GIL

The next summer my brother Levi became eighteen and left the house to go and live in Pérola’s old apartment with my cousin Rio. I was only fifteen, and couldn’t do much about it. It became really depressing living with my father, Pérola, and Eva. My sister was almost five, and she needed a room of her own, so my father asked Levi if he would like to share a place with Rio, who was his age, and Levi obviously loved the idea, so I was left alone. I asked my father plenty of times if I could move into my grandmother Matilde’s house, but he wouldn’t have it. He would let me have dinner there sometimes, and lunch, or even spend the weekend, but he wouldn’t let me move into her house. After all, he was my father, so I had to live with him, as he would put it. However, there were compensations for being fifteen, and I was allowed to go out with Marco and Sara. Not just out to the cinema or something, but really out, at night, until as late as I wanted. And they obviously took me to Subtil. However, I have to say, the place wasn’t as nice as Sara had described it to be. She had made me think that it was the coolest disco on Earth, but I didn’t even like the music. I told her, and she smiled and explained that things had changed, that my brother wasn’t playing such underground songs anymore, because the place had become prominently gay, and gays enjoyed other kinds of music. Nonetheless, I did have fun. I got drunk, I guess, and danced a lot. After a while I changed my mind about the place. There was something to it, and the more crowded it got, the better it became. Everybody seemed to be really cool, or well dressed, or something. Sara kept introducing me to people, and there was a certain mood to all of them. I felt protected, even though I didn’t know them. I felt well. Then I saw a guy that looked like Oto, but wasn’t. But he really looked like Oto, but it wasn’t him. Could it be him? No, it couldn’t. But it was him. Or was it the lights? And while I was looking and trying to understand if it was him or not, Andresa said something to Sara that included the name Gil. That’s all I heard from her sentence, mixed up with the music, but it was enough for me to remember that Oto and Noel’s younger brother, Gil, had also just returned from Macao. By that time, I guess I was really drunk, or else I don’t know what came over me, because I danced straight to him, stopped right in front of his face, smiling, and told him something like ‘So…. you’re Gil, I’m Lara, the very young one, nice to meet you. God! You’re even more beautiful then Oto! Well, gotta go now… bye!’ and left dancing again. He didn’t have a chance to say a word, and I didn’t even notice if he smiled or not. I was kind of blind, or possessed, or something. And, of course, I made the weirdest first impression.

Nonetheless, two days later, a Saturday, I went out with Sara again. She took me to a bar and we were drinking for a while, then she went to the toilet and I was alone when Gil suddenly came to sit in front of me at the table. He said ‘Excuse me, but I would like to ask you if you ever wondered what’s behind the mirrors’, to what I promptly replied ‘Well, I suppose it’s the opposite of what’s in front of them’. He contested ‘Ah! You see, but this way you would get a black reflection of yourself’. And I thought ‘Oh, come on…’ and replied ‘That’s just the reflection, that would be too obvious!’.

He smiled. Sara returned, said hello and gave him two kisses on the cheeks, and then told me she was going to get more drinks. ‘Está bem’, I replied, and off she went. Gil continued:

‘You have been reading Through The Looking Glass, haven’t you?’

‘Well’ I said ‘I have read it, yes, but not recently’.

‘Don’t you think you could possibly be under the influence of Lewis Carroll’s ideas?’

‘Well, yes… actually, you’re right; nonetheless, they make so much sense, don’t they?’

‘Some say they’re nonsense’ he replied.

‘Oh, well, that must be the perspective of the common sense, anyway’.

He smiled again, and asked:

‘Did you read the book in English or in Portuguese?’

‘Portuguese’.

Sara came back with the drinks and set down. She also brought a beer for Gil.

‘Ah, obrigada!’ he thanked her.

‘De nada’ she said. ‘You didn’t know each other yet, did you?’

‘We met two nights ago’ explained Gil ‘Lara introduced herself very eloquently’.

“Oh, God, I can imagine! Considering how drunk she was’ said Sara ‘She was so happy! How was your trip back from Macao?’

‘The usual. As soon as the plane took off, all the passengers started dancing’.

‘Well, guys, Andresa is here, I’m going to talk to her a bit, she’s with some friends’ informed Sara.

‘See you so’ I replied.

‘You should read the book in English’ said Gil.

I looked at him for two seconds, not understanding.

‘Oh, you mean Through The Looking Glass?’

‘Yes’ he replied ‘Did you know that Lewis Carroll was a mathematician?

‘Really? No, I didn’t know that’.

‘That’s why his books dealt so much with logic’ he explained.

