I saw him sitting surrounded by cackling chickens and dogs that barked relentlessly at our car tires as we drove into the back of the yard, yet as he sat there, he was in a most profound silence and by looking at him I knew that he had been there for longer than should be spoken. I looked at the small cunucu house window and saw a woman inside that was sitting on a rocking chair and rocking back and forth across her small window - sometimes disappearing from view and then appearing again. Hers was a steady rhythm, a flow of slow and deliberate life.
They had farmed the land in back of them and raised 5 children. Two of their children died - one at birth and another at sea, the remaining five children were not lawyers or doctors or architects or the like - no - they worked as clerks in banks and waiters in hotels and nurses and two worked not all. The two that didn't work were wives at home and raised children and probably rocked in their chairs as well.
This is not what I had expected.
He looked over at me and hand signaled me to join him. I walked over as the dogs continued to bark at the empty car and kindly let me pass by. I sat next to him in an old iron frame chair with a plywood seat and back screwed in. Not comfortable at all but what the heck. He looked over and said to me under his breath "Do not smile or look like you are having a good time" He did an eye movement in the direction of the window and continued, "She is angry at me for inviting you over when her Stoba Di Cabrito will not be ready" I looked at the window. "Oohh OK, I understand but let me tell her that it is OK". He jerked his head around and said "No don't!" I looked at the window during one of those moments when she had rocked out of sight and caught her coming back across - She looked over at me and then back straight again.
I asked him if he wanted me to come back to morrow and he said no but that I could do something else for him. "What?" I asked.
"Could you please walk over to her and pretend you think everything is OK and then would you mind telling her that you think I love her very much?" I agreed and walked over to the window. She looked up at me and said "I know he does but he needs to suffer once n a while. Want some coffee?" I walked over to the door and made the best decision of my life. I left them in their loving silence. Both aged and so intimate about each other and while seeming miles apart they are intertwined like the million notes in a symphony. they are a unit composed of satellites that are besides all else eternally in love.
Nice thing to see people like that. It really is.