Durval’s mouth watered at the sight of the clay dish on the table with the pintado à urucum. The pintados from the Rio Passa Pato in Santa Tereza weren’t very big, but they were certainly the best the river had to offer, simply the most delicious fish Durval had ever tasted. And that one looked delicious, or maybe it was Durval’s ravenous hunger speaking at that moment. It was already past one in the afternoon.
Melinda cut a generous piece of the fillet with a wooden spoon and served Durval. Then she took some of the urucum sauce with small pieces of tomatoes lightly gratinated in the oven, green bell pepper, and parsley, and drizzled it over the fish on Durval’s plate.
— More?
— It’s great, thank you.
Melinda served the white rice like paper and the pirão, a sauce made from the fish broth thickened with manioc flour. The smell was magnificent.
Durval cut a piece of fish on his plate with a fork, added a bit of rice, pirão, and brought it to his mouth. The urucum, a seed that gives the red color to the sauce, enhanced the mild flavor of the pintado that melted in his mouth. Together with the rice and pirão, it was a burst of flavor.
Only then did Durval realize that Heitor was speaking.
— What did you say?
— Melinda makes the best pintado à urucum in Santa Tereza, I can guarantee you — he smiled at the woman who seemed slightly embarrassed.
— I totally agree — replied Durval. — It’s the best fish I’ve ever eaten in my life! I’m not exaggerating.
— Oh, Mr. Durval, you’re making me blush — said Melinda.
— But it’s true!
— I caught it myself in Barra Mansa — added Heitor.
— I thought pintados only lived in Passa Pato.
— You catch the bigger ones at the bend of Barra, almost reaching the dam, Durval.
— The bend of Barra was where Botelho took me with Dolores to show us the… — he stopped mid-sentence.
— I know all about it! — said Heitor. — Showing the corpse that appeared in your kitchen one moment and disappeared the next — he let out a laugh that made a small piece of fish jump from his mouth.
— I know all about that, Durval! I talked to the coroner. He told me you were arrested by the police there on the riverbanks.
Durval wondered why Heitor would have bothered to talk to the coroner about all that. But he thought it best to stay quiet. He still wanted to know the end of the story about the horned man that Heitor had found in the army lab when he was a captain.
— You were telling me that the horned creature hypnotized you. How was that?
— The eyes, Durval. The eyes of that beast were like fire. They burned inside the soul. It was as if they hooked your heart with a fishing line and pulled it out of your chest. When I realized it, I was approaching the bars of the cage where the monster was trapped.
Episode XLIII continues in the next edition.
JOSÉ GASPAR
Filmmaker and writer
www.historiasdooutromundo.com