slept and received numerous elbows from Laura to keep him awake.

But now, watching Augusto sing the church hymns in his high, feminine voice, he thought how much he had disappointed him. This was definitely not the son she had dreamed of. His wish had always been to have a strong, brave, and manly boy. Very different from the fragile, fearful, and delicate child that Augusto revealed himself to be.

He barely contained disappointment. In addition, Laura could not have more children due to the difficult pregnancy and delivery she had. So, Augusto was the only one, with whom he had to be content. He only hoped that Augusto would grow up and give him grandchildren to fulfill his frustrated dreams.

When he got home, Jaime took the rest of the day to rest, and Augusto left with his bicycle to meet Reinaldo. They walked, as always, through the neighborhood streets, stopped for ice cream and talked under a tree at the entrance to the forest.

Almost nightfall, Augusto came home, and Jaime was waiting for him. When he saw him, he and Reinaldo stopped in front of the door. His son got off the bike and talked a bit more with his friend, then he hugged him and went inside, while Reinaldo headed towards his own house.

- Where were you? - Jaime asked when he approached.

- We walked - the answer was brief.

- Where?

- At the end of the street, as always.

- You and Reinaldo?

- Yes. And who else?

Jaime sighed slowly and looked at his wife. There was something in the relationship between him and Reinaldo that was not right. On close inspection, that boy has a somewhat affectionate way of speaking and always finds an excuse to touch Augusto, who seems to reciprocate.

I think Augusto shouldn't spend so much time with Reinaldo anymore, he said, as soon as the boy left.

- Why? - Said Laura.

- I do not know well. I think this guy is a bit strange.

- What do you mean?

- He's a bit effeminate, I don't know. It has a cheeky look.

- Do not say that. They have been friends for a long time.

- Maybe it's time for Augusto to make new friends. I have been thinking of inviting Euripides' sons to come here.

- Augusto doesn't even know Euripides' children.

- Time to meet. And he also has a daughter. The girl is cute.

- Enough, Jaime. Augusto is still too young for these things.

- I don't want him to be raised as a wuss.

- This is all due to hunting, right? You can't forgive him for not enjoying hunting like you do.

- Hunting is a man's sport.

- Augusto is just a child.

- You must admit that it is too delicate for a child. He doesn't even like soccer. What if he's one of those who ... turns the other way?

- You're overreacting. He is only eleven years old. No malice has yet awakened. It can be. But what about Reinaldo? It seems very smart to me.

- Why? What did he do?

- Didn't you notice the way he looks at our son? And how does he see the way of being with him?

- I've never noticed that.

- Well, you should pay attention. I don't know if Augusto realizes it or not, but I don't like another child spending so much time alone with our son. It doesn't even look good.

- Do you think so?

- What I'm suspecting is what if Reinaldo tries something with Augusto? And what is worse if Augusto likes it?

Augusto came in afterwards, bathed and combed his hair. At the same time, Jaime was silent.

He didn't want to draw attention to his son just yet.

Let's have dinner, Laura said, trying to change the tense moment.

Not suspecting anything, Augusto took his place at the table. From time to time, he noticed his father's eyes on him, but he didn't know why so much insistence. Perhaps he was testing him to take him back hunting. A chill ran down his spine and he tried not to look at his father. Rice, beans, and vegetables were served. He was about to start eating when his mother, on his father's orders, placed a piece of capybara meat on his plate.

He grimaced and looked at her, but it was his father's voice that sounded imperative:

- You need protein. Eat.

Even against his will, he obeyed. He closed his eyes and tried to swallow the pieces of meat as fast as he could. Then he filled it with lemonade to get that horrible taste of blood out of his mouth. Even with the meat cooked, it was inevitable that he would smell and taste the blood. He managed to finish dinner without feeling ill. At least for that, Jaime was satisfied.

