September 26, Thursday

The moment I’ve been preparing for is almost here and after a couple of days of pretending to be a fashion plate and a tourist it’s gotten harder and harder to distract myself. I park in front of a busy restaurant in Leblon so I can time my arrival outside the gate in São Conrado at midnight. I don’t want to get there too early because it’s dark and right next to the favela. I check my watch and it’s 11:20, so I had better get going to leave time for anything unexpected. I start the engine and put the Gordini in gear, pulling out into traffic and driving south toward Avenida Niemeyer. As I round the final curve, the lights of São Conrado extend from the beach up the hillsides, and I turn to drive up the Pedra da Gávea road. The street is nearly deserted with the businesses closed, and I park in the block past the gated entrance, which now has no guards, turning the car around to face back in the direction I came. My heart is hammering in my chest and I take deep breaths. It’s ten minutes until midnight. I can’t stand sitting anymore and the gate is deep in shadow so I get out of the car and walk closer, hiding in the trees across the road, where I have a better view.

The minutes crawl by and there is no traffic. Then the gate creaks open slowly and mechanically and I hold my breath. No one appears for minute upon minute, until I see a stumbling figure coming down the road to the gate, looking right and left, then tentatively stepping on to the sidewalk. It’s so dark I can’t see the man well, but I know it has to be Luiz so I step into the street and the figure moves toward me haltingly and I rush forward and stop a few steps from the person. The man is hunched over and seems older and I begin to doubt it’s him.

He looks up. A gasp and a little sob. “Eva, oh my God, is that you?”

I throw my arms around him and can’t believe how thin he is. “Yes. It’s me. Let’s go.”

He feels fragile as I help him into the passenger seat, and I rush around to turn on the engine and stick it into first gear to get the hell away from here. I’m driving too fast around the curves and constantly checking the rear-view mirror because the devil himself could be following us. As we descend to the populated area I slow down and head back on Avenida Niemeyer.

“Eva, you’re something.” His voice is scratchy and his hand is trembling as he pats me on the thigh.

“I love you.” I don’t say anything more because I don’t want to cry and I have to navigate the road above the ocean until we get to Leblon. Once we are on the avenue along the beach at Ipanema, I pull the car over and park. The bars are busy and there are people walking on the promenade.

Now I cry. “Oh, thank God I got you. Thank God. Let’s go sit on the beach.”

We stop at the edge of the sand and I take off my chic new sandals and Luiz is wearing a pair of flip-flops that I take as he removes them. The waves are crashing on the shore and people at the bars are singing and laughing and we sit in silence holding hands.

“Eva, I . . .”

“We will have lots of time to talk. You’re safe. We’re together. Shhhhh.”

We lie back on the sand and look up at the stars, the Southern Cross bright against the white swathe of the Milky Way. An hour later we get back in the car and I drive to the guesthouse in Botafogo. He walks slowly and has to stop and rest every few steps as we climb the stairs to our room. The canaries wake up and begin chirping and warbling and waving their wings as I put the key in the door. Luiz sits on the bed.

“Querido, let’s take a shower.” I reach for his hand and pick up the clean towels. Luiz follows me to the bathroom. I unbutton his shirt and slip it off, and his pants just fall around his feet. I turn on the water and adjust the temperature and he steps under the water, groaning.

“Oh my God, Luiz!” His back is covered in angry red scabs and healing linear scars.

“That part was easiest.” I gently soap him all over, appalled at how much muscle he has lost. He sits on the toilet seat as I towel him dry, and stops me when I begin to wash his clothes. “I will never wear those again.”

“That’s all right, I’ll get you some new clothes tomorrow.” I wrap the towel around his waist and secure it, walking with him back to the room. We lie down on the bed together, I put my arms around him from behind and feel his heart racing. It takes a long time until he calms down and I hear from his breathing that he is sleeping.