‘Oh… maybe that’s why I find there’s some kind of magic in mathematics’.

‘Yes’ he agreed ‘There’s definitely some kind of magic in mathematics, and in every other science’.

‘Right. It’s like everything is connected’.

‘Precisely’ he concurred. And then he went on explaining how biology, geography, astronomy, astrology, philosophy, law, economy and literature were all connected. While he was talking, I was looking at him as if he wasn’t a person. I was dividing him into two different guys: Noel and Oto. He was blondish and had the same blue green pupils as Noel, but the shape of his eyes, his nose and his mouth were exactly the same as Oto’s. His voice had the same low tone as the voices from both his brothers, and his eyes were very hypnotic, just like Noel’s eyes. And then I noticed his way of dressing, which was not only entirely his own, but also quite unique in itself, or, should I say, totally retrograde. He wore very sober clothes, definitely unlike his brothers. No jeans, but old fashion pants extremely neat looking. No T-shirts, but an ironed stripy shirt with its collar coming out of the triangular throat jumper he wore on top. And no Doctor Martin’s or Chinese shoes, but shiny waxed Italian shoes. He moved very gentleman like, spoke very gentleman like, and his hair wasn’t up in the air like the hair of his brothers, it was parted on the side and absurdly combed to the extremities. Still, he looked quite astonishingly gorgeous in the midst of all his weirdness, like some kind of beautiful looking absolute nerd.

‘He found a door, you know’ he told me, after completing his monologue about science and it’s synchronicity with the universe.

‘Who?’

‘Lewis Carroll.’

‘Oh. Yes, well, not him, actually Alice did, didn’t she?’

‘Well, he did, and she was the door.’

‘Oh, yes, of course, I see what you mean’.

‘Through Alice, Lewis Carroll found the entrance to a world that allowed him to share his knowledge with the rest of us’ Gil explained ‘And maybe clarify some things to himself’.

‘Did you find your door yet?’ I asked him.

‘Yes’ he replied ‘My door is my trust in myself. Everybody else thinks I’m crazy, but I don’t think so, I know that only I can see things that no one else can see’.

‘How about your door to communicate with others, did you find that one yet?

‘No’, he answered. ‘Did you?’

‘No’.

‘Are you even close?’

‘I don’t know’ I replied ‘I’m writing a book, and I’m understanding worlds of new things through it’.

‘So you’re a writer…’ he commented.

‘Well, I suppose I am, because that’s what I do’.

‘What are you writing about?’

‘I’m writing about my dreams. I’m making them come true’.

‘What kind of dreams are you talking about?’

‘Daydreams’.

‘I see. That’s very interesting, Lara’.

‘How about you? What are you, Gil?’ I asked.

‘I’m a universal scientist’ he replied, smiling. ‘I’m researching life, the universe and everything’.

I smiled back at him. Sara returned and lovingly grabbed my arm:

‘Vamos’ she said ‘I’m going to Subtil and you’re coming with me, I can’t leave you here alone with Gil, you’re already weird enough as it is…’

She was smiling, but she meant it. Gil nonetheless got up and joined us, he didn’t give a shit about Sara’s opinion. He kept on talking to me all the way to Subtil. I must say we must have made a very peculiar pair, the two of us engaged in a never ending conversation, looking as different from each other as we possibly could. A tiny little miss weird with dark witchy clothes and a very messed up hair, walking down the narrow streets of the old Bairro Alto in army boots, accompanied by a tall nerd looking beautiful guy, bended to be able to talk to her, with ironed clothes, combed hair and Italian shoes. Yes, that was weird.

The next time I saw Gil was at a dinner party Noel was giving for his twenty-fourth birthday. Sara had taken me there and as soon as Gil spotted me he came to sit on the chair next to mine. This time he was wearing a tie, if you can believe it. He said:

‘I need your phone number’.

Not hello, how are you, just I need you phone number.

‘OK’ I replied, and so we went looking for a pen at the bar. I wrote my number down on a piece of paper with the words wine, coffee, main dish, soup, desert, bread and beverage printed on it. Gil seemed very happy just to see me. I must admit I kind of missed him too, although this was only a few days after we had last seen each other at Subtil. Sara had dragged me along with her to the dance floor, and Gil didn’t dance. He just stood there, on the side, smiling and drinking whiskey. When I looked around for him again he was gone.

‘What happened to you, the last time?’ I asked him, while we were heading back to the dinner table.

‘Oh, I had to go’ he told me ‘I didn’t want to impose myself on you too much’.

