After some inquiries, Chico Paco soon got hold of a fledgling station that broadcast country music near the Matacão. Presently, Radio Chico was on the air with country music and a new show called “Answered Prayers.”
Chico Paco went over with his pile of letters and a look of confusion on his face to see Mané Pena’s secretary, Carlos. Carlos, who was as efficient as Mané Pena had said, quickly sorted out the letters. He pointed out that the letters could be classified into several catagories: fan letters and personal questions about Chico Paco (the color of his eyes, et cetera), pleas for carrying out promises, requests for advice, and some hate mail. Finally, there were a few letters from people who claimed that they, too, had made similar journeys to satisfy promises for the sake of some miracle or answered prayer. Carlos prepared a form letter on the computer and answered most of the mail himself. Many letters of support were simply read over the air on Radio Chico.
The letters from persons who had spoken of making similar pilgrimages for answered prayers were answered personally by Chico Paco:
“Dear Brother/Sister So-and-So: I was pleased to read your letter and learn that I am not alone in my mission to walk for answered prayers. Everyday I receive requests from the blessed who need our help. I am only one man with two feet. Can you help me?”
To Chico Paco’s surprise and delight, the response to his own letters was overwhelming. Past pilgrims from all over Brazil converged on the Matacão and the headquarters for “Answered Prayers” to commit themselves to new pilgrimages. In a matter of weeks, Chico Paco surrogates were marching forth from every possible place in Brazil, some walking barefoot, some on their knees, some lugging crosses, others waving banners, bearing abandoned crutches, pushing empty wheelchairs, heading processions with saints carved in wood and plaster of Paris, all in a direction toward the Matacao, all complying with some promise to walk for an answered prayer.
Back at Radio Chico, a growing number of personnel, volunteers, and Chico Paco enthusiasts carefully followed the progress of each pilgrim on enormous wall maps. Radio Chico was kept informed by several jeeps with long-distance connections that were employed to track down and follow the pilgrims and update the show’s listeners. Chico Paco himself hosted the show.
“Brother Zé!” Chico Paco would speak to the pilgrim in some remote town in Goiás. “Hallelujah! You are nearing your destination.”
“That’s so!” Pilgrim Zé would proclaim. “And I want to send my abiding love to my family and to Dona Mariamelia Rosa for whom I am making this great walk.”
“Praise the Lord!” said Chico Paco, hailing his distant pilgrim on. “I believe Sister Clara, who is marching from Paraná, will be meeting you in a few days. Our reports show that she is not but a few miles from where you are.”
“Sister Clara and I will walk to the Matacão together!” announced Brother Zé.
“And I will meet you personally as you arrive!”
The popularity of Chico Paco’s “Answered Prayers” was so enormous that shows were rebroadcast or pumped live to a growing number of stations all over the nation. As Chico Paco’s pilgrims marched to the Matacão, money poured into Radio Chico, “Answered Prayers,” and the new parent institution, the Foundation for Votive Pilgrimages.
Everywhere, people were proclaiming the new church on the radio waves, the living angels marching toward the Matacão and the growth of a new and popular faith based on the renewed belief in prayer itself, Chico Paco as a new religious leader and his pilgrims, now referred to as the New Disciples.
Lourdes, back in São Paulo, listened to the radio with great interest. She had followed the progress of Chico Paco to the Matacão and, weeping tears of joy, observed his arrival for the sake of her son, Rubens. Rubens himself was ecstatic to learn that Chico Paco had released his pigeon from the Matacão. When Radio Chico went national, Lourdes, like so many others, became an avid listener, almost abandoning the prime-time television soap operas. Besides the live updates of “Answered Prayers,” Chico Paco hosted another popular show which interviewed various pilgrims and the actual people whose prayers had been answered, recounted numerous stories of pilgrimages, and gave accounts of famous pilgrims in history. There was also a show in which members from opposing positions on religious issues—usually regarding miracles or answered prayers, saints, and blessing techniques—were invited to debate their opinions. There was also a call-in show in which listeners telephoned and expressed their concerns and experiences on live radio. Throughout the programming, by calling in and giving the correct answer—often the name of a pilgrim or saint for the week—listeners could win free trips to the Matacão or certificates entitling them to one surrogate pilgrim for any answered prayer.
This was how Lourdes won a trip to the Matacão.
Now, Kazumasa and I had not returned to São Paulo. In fact, besides a postcard or two, Lourdes had not heard anything at all about Kazumasa for several months. She had asked Hiroshi about Kazumasa, but Hiroshi had received only a cryptic note about Kazumasa’s having to stay longer in the north. “Don’t worry about him. He’s used to traveling, that ball and him,” Hiroshi told her. “Come out with me for an evening of karaoke,” he urged Lourdes.
But Lourdes shook her head and made excuses. “No, I just can’t get away from my radio program.” But Lourdes missed Kazumasa. She even missed me. Little did she know that J.B. Tweep had made complicated arrangements to send Kazumasa and me up and down and all over the state of Pará to find the very spot where I had been pulled, presumably by another deposit of Matacão plastic. These arrangements were steeped in secrecy; J.B. was taking no chances. GGG Enterprises would have Matacão plastic, or nobody would.
