Tabu Page #3

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blind...

this devoted friend of yours.

Will this beast deserve

such a delicate golden thread?

No,

don't answer.

Doies the painting

look good on the wall?

Very good.

Another one? - Take it.

I painted it thinking of you.

You shouldn't.

Scribbles. The hand is rough

but soul is sensitive.

My God, please forgive me

for being such a fool sometimes.

I beg you to look after

santa and Aurora's health.

Madam is not feeling well.

Oh, Pilar, you're here?

Would you like some tea?

Santa,

see if we have some biscuits left.

Don't worry, Ms Aurora, I'm fine.

Oh, my friend!

I should get up, but I'm so tired.

Africa is very pretty,

but this time of year

the heat really gets to you.

Ms Aurora, you're at the hospital.

- What a nuisance!

Well, maybe I'll get my pills.

Will you wake me if I fall asleep?

- Don't worry, It won't take long.

Don't just stand there, Santa.

You must check the crocodile regularly.

- What crocodile?

I think you're kidding me sometimes.

How many crocodiles have we got?

Go check before the cheeky bugger

hides in Mr Ventura's house again!

It's completely obsessed with him...

You should get some rest, Ms Aurora.

How can I

if the darn crocodile

is always trying

to get into Gian Luca's house?

What if he bites his finger off?

If then you ask for miracles

Death, error, all calamities,

Leprosy and demons fly,

And health succeeds infirmities.

The sea obeys and fetters break,

And lifeless limbs you do restore;

While treasures lost

are found again...

Hi, Santa.

- Hi, Ms Pilar.

Is she here?

- No, visits are over today.

What did the doctor say?

- Nothing to me.

Her daughter?

- Doesn't answer.

You must find this gentleman.

Madam wants to see him.

But you must be quick.

Madam is dying.

Are you a Jehovah's Witness?

I'm Catholic.

- So am I.

Can I help you?

This may sound weird,

but is there a Mr Ventura here,

by any chance?

That's me.

Gian Luca Ventura?

That's the old man. He's in a home.

Is he your father?

My great-uncle.

He lived here some years ago.

I need to talk to him.

Well, a friend of mine does,

she's a friend of your uncle.

Come in.

Make yourself a t home.

The dogs are harmless.

They like children.

Oops! But I am not a child...

But you're kind.

Dogs can see that and so can I.

I didn't know

the old man had any friends.

I only heard of him yesterday.

I thought he didn't actually exist.

Yes, he does.

But he's gone bonkers.

"Rising Sun" nursing home

Gian Luca Ventura.

Yes. It's me, Santa.

I'm on my way to the hospital

with Mr Ventura

- Yes, I am... -I wasn't

expecting it so early.

"In loving memory of my mother"

Mr Ventura,

will you join us for coffee

before you go home?

She had a farm in Africa...

Pardon?

Aurora had a farm in Africa

at the foothill of Mount Tabu.

She never met her mother.

She died after giving birth,

lamenting the time wasted

closed in a bedroom

to scape the mosquitoes,

read romantic novels

and heal a chronic headache.

Her dad, a man of easy wrath,

has abandones a small

industrial wool empire in Portugal,

because he resented the monarchy.

He settled in Africa,

where he was successful again

exporting

cushions of ostrich feathers worldwide,

famous for their softness and elegance.

Had it not been

for his gambling addiction,

Aurora

would have inherited a fortune.

PART TWO.

PARADISE:

Aurora grew up

according to her social status,

between private tutors

and black servants.

Bur her gracefulness

in reciting verses

did not stop her

from malicious behaviour

in which

some saw devilish influences,

others saw

whims of a spoiled childhood.

Before his apoplexy, her dad

was proud of his daughter's feats,

recognising the traits

of a strong temperament.

The father's death made her

more of a dreamer and introspective.

Her talent for big game hunting,

for which she became famous worlwide,

was due to her father's influence.

She was a hunting consultant

in the film

"It Will Never Snow Again

over Kilimanjaro",

an RKO box office flop

that caused the producer

to commit suicide.

Aurora didn't care:

cinema bored her to death.

When hunting elephants,

lions and leopards

she was truly chasing

her father's memory,

something she felt

ever more present

when running through

the vast savannah.

This inflexion

in Aurora's character

benefited her studies.

She studied German

at an Anglophone University.

She met her husband

at the graduation ball.

The look of this confident posture

greatly impressed her,

as well as

the perfection of his waltz.

The couple set up home

on the western slope of Mount Tabu.

The mythical hill

was generous to all:

it offered Aurora's husband

the perfect climate for his tea crops,

the academics

the hope of having found

the cradle of humanity,

and the natives

their indispensable local myths.

The natives saw

their ancestors' avenging spirits

in the haze that descended

from the mountain at dusk.

None of this occupied

Aurora's mind,

she loved her husband

and was happy.

But her taste for adventure

was merely dormant,

numbed by the extravagant presents

that livened up her routine existence.

Allow me to skip the misadventures

that led me to leave

my father's house in Genoa.

I crossed the South Pacific

on a commercial vessel,

docked in exotic Far Eastern towns

and lived an infamous romance

in Paris

with a Hungarian countess,

unfortunately a married one.

I broke many hearts in my time.

That didn't benefit me

nor give me any happiness.

I made easy money

and spent it effortlessly.

Ina bohemian night in Lisbon

I met Mario, a student priest.

An outsider like me,

he was celebrating

abandoning the dioceses

due to a lack of vocation.

He spoke passionately

about his roots in Africa,

where he wanted to return.

These stories fuelled me,

so I told my new buddy

of my firm decision to see his land.

More than its promises

of exoticism and an easy life,

Africa opened doors to a new world

free of gambling debts

and love troubles.

I had barely arrived

when I was offered

a good office job

ina respectable firm,

with a schedule from 9 to 5.

Santos e Irmo,

a small mining company,

had a good reputation

for labour relations

regarding white employees.

My lack of ambition

quickly made me

the bosses' right-hand man.

Mario,

also known as the Priest,

the Sheriff,

the African and the Boss,

was profuse

in passions and activities.

His grandfather, the community's

pioneer and spiritual leader,

had been sent there for life

when the colony

was mainly a colonial prison.

Mario always wore

his grandfather's crucifix

around his neck,

maybe because he couldn't fulfil

the old man's dream

of becoming a priest.

His vocal versality

delighted the African youngsters,

and Mario,

a good cultivator of his ego,

founded Mario's Band.

Women were sensitive to this charm

and my friend showed

a preference for the natives.

He would father a child

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