A hard rain fell on the city before dusk. They covered Alfredo Bomba with an old tarpaulin that had been discarded behind the petrol station. But he seemed not to notice; he was deep in his restless dreams.
'Old people are supposed to die,' Nascimento said, wiping the rain from his face. 'Old people, not children. Not even the ones who just live on the street like Alfredo Bomba.'
'You're right,' Nelio said. 'That's something that this world should hurry up and learn.'
Nascimento sat still in the rain, looking at Alfredo Bomba. 'Can spirits die?' he asked. 'In the same way that people do?'
Nelio shook his head. 'No. Spirits can't be born and they can't die. They just are.'
'I think Alfredo Bomba will be much better off than he is now,' Nascimento said.
'Old people are supposed to die,' Nelio said. 'Not children.'
'I think he'll be back with his dog,' Nascimento said hesitantly. 'Alfredo Bomba likes dogs, and dogs like him.'
'You're probably right. But be quiet now.'
Late that night the rain stopped. Alfredo Bomba was asleep. Everyone was tense. Pecado made frequent forays out to the street to keep an eye on the armed watchmen outside the theatre. 'It's Armandio and Julio tonight,' he said. 'Armandio, the fat one, is asleep. But Julio usually stays awake.'
'They won't hear a thing,' Nelio said. 'We'll go soon.'
Earlier in the day Nelio had gone to the marketplace and borrowed two thick broomsticks from an old broom-maker that he knew from before. On his way back he caught sight of Senhor Castigo being dragged down the street between two policemen. He was battered and bloody, and his clothes were hanging in tatters, as if an enraged mob had tried to rip him to shreds. He saw Nelio too. For a brief, confused moment he tried to remember who the boy with the two broomsticks could be. But Nelio doubted that he had recognised him.
Senhor Castigo is an omen, he thought. He has been caught and beaten. In the dark cells of the police station he'll be beaten even more. Soon there will only be scraps left of what might once have been a human being. If I hadn't escaped from him, I might have ended up just like him.
By pulling two old vests over the broomsticks, they made a stretcher. At midnight, they lifted Alfredo Bomba, who was delirious, and carried him across the deserted street. They listened in the shadows before they opened the back door and slipped into the theatre. While Nelio groped his way over to the light panel in the dark, the others waited behind the stage. Nelio made a faint dawn light sweep across the dark stage, a pink glow above a sea that was still asleep. He went back to the others, and they set the stretcher down, close to the footlights. Nelio sat down beside Alfredo Bomba while the others left to get ready. He didn't want to wake him yet. He could feel from Alfredo's forehead that he had a high fever.
After a while Nascimento stuck his monster-head out from the wings and whispered that they were ready. Nelio nodded. The next moment a wind started blowing. It came gusting in from the wings, from the mouths of Pecado and Mandioca and the others. Gently Nelio woke up Alfredo Bomba, coaxing him out of his deep slumber. When Alfredo Bomba opened his eyes, Nelio was bending over his face.
'Do you hear the wind?' he asked.
Alfredo Bomba listened. Then he nodded weakly.
'It's the wind from the sea,' Nelio said. 'We're on our way to the island that your mother told you about.'
'I must have fallen asleep, Alfredo Bomba said. 'Was I sleeping? Where are we?'
'On a ship,' Nelio said, his torso swaying slowly. 'Do you feel the swells?'
Alfredo nodded again. Nelio helped him to sit up, leaning him against the side of the stage.
Then he left Alfredo Bomba sitting there alone and went back to his light panel.
In his old age, when death had already taken root in his body, Old Alfredo Bomba made the journey that he had dreamed of and prepared for all his life. One night, when the tide was out and the water had retreated, he waded out to a little fishing boat with a lateen sail that was going to carry him along the coast to the estuary, which only those trusted by their mothers could find. On board the fishing boat was an invisible helmsman, a dog and a man with a sack of rice; a shipwrecked monster appeared occasionally at the side of the boat. They navigated by the stars and held a steady course for the second star in Pegasus. Before dawn, they were struck by a storm from the north-east; the wind tore at the sail, thunder boomed and bolts of lightning criss-crossed each other. Afterwards the sea was calm again, the shipwrecked monster seemed to have perished in the waves, and the man with the rice sack stood motionless in the bow, searching for the mouth of the river. The dog was lying next to Alfredo Bomba. It had hands instead of paws, but with the wisdom of his years, Alfredo Bomba realised that journeys along unknown coasts meant travelling in the company of strange creatures that no one had ever seen before. They drew close to land in the early dawn. The coast was lined with steep cliffs. The man in the bow offered a handful of rice to the sea, and then a river broke through the cliffs. They sailed up the river, which at first was very wide. The monster returned in the shape of a crocodile. But Alfredo Bomba felt quite safe in the company of the invisible helmsman, the dog and the man with the sack of rice. On the river banks people were visible, and they all waved to him. Alfredo Bomba had the feeling that he recognised the people waving to him, just as he thought the dog lying at his side was a dog he had met earlier in his life. But he thought this might have been when he was quite young, still only a child. After they had been sailing for a long time, the boat scraped against an invisible sand bar in the middle of the river. The dog stood up on his human-like hind legs, picked up the sack of rice, and waded off towards an island, which lay close to the place where the boat was stranded. The man who had been standing in the bow throughout the voyage, ceaselessly scanning the waters, now turned his head for the first time. Alfredo Bomba seemed to recognise him too. It was a face that came gliding towards him out of his past. Then he remembered who it was.
'Pecado,' he said. 'Is it really you?'
'Pecado was my father. I am his son.'
'I remember him,' Alfredo Bomba said dreamily. 'You look a lot like him. But he didn't have a crooked moustache under his nose.'
'Here we are. Let me help you ashore.'
Pecado's son helped the feeble Alfredo Bomba out of the boat. For a moment they were wrapped in the sea, which resembled a blue silk cloth. They waded a short distance before stepping ashore. The light was now quite strong, as if the sun had grown and was shining with many eyes above his head. Pecado's son set Alfredo Bomba down in a deckchair and opened a parasol over his head. The dog lay down at his side again; the boat and the crocodile had disappeared. It was very quiet.
'What happened to your father?' asked Alfredo Bomba, who felt the silence on the little sandy island carrying him back in time with dizzying speed.
'It was my son who led you here,' Pecado said. 'I am his father.'
Alfredo Bomba looked at him in surprise. Then he noticed that the moustache under his nose was gone. It really was Pecado who was standing next to him.
'Everything seems so long ago,' said Alfredo Bomba, and he felt the sea slowly beginning to seep into his body. A wave had started rippling inside his skin.
'You've grown old too,' he continued, still looking, at Pecado in amazement.
Pecado smiled. Then he pointed at the river. Alfredo Bomba squinted in the glare of the sunlight. He saw Nelio wading towards him with his trouser legs rolled up. At his side were Nascimento, Mandioca and Tristeza. Soon they had gathered around him. He saw that they were all old, just like him.