The Twenty-Fourth Night

 

Because I’d been bedridden the previous week, and there was no way we could set up a game of crapaud on my narrow single bed, I introduced Nick to the wonderful world of backgammon—a swift and elegant game.

He was instantly captivated: the board, the rules, everything about it. And now, although I’ve fully recovered and left my bed behind, we’ve returned to backgammon with renewed enthusiasm.

Nick was rolling his dice for a new move when he said, in his usual laid-back tone,

“My sister replied to my email. Again.”

“That’s great! Will you write her back?”

“I already did. You were sick, and I didn’t wanna bother you.”

“It wouldn’t have been a bother.”

“She seems okay with me, you know?”

“Fantastic.”

“She even asked if I’d thought about going back to America.”

“Did she say ‘America,’ or did she use another word?”

“Yeah, she wrote ‘America.’ I told her no. Either way, she gave me her contact so we could do a video call.”

“Twice as fantastic,” I said, with genuine enthusiasm.

“Does she live in California?”

“Nope. The family’s from Pittsburgh. I moved to California when I left home. I guess by now I’m more Californian than Pittsburghian. Living here on the island makes me feel even closer to Santa Monica.”

“And you don’t think of going back? Maybe for a holiday?”

“Maybe someday. But it’s not something I’m planning.”

“Well, I’m not planning on going back to Brazil either—not even on vacation. Maybe it’s the distance, maybe my being sixty now. I really think it’s too far.”

“Anyone from your family ever come to visit you?”

“Never. I left Brazil in 2007, and no one in my family has ever come.”

“Why not?”

“The Brazilian economy was definitely an obstacle. But also... my relatives aren’t the type to leave the comfort of their homes. They’re very attached—to their houses, their routines. They’re not willing to give that up.”

“But you guys still talk, right?”

“Yes, regularly. We have video calls all the time.”

Nick nodded. “I get that. For the first time in my life, I’m at peace. I’m clean. It’s been many years since I used any drug—but it feels like, if I go back to America, even for just a few days, I’ll come out with mud on my shoes. You feel me?”

“I do. Completely.”

“If I could go back and redo it all, I would. But I can’t. I can’t go back—only start over. I caught a terrible disease that’ll never be cured.”

“But we have the video calls.”

“Yeah, we do!” said Nick, brightening. He paused his move, and his face took on a thoughtful air.

“Isn’t it something? No matter how far we go, how many lives we live, we always end up needing love. Acceptance. In that sense, man, I envy you. You’re happy being alone.”

“I’m human, Nick. Part of me would’ve loved to marry, to have children. Biologically, we’re made for that. But for me, it’s too late to undo that mistake. To use your words, all I can do now is start over. My new beginning, I find in the Catholic Church. Yours, perhaps, lies in rebuilding your relationship with your family—which, today, means just your sister.”

Nick burst out laughing, warm and loud. “I just remembered something you once told me. It was like, ‘Young people, grow old before it’s too late!’ Man, if only the young actually did that... how many problems would that be avoided?”