CHAPTER 3

The fear that his son would become homosexual ended up becoming an obsession for Jaime, who saw in Reinaldo a threat to Augusto's masculinity. The boy lived too loose, he had no limits and no one to tell him what to do or not do. The mother worked all day and did what she wanted. With that, it was natural for him to meet many older, more experienced, and malicious children, who could have started him in perverse sex. And that could not, in any way, be repeated with Augusto.

So many were the fears that Jaime thought of a way to end that friendship. He couldn't have an honest conversation with Augusto, lest he alert him to his suspicions. Jaime did not think that sexual preference does not derive from imposition, but from a choice of the soul, always looking for experiences that help it grow. He forgot an essential ingredient in any type of human relationship: respect. He did it not out of malice, but out of ignorance. Jaime wanted the best for his son, and the best, according to him, was to stop everything that he thought was harmful, even at birth.

That afternoon, Jaime left work at the post office and went home thoughtful. As the agency where he worked was not far away, he went on foot, as always. As he walked down the street, a lightning flashed in the sky in front of him, and the storm that followed shook his bones. Strong clouds had formed over the entire city, without him noticing. Suddenly, a thunderstorm fell everywhere. Jaime quickened his pace, afraid of being hit and struck down. Soon the rain fell in thick drops. Jaime rushed down the sidewalk, trampling puddles and soaking his feet.

When he got home, he was out of breath and drenched, not only from the rain, but also from the sweat that ran down his face, the result of panic caused by the lightning that struck around him. Jaime slammed the door, panting, and Laura ran toward him; her hands clasped in supplication:

- Thank God you arrived! She breathed. I was dying of worry.

- It's a horror out there. It's scary. And Augusto? Is he at home?

- In the living room, with Reinaldo.

The news of the boy's presence upset him greatly. Jaime quickly took a very hot shower and went to see what the boys were doing. Leaning against the bedroom door, he heard nothing. Everything seemed very still and silent. Seeing the boys in a perverted attitude, he didn't think twice: he turned the knob hastily and pushed open the door, which crashed into the side wall with a bang.

The shock was so great that the boys jumped. Jaime lunged into the room, the reprimand ready, glued to her lips. But all he saw were two frightened children and a pile of open books on the bed.

- What are you doing? - He asked nervously.

- Studying mathematics was Reinaldo's simple answer.

Jaime looked at the boy with hostility. The question had not been directed at him, and the rush of the answer sounded petulant.

No more studying now, Jaime continued, barely managing to hide his irritation. Dinner is almost ready. It's time for Reinaldo to go home. His mother must be worried.

- How do you expect Reinaldo to come home in that weather? - answered Augusto -. When the rain passes, it will.

But the rain did not pass. On the contrary, it increased more and more, increasing the incidence of lightning. It was impossible to leave. Even Jaime recognized it. There was no way Reinaldo not only stayed for dinner but was also forced to sleep there. Without a phone, he had no way of telling his mother.

At Jaime's request, Laura arranged the sofa for Reinaldo, despite Augusto's insistence that they sleep in the same room and thus prolong the games. Neither of them understood why they couldn't sleep together, but they did.

After making sure that his friend was well settled on the sofa, Augusto went to the bedroom and Jaime left with his wife. Alone in the room, Reinaldo was shaking with fear. Ashamed to say that he was terrified of thunder, he thought he could overcome the panic and face the stormy night alone.

At first, he closed his eyes so as not to see the shadows of the trees that were cast in the windows, like bright ghosts that flickered in the bluish light of lightning. When the thunder boom swept through the room, Reinaldo didn't have enough hands to cover his eyes and ears at the same time.

In the interval between one lightning and another, he ran from the sofa to close the shutters on the windows, so as not to allow the spectral light to fall on him. With everything closed, he returned to the sofa, snuggling as much as he could under the covers, praying that he had managed to remove the traces of the storm. It didn't work. Soon the strange noises from his friend's house began to bother him. It was the raindrops on the window, the wind whipped the leaves of the trees, the incessant storms. Even the ticking of the clock scared him and helped give the environment the same dark aura of horror movies.

