Bartolomeu Tries to Get Closer
He went up the stairs toward his room. He could hear the sounds of his mother washing the dishes from the last meal. His submission to the man remained unchanged, as he recalled the past circumstances and perceived that only the scenery had changed. Leônidas did not seek her company to vent. On one side, he heard part of his thoughts echoing Bartolomeu’s words, telling him he had always been an obstacle to her happiness. From another perspective, he felt pressured about what he was supposed to be. Within the walls of that labyrinth, he could not save himself—unless he learned to accept the things he could not change. But something was bothering him more than usual.
Bartolomeu slept on the couch; his snoring blended with the sounds coming from the television. He had gotten drunk again, breaking the promise that it would never happen under that roof. Now, the discourse had changed. He no longer acted aggressively toward Rachel or himself, yet he complained about what had happened between him and Phillipe—which made him feel bad for having to listen to such offenses in silence.
Leônidas had no intention of confronting him. He took on the role Bartolomeu wanted him to play, so much so that he didn’t provoke him into lashing out. He was consumed by panic, though it never showed on his face. On the other hand, he felt relieved that the tension placing them in opposing positions had not been established. Surrendering to friendship with him made his fears smaller, as if he could also manipulate him for his own benefit. He was trying to find himself in that without losing himself.
The pack of cigarettes was left within his reach, as if Bartolomeu wanted him to take one furtively. He wished to induce him to use it without having to say so explicitly. As a precaution, Leônidas took a few and threw them in the park trash, to convince the man he was following the planned strategy. But the smell didn’t linger on his clothes, so Bartolomeu wasn’t entirely convinced.
Leônidas found an adult magazine in a drawer in his room. It was indecent and invasive, considering the dilemma of being punished by his mother if he told her, or disregarded by the man if he returned it. Leônidas kept silent, hiding it back among Bartolomeu’s belongings in a way that would make it very difficult to find again.
Still, his behavior didn’t change enough for Bartolomeu to see a difference in him. Bartolomeu wanted to check to see how much he had revised his beliefs compared to what he once believed.
The conversation happened without Rachel present, when Bartolomeu asked if he had ever been interested in a girl. Leônidas told him about what had been his first kiss, though it was met with no consideration. Bartolomeu’s advice seemed inappropriate and reckless. He said Leônidas should go after younger girls so they would be easier to manipulate; he should take as many girls as he could to be more respected among the boys.
Bartolomeu argued that it was normal for a man to make promises he didn’t intend to keep, so the girls would stay around. At the same time, he reaffirmed that women are guided by feelings, so in winning them over, it was necessary to access their intimacy, their insecurities, making them alternate between joy and sadness. Emotional dependence would be inevitable.
Bartolomeu was didactic in claiming that a man must be clever, choosing a woman willing to submit to him. He instructed that he should not allow the woman he took as a partner to work, so she would be less inclined to leave the house.
A good wife does not question the man about what he does when he is away from home, he said. By being affectionate occasionally, he could convince her that it could always be like that. Thus, breaking the bond would become harder, since there would be something good to preserve; a lost purpose that could be rescued, to finally live a dream.
To seal his submission to his instructions, Bartolomeu allowed him to sit at the table with the friends he had invited for a card game. On that occasion, he was served a can of beer, which he tried to refuse, but felt pressured. He kept his composure as long as he could, but as soon as they left, a vomiting crisis began.
He heard Rachel complain about what Bartolomeu had done; however, Bartolomeu countered, trying to downplay the seriousness of his actions. A terrible headache struck Leônidas; he went to sleep with fever and body aches—probably symptoms of anxiety.
In the morning, Bartolomeu apologized, in a sort of explanation that claimed it was normal for the body to need to adapt to alcohol before it could be consumed in greater quantities, trying to convince him not to let the bad experience keep him from trying again, since the same had happened to him at that age.
Leônidas preferred to forget what had happened. More and more, he looked for excuses to leave the house, even if it meant being alone. Phillipe’s face appeared to him in strangers on the street. During the recess days, he couldn’t imagine what the boy was doing, because he couldn’t find him anywhere. And at night, when he closed his eyes, in his thoughts it was as if he could talk to him about everything he couldn’t say to anyone. Phillipe consoled him. It was a small thread of hope, but strong enough to believe that something good could still happen.