When the deejay announced that Lourdes had won a trip to the Matacão, she was ecstatic, but there was no way to contact Kazumasa to tell him that she would be coming to join him on the Matacão. Lourdes called Tia Carolina to have her take over her duties in that fourteenth-floor apartment. She kissed Rubens and Gislaine good-bye. “I’ll call you when I get there,” she assured them.
Hiroshi saw Lourdes off at the bus station. “Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to go to the Matacão?” Hiroshi asked. “We could have gone together by plane.”
“The bus is fine for me,” Lourdes smiled. “I don’t think I’m the sort to go by airplane. Besides, I won this trip.”
“When you get there,” said Hiroshi, “go to my place on the Matacão. You’ll see the Hiro’s sign in blue neon just like here. You can’t miss it. My people will find you a place to stay. I’ve got some business here, but I should be there by the time you arrive.” Hiroshi looked at Lourdes hopefully, but she felt shy and uncomfortable. She was thinking about Kazumasa.
Lourdes nodded, but four days later, when she arrived on the Matacão, Lourdes made her way to the offices of Radio Chico. Chico Paco was very happy to see Lourdes. He asked about Rubens and Gislaine and even Kazumasa. “Did you know,” he asked Lourdes, “that your patron Seu Kazumasa gave me the money to buy this radio station?”
“So many people have been helped by Seu Kazumasa,” said Lourdes proudly. “He is the most generous man I have ever known. He’s not like anyone I have ever met.” Lourdes sighed. “I haven’t seen him in several months, you know. I am afraid that something may have happened to him.”
Chico Paco detected the urgency in Lourdes’s voice.
Lourdes did not want to lose Kazumasa to the north in the same way she had lost her husband. “I wonder if there is a way to find him. He was supposed to come here to the Matacão, but even his cousin Hiroshi doesn’t know where he is.”
Chico Paco smiled kindly at the woman whose letter had started a whole new way of life for him. “Maybe I can help you find Seu Kazumasa,” he suggested. “If he listens to the radio, maybe he will answer your prayers.”
Lourdes decided to volunteer her time for Radio Chico and the Foundation for Votive Pilgrimages. She would wait to see if Kazumasa could be found, and in the meantime, help Chico Paco out. It was such a big mission for such a young man. It was Lourdes’s idea to start something called “Telephone Pilgrimages.” Lourdes helped to compile a list of answered prayers of more modest nature, such as the recovery of some lost article or treasured possession or the blessings of a raise in pay, which could be telephoned in to the Matacão. “Not everyone has such great needs,” she argued. “But everyone, every day, has some small prayer that God answers. They should have a way to show their thanks.”
Trained “telephone pilgrims” were soon waiting to receive these calls and to place the blessed person’s promise on the Matacão in the form of a lighted candle, prayer or statuette, any one of which could be purchased by a small donation to the foundation. Lourdes made sure that a certificate or prayer book signed by Chico Paco himself was sent out to assure the caller of a completed act of devotion on his or her behalf. And every day, Lourdes herself set a candle at Saint George’s altar, praying for Kazumasa’s speedy return.
Then there came the idea of using pigeons as votive messengers. Batista had lent Chico Paco a pigeon couple to try the idea out. “Where did you get such an idea?” Batista asked Chico Paco.
“There was a woman who called the show from São Paulo the other day. I don’t remember her name.”
“Woman from São Paulo?” Batista bristled. She could only be Tania Aparecida. Was she trying to kill him with work?
Of course, the foundation was quick to see the possibilities in homing pigeons, symbolic representatives of the Holy Ghost, and immediately contracted with Djapan Enterprises for five hundred pigeon pilgrims. Batista worked day and night to breed pigeons until there was no more room for cages on the penthouse roofs off the Matacão. People below them were beginning to complain about the pigeon droppings on their windows, cars, and incoming guests. Batista had to buy a small plot of land not too far from the Matacão and continued breeding pigeons there.
The pigeons earmarked as the foundation’s votive messengers were carefully packaged in special cages with complete instructions and sent by air to requesting parties within the suggested radius of the Matacão. Pigeons returned from everywhere to the Matacão with votive messages and prayers. As the messages arrived, a Radio Chico announcer read them over the air. “Chico Paco,” said the announcer, “I think I hear the bell. A votive pigeon has arrived!” Every day, dozens of new callers telephoned in with donations and requests for pigeon pilgrims. The votive pigeon was becoming almost as popular as the telephone pilgrimage. In time, Batista would count as many as a thousand pigeons homing in from various places to the Matacão.
One day, Chico Paco answered a call from a small northeastern coastal town. He could almost hear and feel the sea breeze sifting through his golden hair. “Chico Paco,” said a familiar voice, “this is Gilberto. I have sad news to tell you. My grandmother Maria Creuza is no longer with us. She has gone to heaven.”
Chico Paco felt the tears well up in his green eyes, not so much for the old woman, who was after all very old, but for the memory of his friendship and the strange empty place in his heart which could only be filled by his dreams. How hard it was to comply with God’s will.
“How long has it been? Almost two years? I miss you, Chiquinho,” said Gilberto. “So does your mother. I’ve been thinking that your mother and I could come to visit you.”
Chico Paco’s heart leapt. From that moment, it would be held aloft until the waves engulfed it and the tide would take it out to sea.