Taken by surprise, José Anaiço, who was driving Deux Chevaux at that moment, put his foot down sharply on the brake, as if the line were right there in the middle of the road and he were about to run over it, not that there was any danger of destroying this prodigious bit of evidence, which Joana Carda had described as indestructible, but because of that holy terror that strikes even the most skeptical of men when routine is broken like the thread that broke as we ran it through our hand, confident and with no responsibility but that of preserving, strengthening, and prolonging this thread, and our hand too, as far as possible. Joaquim Sassa looked outside, he saw houses with trees above the rooftops and low-lying fields, the marshes and rice paddies are visible, it's the gentle Mondego, better that than arid rock. Had this been what Pedro Orce was thinking, then Don Quixote of the sad countenance would inevitably come into the story, the one he possessed and the one he presented, when, stark naked, he began jumping up and down like a madman amid the peaks of the Sierra Morena, it would be absurd to draw a comparison with such episodes of knight-errantry, therefore Pedro Orce, on getting out of the car and putting his feet on the ground, simply confirms that the earth is still shaking. José Anaiço walked round Deux Chevaux, went, perfect gentleman that he is, to open the door on the other side, he pretends not to notice the ironic, patronizing smile of Joaquim Sassa, and taking the elm branch from Joana Carda, he extends his hand to help her out, she gives him hers, they clasp hands for longer than is necessary in order to guarantee firm support, but this is not the first time, the first and only other time so far was on the back seat, an impulse, but they did not utter a word either then or now, in a louder or softer tone of voice that might embrace the word spoken by the other with equal force.
This is indeed the hour for explanations, but Joaquim Sassa's question demands others, like the ship's captain who opens sealed orders suspecting that he may find nothing except a blank page, Now where do we go, Now we take this road, Joana Carda replied, and on the way I'll tell you the rest of my story, not that it has anything to do with our coming here, but there's little point in continuing to act like strangers when we've traveled all this way together, You could have told us sooner, either in Lisbon or during the journey, José Anaiço remarked, I don't see why, either you came with me because you were convinced by a single word, or many more words would have been needed to convince you, and then it wouldn't have done much good, As a reward for having believed in you, It's for me to decide your reward and when it should be given, José Anaiço refrained from answering, he played for time, started looking at a row of poplars in the distance, but she heard Joaquim Sassa murmur, What a girl, Joana Carda smiled, I'm no girl, and I'm not the bitch you think I am, I don't think you're a bitch, Domineering, stubborn, conceited, affected, Good heavens, what a list, why not say mysterious and leave it at that, Well, there is a mystery, and I wouldn't have brought anyone here who didn't believe without seeing, not even you in whom no one believes, They're beginning to believe in us now, But I was more fortunate and only needed to say one word, Let's hope many more won't be necessary now. This dialogue was conducted entirely between Joana Carda and Joaquim Sassa, given Pedro Orce's difficulty in understanding and the obvious impatience of José Anaiço, who had been excluded from the conversation through his own fault. But observe how this curious situation, with the differences that always distinguish situations, simply repeats what happened in Granada, when Maria Dolores conversed with one Portuguese but would have preferred to be conversing with another, in this particular case, however, there will be time to explain everything, the man who is really thirsty will have his thirst quenched.
They are now walking along the path, which is narrow, Pedro Orce is obliged to follow the others, they will explain everything to him later, if the Spaniard is truly interested in the fortunes of these Portuguese. I don't live here in Ereira, Joana Carda began, my home was in Coimbra, I've only been here since separated from my husband about a month ago, for what reasons, well, why bother discussing the reasons, sometimes one is enough, at other times not even lumping them all together will do it, if your own lives haven't taught you this, too bad for you, and 1 repeat, lives not life, for we all have several, and fortunately they kill each other off, otherwise we wouldn't be able to survive. She leapt over a wide ditch, the men followed her, and when the group reassembled, now treading on soft, sandy terrain where the earth had been waterlogged, Joana Carda went on, I'm staying with some relatives, I wanted time to think, but not the usual self-questioning, have I done the right thing, have I done the wrong thing, what is done is done, I wanted time to think about life, what is its purpose, what's my purpose in life, yes, I reached a conclusion, the only possible conclusion, 1 simply do not understand life. The expression on the faces of José Anaiço and Joaquim Sassa is one of bewilderment, this woman, who came down to the city carrying a stick in her hand to proclaim impossible feats of land surveying, has now turned philosopher here in the fields of Mondego, a philosopher of the negative kind, and to complicate matters, in that special category that says yes after saying no, and that will say no after having said yes. Having been trained as a teacher, José Anaiço is better qualified to understand these contradictions, but this does not apply to Joaquim Sassa, he simply senses them and therefore finds them twice as bewildering. Joana Carda continues to speak, having come to a halt because they are now close to the spot she wants to show them, she still has something to say to them, other things will have to wait, I didn't go to Lisbon to find you because of the strange happenings that attracted so much attention but because I saw you as people detached from any apparent logic in the world, and that's precisely how I feel about myself, I would have been very disappointed if you hadn't accompanied me all this way, but you came, perhaps something still has some meaning, or will regain it after having lost all meaning, now come with me.
They enter a clearing away from the river, a circle surrounded by ash trees that appear never to have been pruned, such places are less rare than one imagines, set foot in them and time seems to stand still, the silence seems different, you can feel the breeze all over your face and hands, no, we're not talking about witchcraft and sorcery, this is not a witches' coven or a gate to the other world, that is simply the impression created by these trees in the form of a circle and the ground that appears to have lain undisturbed since the beginning of time, the sand simply came and made it soft, but the soil is heavy beneath the humus, whoever planted the trees like this is entirely to blame. Joana Carda has nothing more to tell them. This is where I used to come to think things over, there can be no more peaceful place on earth, but it's disturbing too, you don't have to answer, but if you hadn't come here you wouldn't be able to understand, and one day, two weeks ago to be precise, as I was walking across the clearing to sit down under that tree over there, I found this branch lying on the ground, I was seeing it for the first time, I'd been here the day before and it wasn't here, it was as if someone had put it here deliberately, but there were no footprints to be seen, the marks you can see there are mine, or else were left by people who passed this way a long, long time ago. They are standing on the edge of the clearing, Joana Carda detains the men a bit longer, these are her final words, I picked up the stick from the ground, the wood seemed to be living as if it were the whole tree from which it had been cut, or rather this is what I now feel as it comes back to me, and at that moment, with a gesture more like a child's than an adult's, I drew a line that separated me forever from Coimbra and the man with whom I lived, a line that divided the world into two halves, as you can see from here.