‘I see. That’s sweet’ I commented, and he smiled and put his hand on my shoulder. I remember looking down at the red carpet of the restaurant and feeling my knees go soft, and then I just remember opening my eyes and seeing a lot of faces staring surprisingly at me, with the lights from the ceiling shining behind them.

‘Lara!’ said Sara ‘Are you all right?’

‘Yes’ I replied, trying to get up, surrounded by helping hands. ‘I just fainted, that’s all’.

‘Just fainted?’ Sara asked ‘Do you suppose that’s normal?’

‘Yes. For me it’s normal. Let’s just eat, shall we?’

‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ Oto asked me.

‘Yes, Oto, I’m fine, I’m fine, I swear’.

Everybody was looking suspiciously at Gil, and he was just smiling. Actually, he looked as if he was going to burst into laughter, but just managed to control himself.

‘Let me take you outside to get some fresh air’ he proposed.

‘Great!’ I said ‘That’s exactly what I need!’

‘I’ll come with you’ said Sara.

‘No, really, I’m OK, Gil will take me outside’.

Sara consented, and Gil and I went out to the huge balcony of the building’s penthouse, where the restaurant was settled. We could see the old castle of Lisbon on top of a hill, and the moon above it, just like in the postcards. We could see the square of Martim Moniz, with the illuminated water fountain in the middle and the trams circling around it on their way to other squares. We could see the black people from the Portuguese ex-colonies who came to live in Lisbon hoping for a better life, hanging around the square, dressed in fancy clothes and distinguishing themselves from the boring Portuguese. We could see some prostitutes and a couple of transvestites going up to the neighborhood called Intendente, for their night work. I could see Gil with his tie and his outdated clothes looking at me with his hypnotic eyes and a persistent smile on his face, and I could picture myself looking very weird as usual, like some kind of mad dark creature who had just fainted at the touch of a hand on her shoulder.

‘What did happen to you in there, Lara?’ Gil asked me.

‘Oh, you know, reality is so much better than dreams’, I answered.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’m not really sure’.

‘I see’ he said ‘Well, it doesn’t matter, anyway’.

‘Exactly’ I agreed ‘Let’s just eat, shall we?’

‘Yes’ he agreed, and into the restaurant we went. Nobody paid particular attention to us again, which was a relief, except, of course, for Gil’s aunt, who happened to be sitting next to me and him. I don’t know why, but she started talking to me as soon as I set down and she never stopped again for the rest of the dinner. She asked me all kinds of questions about myself but, most of all, she told me quite a lot about who she was. How she was born in Africa and was the sister of Gil’s mother, how she taught philosophy for many years, how she’d been to the Himalayas, how she lived in Macao, the small Portuguese ex-colony in China, how she took care of her nephews who were like sons to her, how she had two daughters of her own called Mónica and Dina, how she got divorced because men were not to be trusted, except, obviously, for her lovely and gifted nephews. She had a beautiful black Chinese dress with white flowers on, and her hair was also black and tied up with two Chinese sticks coming out of it. She looked very charming, and, for some reason, reminded me of Elis Regina, the best Brazilian lady singer of all times, as far as I’m concerned. Gil’s aunt finally asked me how old I was, I told her I was almost sixteen, and she replied:

‘You’re too young for him, dear’ and I though to myself ‘If you only knew that the one I like isn’t even the youngest’.

By this time Oto wasn’t in love with Sara anymore, and he already had another girlfriend called Luciana, who was older and reminded me of Jacquelyn Kennedy. She was about as much older than him as he was older than me, and there they were, together and happy. These were the moments when I really hated my life. As for Sara, I’m quite sure she was having some sort of affair with Andresa. It hadn’t been Oto who had broken up with her, it had been the other way around. Sara and Andresa now wore their hairs very short, were much skinnier because they had started smoking heroin, and were closer to each other than they had ever been before. Nobody could penetrate their jokes, their talks, their secrets. They were the absolute pair, and once Sara told me that one night, when they were very drunk, Andresa and her had French kissed.

‘Is my aunt Ágata bothering you?’ Gil asked me, when she left the table to go to the toilet.

‘Oh, no, she’s lovely’ I said ‘But she told me I’m too young for you…’

Gil smiled, and so did I.

‘Maybe we should be careful when we see each other’ he said ‘But I really don’t see why we shouldn’t be friends’.

‘Me neither’.

When his aunt Ágata came back, we stopped talking, and she went on about her life in the Portuguese ex-colonies of Africa. Me and Gil didn’t speak much for the rest of the night, and I went back home with Sara and Andresa.