El Grando, now grammatically sustainable


My destiny was revealed to me at the age of eight: not as a particular object to obtain but as a prediction of the underlaying mood and motivation that would fuel each one of my actions from that moment to the ones that would come.
I was born in a quiet town in northern Brazil, my father was an Italian textile entrepreneur and my mother kept herself busy teaching poor children in the open air: a truly christian soul too busy whit her feministic messianic drives to care over all seven of us, three brothers and four sisters.
I was the fifth child, the youngest male and as well as my older brothers I soon learned to mix with the village kids, not to get bored in that big house.
Although relatively well settled we had a low profile to keep and any educational attempt from my parents house was focused on the girls, my mother´s instinct supported by well known statistics tended to set free those blessed masculine souls that somehow she gave birth to.
In the house there was the servitude to feed us and make some adult conversation, whether we stayed in the house or frequented regularly the chatolic school was left to our own will.
I started to attend lessons at the age of eight, the same morning in which my destiny was revealed to me.
It was at sunrise, as a child I had to get the most of the light and life I could or I would have not felt in peace with myself.
After a hot sleepless night haunted by the nightmares of my day, I went outside on the streets where I could for once have my awakened rest, and enjoy between day and night the morning chill that leads the sun to his daily routine.
As I stepped in the slow dream of the morn I bumped in El Grando, a sorcerer, now growing quite old and more terrifying than ever, yet he was to awaken me.
That day crossing that mad bloody gleaming glaze I wondered whether the man has ever sleept, his eyeball driven by an independent will were randomizing toward the church before falling irrevocably onto me. How a man with that look menaged to recognize me and smile is for me till now a mystery.
Which Ghosts were running through his mind? were they the same as mine?
I admired the guy and his legend, still I was scared that my story would end up in that same haunted look.
El Grando´s life was known only by myth already by the adult inhabitants of the village, for the children was a forbidden animal a walking totem, reminder of all the tabus that mankind can break an been punished for in a thousand lifetimes.
Whoever child crossed him avoided being on the same side of the road, and even then his heart beat would go drumming to his meninges, his eyes were driven magnetically to that figure, finding himself unable to look away the child´s fear would than reach a peak.
Each infant that remember meeting El Grando has also frightening blank space to deal with, they would wake from panic only by the time he was nowhere to be seen, some swore he disappeared in front of them.
That was the first time I have ever crossed El Grando, visualizing previously that encounter I imagined myself brave, chatting with the devil as with an old chap. I learned only later to trust my visions and I didn´t gave myself a chance, to escape in tears was the only plausible event.
But there and than, surprisingly coherent to my fantasies and whishes I rose curiously my head from the pebbles to his forehead, and I spoke to El Grando.

The words came up spontaneously easily covering the mad scream of my heart raised up at the first sight of his figure, I was alien to that confidence, was I speaking?


-Hi El Grando how are you?

His smile got larger but his right eye went wondering somewhere else
the left one stared at me for countless moments

-You are brave kid, but not enough for what I have to show you.-

-Or..... are you? Asked El Grando with both his eyeballs now planted into mines.

Chaos started speaking inside me -run you fool! Run, is El grando you are speaking with- My heart was unstoppable -can he hear it?- I felt his gaze through my eyes raveling now in my chest, he was looking at my soul to evaluate it I guess, from a sorcerer point of view.
He was moving my feelings as junk in a old attic, revolving them briefly trough my attention to his and then looking for something else; which one did he wanted?, even if I had a choice I lacked control: emptiness cold and burst of flames were chasing themselves inside of me.

Was at that point, lost in fear and Pride that I noticed my heart slowing down, than stopped and was now compressed, like a ripened avocado in a fist, now he wanted a straight answer, painful.
Trying to avoid the uneasiness of doom I revolved my attention outside, now I could feel back my body, how my facial expression showed no emotion but a dangerous lack of blood. I stared back at El Grando and with my last words and hopes I whispered.

Yes I´m brave, show me.

My heart pumped back.

Always staring at me El Grando took aside a peace of his open sleeve, slowly uncovering his chest, showing a marvelous grotesque scar .
The shape was of a big christian cross, it spanned the whole height of his breast, the main axe was slightly croocked toward left, and the intersection was somehow in the middle of his thorax,Baroque.
It wasn´t a knife wound, in the largest point the scar was almost three centimters wide, looked as it had been ripped off with fingernails, ran trough by a claw or an uneven pointed object, the skin healed up in the most weird twirls, worms, waves, fractals; where some attempts were made to sew up that mess the skin grew as tall as a finger, living tiny long wrinkles at the sides. In other points the wound was so deep that if there was more light I could have probably seen a rib, gruesome I wanted one, no matter how much pain.

El Grando after a contemplative moment spoke:

You see this is the scar that I have since they have ripped out my hart, I´m now a crippled man, but I´ll live longer that you can imagine, saing this he unfolded two slabs of skin at the center of the cross.

-You see......it never heals- murmoured showing his bloody finger.

-When it does I´ll Die, but now drink, because life is long and power lies within-