Dante's Heart
At the Crossroads (Na encruzilhada)
They stopped walking.
“Us? A bet? Well, so it is, brother; look here, you’re not going to get
deeper into debt....Otherwise the wife will complain.” He smiled.
“If you’re not afraid of standing at a crossroads at midnight, brother, you
won’t be afraid either if certain creatures appear there.”
They started walking again.
“Me afraid of other creatures...? What are you talking about – ghosts in
white sheets? Ghouls?” He released a sharp burst of laughter.
“Or even others...” The Other gave him a serious look. “At a crossroads,
at midnight, anything can happen.”
“Well.” The brother thought. “If the devil appears it’s more serious... If it’s
a werewolf there’s no problem at all.”
“So....Brother, you’re not afraid of werewolves either?”
“Me? Afraid of the werewolf? Oh, for the love of God, brother. For the
love of God...I ‘d stroke him like a dog.”
The Other scratched his beard softly, appreciating the possible bet, his
long nails raking his encrusted pelt. The full beard covered his face, his
hard, bony chin, his scars. He looked at the moon. He said: “So I’ll bet
you, brother.” His voice was thoughtful.
“Yes? What will you bet, brother?”
“I bet, sir, that tomorrow you won’t be brave enough to come to the
crossroads exactly at midnight...”
“Who – me? Exactly at midnight? For the love of God, brother... It’s a bet!
And what are we going to bet?”
“Your silver medal, brother.” The Other smiled, but his smile came from
his throat.
“So it is, brother. And if I win, that excellent old bottle of wine.... What do
you say?”
“I say you’re on, brother... But tomorrow you’ll come here alone!”
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They stopped walking.
“Us? A bet? Well, so it is, brother; look here, you’re not going to get
deeper into debt....Otherwise the wife will complain.” He smiled.
“If you’re not afraid of standing at a crossroads at midnight, brother, you
won’t be afraid either if certain creatures appear there.”
They started walking again.
“Me afraid of other creatures...? What are you talking about – ghosts in
white sheets? Ghouls?” He released a sharp burst of laughter.
“Or even others...” The Other gave him a serious look. “At a crossroads,
at midnight, anything can happen.”
“Well.” The brother thought. “If the devil appears it’s more serious... If it’s
a werewolf there’s no problem at all.”
“So....Brother, you’re not afraid of werewolves either?”
“Me? Afraid of the werewolf? Oh, for the love of God, brother. For the
love of God...I ‘d stroke him like a dog.”
The Other scratched his beard softly, appreciating the possible bet, his
long nails raking his encrusted pelt. The full beard covered his face, his
hard, bony chin, his scars. He looked at the moon. He said: “So I’ll bet
you, brother.” His voice was thoughtful.
“Yes? What will you bet, brother?”
“I bet, sir, that tomorrow you won’t be brave enough to come to the
crossroads exactly at midnight...”
“Who – me? Exactly at midnight? For the love of God, brother... It’s a bet!
And what are we going to bet?”
“Your silver medal, brother.” The Other smiled, but his smile came from
his throat.
“So it is, brother. And if I win, that excellent old bottle of wine.... What do
you say?”
“I say you’re on, brother... But tomorrow you’ll come here alone!”
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