King Momo's dream (chapter 1)
- What's wrong, Nanico, why do you look like that?
- Nothing. I think I'm nervous about the ceremony to hand over the keys of the city tomorrow evening.
- What's that, man? It's Carnival and you're going to be the best King Momo ever! You've even put on a few pounds in the last week! You're going to look great up there on stage, with that sash on your chest and a crown on your head, shoulder to shoulder with the mayor. You'll be a celebrity!
- You're probably right. It's just that I've been having nightmares all week. It must be that drumming that goes on non-stop night and day in the macumba yard at the foot of Morro dos Prazeres. My street has been full of voodoo offerings these days, I think someone put a spell on me. Since yesterday, everything hurts and I feel sick, nauseous. I even went to the doctor yesterday, but he said there was nothing wrong, that it was all psychological. I think it's a spell, man.
The drumming starts up again and Nanico starts walking around the house, like a condemned man. Luisito watches his friend's jowls, shaking like jelly. He gets up from the sofa, opens the fridge and begins to carefully investigate the contents of Nanico's mother's collection of Tupperware boxes. Ever since the two of them were schoolmates, eating has always been a holy remedy to calm Nanico down. He comes back from the kitchen with a triple-decker sandwich, filled with everything he's entitled to, which he hands to his friend, along with a can of beer.
- Take it, Nanico. The beer was a gift from the sponsor of this year's carnival parades. You can drink to your heart's content. Now that you've calmed down, tell me your dream. Pretend I'm Froydi. They say that once you tell people your problems, they shrink.
Nanico sweeps up the breadcrumbs that have fallen into his lap with the back of his hand, lets out a belch and, wiping the sweat from his face with the hem of his T-shirt, settles down in the armchair while he begins to tell Luisito about his ill-fated dream.
- I've been having exactly the same dream for the last three days. But every day I seem to dream a different part of the story in greater detail. It's not set in the present day, it's something from the past. I mean really old.
The dream begins with a group of guards coming to open the door of the cell where I'm being held with other criminals. They take us all together to a wooden platform set up in the center of a huge square. From the top of the platform, a bailiff begins to read aloud to the crowd the orders of King Nabonidus, written on a ceramic plaque. The people will have to choose one of us to be their king for the next five days. During this time, Nabonidus will be deposed from the throne.
We are led one by one to the edge of the platform, while the official says our name, briefly describes the crimes we have committed and the prison time we still have to serve. Meanwhile, the people are restless and shouting accusations at the king. The mood is one of dissatisfaction. When my turn comes, the official tells me that I have been sentenced to five years in prison for adultery. At that moment, one of the women standing near the podium shouts "Beautiful!", another shouts "So hot!", and immediately everyone bursts into laughter. It takes me a while to discover the irony in those shouts. Then I notice my protruding belly and the fact that I look up almost every time I talk to someone. Yes, I'm a dwarf.
- What? asks Luisinho, suddenly not understanding the story.
- I'm short! Almost a dwarf.
- Ah! Dwarf! Now I understand. Go on.
"The king's wives are going to fall on all fours," says another woman, to the laughter of everyone. That seems to have made the majority decide their vote. When the time comes for the vote and my name is mentioned by the official, the people begin to roar in unison. The matter is quickly brought to a close, and the other prisoners are taken back to their cells.
I am then crowned and dressed in fine clothes, and carried through the crowd on a palanquin. We make our way from the square to a nearby pier and we all board ships made of bundles of reeds tied together with palm leaves and wood covered in bitumen. I hear two men commenting next to me on the beauty of the sunset over the Euphrates river. I look in front of me and realize: the sunset really is divine! The whole sky is tinged with golden-orange hues that slowly turn red as they approach the horizon. I admire the scene in amazement, but a feeling of unease comes over me when I notice that the waters of the river evoke carnage.
- Jesus, Nanico, your dream is set in Iraq!
- I don't know, man, I don't know anything about geography. I'm just telling you my dream!
- All right, all right, calm down. Go on with the story, I'm enjoying it.
The ship follows a series of straight canals that cut through the city in all directions. The city is huge! I see several two or three-storey buildings and, in the middle of them, a very tall tower. But everything has the color of dry clay and an appearance of aridity. Although the city is crossed by several canals, there is hardly any vegetation. But when my eyes turn towards the tower, everything changes. Next to it, I see a high hill covered in exotic vegetation. And at the foot of the hill, an immense, placid lake where ornamental birds swim.
As the boat approaches the tower, I notice that what lies in front of it is not a hill, but an immense pyramid-like building. This building is made up of overlapping balconies where a tropical forest grows. In the middle of all this, water cascades down. Irrigation is provided by an aqueduct that brings water from afar to feed the waterfalls and keep the forest green.
On our boat, a band of musicians plays lively songs. All the passengers seem to know the words to these songs and sing along. The people sing and dance and hug and grope each other. It's like a carnival block. No one has an owner. In the midst of all this excitement, I remain inert in my corner, trapped. I seem to predict that everything will end in tragedy. The revellers around me notice my despondency and soon reach for an amphora filled with wine. "Egyptian wine", one of them tells me, "fine stuff for our king". As I sip the wine, I notice that the other revelers, dressed as slaves, are content with a dark, lukewarm beer.
As our boat sails along the canals that cross the city, the people gather on the banks and begin to sing and dance to the sound of our band, indulging in an orgy of the senses. From time to time the boat anchors and we all get off together to extort taxes from some rich merchant. "Keep it, it's your money," one of them tells me, "Enjoy Sacaea, you'll be king for five days."
"Sacaea?" asks Luisito, as he takes out his cell phone and starts Googling. "Hmm, it seems that the Sacaea was a pagan party in Babylon, dedicated to the god Marduk, to celebrate the beginning of spring. This party began with the Babylonian king temporarily abdicating the throne and passing the crown on to an inmate chosen by the people to exercise power and collect taxes during the five days of festivities. Gee, Nanico, did you occupy the throne?"
- It seems so! But what tragedy is going to happen in my dream?
- There shouldn't be anything like that, man. You're looking for hair in an egg.
- Stop being ignorant, Luisito, that's not how the saying goes.
- You're right, brother. But your dream can only be a sign that you have a vocation for royalty.
Nanico, feeling a bit ridiculous for being so concerned about the meaning of a dream, ends up not telling his friend everything. The two then decide to sit in the courtyard of the house to admire the splendid view they have from the top of Morro dos Prazeres. While the empty beer cans pile up on the ground, they follow with their eyes the arc that the waning moon describes in the sky since it rises over Guanabara Bay. Every now and then, a tremor runs through Nanico's body, he then turns his face to the left and admires the spot of light that radiates from the Sambódromo, where a multitude of people work tirelessly to put the finishing touches to the place before the samba school parades begin.
At around three in the morning, Nanico falls unconscious asleep, lying on his lounge chair. A half-warm beer left at the bottom of the can flips over onto his lap, without him realizing it. Luisito observes the scene, and while he weighs up the pros and cons of waking up his friend so that he can go and lie down in his own bed, Nanico sleepily mutters "there are a lot of Exu and Pomba Gira out there feeding on people's madness during carnival, be careful ... your head".
- What are you talking about? I didn't know you were a prude, brother. Go to sleep in your bed.
That night, all the macumba worship places in the vicinity were working at full capacity, enjoying the last few moments before dawn on Friday. From tomorrow, these places will be closed for the entire carnival, as part of a tacit agreement with the Catholic Church that has been respected for decades. Rocked by drumming and beer, Nanico sleeps a heavy sleep, full of dreams.
Voltar