But neither this argument nor another, however subtle, can help them to evade the main problem. José Anaiço and Joaquim Sassa must be told. How will they react and what expression will come over their faces when their respective women tell them, I'm pregnant. Were the situation more harmonious, they would be, as one is wont to say, overcome with joy, and perhaps even now, with the initial shock, their faces and expressions would betray the sudden jubilation that springs from the soul, but their faces would soon cloud over, their eyes would darken, foretelling a dreadful scene. Joana Carda suggested that they say nothing, with the passing of time and the swelling of their bellies, the evident fact of the matter would soothe ruffled susceptibilities, would appease offended honor and reawakened resentment. But Maria Guavaira did not agree, she felt that it would be sad for the courage and generosity shown on all sides to end in a feeble deception, in a cowardice worse than tacit complacency. You're right, Joana Carda conceded, we must take the bull by the horns, she answered, without realizing what she was saying, that is the danger of using certain expressions without paying enough attention to the context.
That same day the two women each called her man aside and walked out with him into the country, there where the wide open spaces reduce the most choleric and rending cries to mere whispers, that unfortunately is the reason why human voices fail to reach heaven, and there, without beating about the bush, as they had agreed, the women said, I'm pregnant and I'm not sure whether you're the father or Pedro Orce is. Joaquim Sassa and José Anaiço reacted as one might have expected. There was the furious outburst, the violent gesticulations, the poignant sorrow, they were out of sight of each other, but their gestures were identical, their words equally bitter, Not satisfied with what has happened, you have the nerve to come and tell me you're pregnant and you don't know who's responsible, How can I be expected to know, and in any case when the child is born there won't be any doubt, What on earth are you talking about, There will be some resemblance, Of course, but suppose it only resembles you, If it only resembles me then it will be my child and no one else's, Are you trying to make a fool of me, I'm not making a fool of anyone, that's something I never do, So how are we supposed to solve the problem, If you could accept that I might have slept with Pedro Orce for one night, then you can put up with waiting nine months before making any decision, if the child resembles you then it's yours, and if it resembles Pedro Orce then it's his and you can disown it and me as well, if that's what you want, and as for only resembling me, don't you believe it, there's always some physical trait that comes from the other partner. And what about Pedro Orce, how do we deal with him, are you going to tell him, No, for another two months nothing will show, especially in these floppy blouses and loose jackets, I think it's best to say nothing, I must say that it would make me angry to see Pedro Orce looking smugly at you, at both of you, with the expression of a champion stud, that was the expression José Anaiço used, with his superior command of language. Joaquim Sassa was much more down to earth, I'd hate to see Senhor Pedro Orce strutting around like the cock of the walk. So in the end the two men resigned themselves to this affront, encouraged by the thought that their worst fears might be proved groundless once nature took its course and the mystery was cleared up.
It did not even dawn on Pedro Orce, who had never known what it meant to have children, that his semen might be germinating in the wombs of the two women. How true that man never gets to know all the consequences of his deeds, here is an excellent example, the memory of the happy moments he enjoyed begins to fade, and their possible effect, modest as yet, but more important in itself than all the rest, should it come to pass and be confirmed, is invisible to his eye and concealed from his knowledge. God Himself made men, yet does not see them. Pedro Orce, however, is not entirely blind, he can see that something has upset the harmony within the couples, a certain remoteness has crept in, not exactly coldness, more a note of reserve without hostility, but causing long periods of silence, the journey had begun so well and now it is as if they had nothing more to say to each other, or as if they were too frightened to utter the only words that would have made any sense. It was over and done with, what had been alive was now dead, if that is what it is all about. It could also be that the fire of those first jealous moments had been rekindled with the passage of time. And perhaps because no one saw me passing, Pedro Orce started going for long strolls again into the surrounding neighborhood whenever they set up camp. It is almost incredible how much this man can walk.
One day, after they'd already left behind the first foothills that announce the Pyrenees from afar, Pedro Orce had gone ahead along secluded roads, feeling almost tempted never to go back to the camp, these are thoughts that come into one's head in moments of weariness, when he came across a man resting by the roadside. He looked about his own age, if not older, but worn out and tired. Beside him stood a donkey with packsaddle and load, nibbling at the sun-bleached grass with its yellow teeth, for the weather, as we mentioned earlier, is not very favorable for fresh growth and causes what new shoots there are to sprout out of place and out of season, nature has lost its way, as any lover of metaphors would say. The man was chewing a lump of stale bread and nothing else, obviously in bad shape, a tramp without food or shelter, but he seemed peaceful and harmless and, besides, Pedro Orce is not easily intimidated, sis he has clearly shown on these long walks through deserted countryside. The dog hasn't left him for a moment, or rather it has left him twice, but in better company and out of sheer discretion.
Pedro Orce greeted the man, Good afternoon, and the other replied, Good afternoon, both men noted a familiar pronunciation, a southern accent, that of Andalusia, to put it in a nutshell. But the man eating the stale bread found it highly suspicious to come across a man and a dog in these parts, remote from any habitation, and looking as if they had been dropped there by a flying saucer, as a precaution, and without trying to conceal it, he reached out for his stick, which had a metal tip and was lying on the ground. Pedro Orce observed this gesture and the tramp's uneasiness, he was probably afraid of the dog as it stood there watching him, its head lowered, without moving a muscle. Don't worry about the dog, it's quite gentle, well, not exactly gentle, but it won't attack unless it thinks it's in danger of being harmed. How can the dog tell when someone is going to harm it. Now that's a good question and I wish I knew the answer, but neither I nor my traveling companions have been able to discover the dog's breed or where it came from. I thought you were on your own and lived nearby, I'm traveling with some friends, we have a wagon and because of what's happened we set out along the road, and we've never left it. You're from Andalusia, I can tell from your accent. I'm from Orce in the province of Granada. I hail from Zufre in the province of Huelva. Pleased to meet you, The pleasure's mine. May I join you for a moment, Make yourself comfortable, but I'm afraid all I can offer you is some stale bread. Many thanks, but I've already eaten with my companions, Who are they, Two friends and their women, the two men and one of the women are Portuguese, the other woman is Galician, And how did you all meet up. Ah, that's a long story.