Every hour the carillon gave sinister ballads. Reinaldo counted them, one by one, embittering the lack of sleep caused by the horror. With his eyes open, he heard the chime of ten, eleven, midnight ... all accompanied by the cruel symphony of the storm. At the height of panic, a muffled thud froze him on the couch. Someone had slammed the door, almost knocked it down. Reinaldo stifled a cry of fear, doing his best to stay where he was. But panic completely overwhelmed him, robbing him of his reasoning ability, making him see and hear monsters where there was only nature.

He couldn't take it anymore. He jumped off the sofa and ran down the dark hallway. He opened the door to Augusto's room immediately, flinging himself onto the bed next to him, shaking and panting. In the room, the shadows and the noise continued to take turns. Reinaldo did not even realize that the knock on the door was caused by a tree branch that had fallen at the entrance of the house. With the blow to the mattress, Augusto woke up scared, feeling the trembling body of his friend next to his.

Reinaldo, he said drowsily. What happened?

Please, Augusto, let me stay here, the other complained. Strange things are happening there in the room. I think someone is looking to get in.

- It's just rain.

- No means no. I heard a knock on the door.

- Who was going to knock on the door on a night like this?

The silent response was enough. Augusto let out a resigned sigh and stepped aside, making room for Reinaldo, who sat down next to him. Since the bed was too small for both of them, they pressed against each other to fit. Augusto quickly went back to sleep. Reinaldo, now safe, fell asleep quickly.

They continued until the next morning. The rain had stopped when Laura woke up. The first thing she did was check on the unexpected guest. What was your surprise when you found the sofa empty, and the covers scattered on the floor? At first, she thought he was in the bathroom, but the door was open, with no one inside. Perhaps Reinaldo had woken up earlier to call Augusto for school. Yes, it could only be that. He prayed that this was so, that Jaime was wrong.

In her son's room, everything seemed quiet. Like Jaime, Laura put her ear close to the door and tried to hear a sound coming from inside. The response to the silence filled her with fear. She hesitated but plucked up her courage, slowly turned the handle and slowly opened the door. The room was still dark. She pushed the door a little further, giving way to the light from the hall, which slipped slightly into the room.

What she saw filled her with dread and fear. Lying on the bed, under the same blanket, Augusto and Reinaldo slept holding each other. In fact, Reinaldo's arm had been stretched out over the other, giving the impression of a hug. Laura's first reaction was to shake them both and yell at them. Then she thought of calling Jaime, so that he could take a brisk step. She changed her mind, fearful of her husband's attitude. She walked over to the bed, lowered the covers, and asked deliberately, What are you two doing?

Taken by surprise, the boys woke up at the same time, trying to fix their eyes on Laura to understand what was happening.

If your father sees you two in that bed, he won't like it, he continued, without waiting for an answer. Get up, come on, before he gets there.

They both got up sleepily, rubbing their eyes, not understanding.

- What time is it? - Augusto asked.

  Without answering, Laura ordered irritably:

- Go wash yourself, Reinaldo, and then go home.

Yes, ma'am, the boy replied humbly, intimidated by her tone of voice.

- Why were they sleeping in the same bed? - She asked as soon as she heard the bathroom close.

- Reinaldo was scared.

- And he ran to your bed, right? Your dad won't like this at all. I didn't want to give you a reason, but now I don't know what to think.

- What do you mean, mother? I'm not understanding.

- Get dressed and don't say anything.

As Augusto waited his turn to go to the bathroom, the doorbell squeaked, and Laura went to answer it. The fallen branch had been pushed aside, and Reinaldo's mother waited anxiously.

- Excuse me for bothering you so early - Alcina only said -. Reinaldo didn't come home yesterday, I'm very worried. The phones went off. I was wondering if he had slept here, with all that rain.

- Yes, he slept here, Laura said dryly.

- Oh! Thank God! - And, surprised by her coldness, she said worried: - Is everything okay?

Laura didn't answer, just looked at her with disdain. Certainly, something had happened. Before Alcina