Chapter 2 - The Visit
"Hey kid, you don't live around here, do you?" said one of the lookouts on the hill, his hand inside his waistband, as he walked toward Arthur while another watched from a distance.
Arthur tried to greet him respectfully, aware of how things worked here; the last thing he wanted was to provoke an armed man eager to prove he was the boss.
"Looks like I know you, huh? Don't I know you?" the man said in broken Portuguese.
"I don't think so," Arthur tried to play it cool, but he made a mistake. With a smack on the back of his head, the man knocked Arthur to his knees.
"Don't try to fool me, damn it! I'm on the lookout. I know there are snakes from other neighborhoods trying to invade here. I know everyone around here, and I don't know you." he said, clearly angry, his pupils dilated and the tip of his nose looking even whiter than his brown skin.
"I'm here to see my cousin," Arthur tried to explain. As the man seemed ready to hit him again, the other lookout came running to reach them, panting so hard that it wasn't hard for Arthur to hear him.
"Dude, he's the cousin of the guy. You messed up, apologize and get the hell out of here, now..." Eyes wide, the trembling man helped Arthur up, stuttering his apologies.
"Sor... sorry, man... I didn't mean... dude, don't tell him..." he said, his eyes brimming with tears.
"He never listens to me." Arthur didn't want the man to suffer; he understood that if he wasn't like this, someone else would do worse to him, but he also didn't want to give false hope.
The man handed his weapon to the lookout and ran down the hill without looking back. Arthur knew that life was not meant for anyone.
Later, after crossing the main entrance and following a dirt path through the middle of the slum, he reached the only house that didn't seem to fit the landscape: a baroque, old structure that stood out from the common surrounding ones—poorly plastered, makeshift, or stilt houses over mud, barely clinging to a slope that was about to give way. Some were so precarious they seemed unable to support even the basics for survival. This house had a neglected yard that seemed much larger once, with small stone paths that once led somewhere but now ended at neighbors' walls.
There were poles with illegal electricity, TV, and internet connections, with wires so tangled they looked like balls of string on each pole in sight. Even so, the house, which seemed large, had some of its walls collapsed. Parts of the house had been divided, the land clearly partitioned, serving as a backyard for hanging clothes and a passage to a chicken coop in the back, but the rest just accumulated other shacks around it, with a high wall and an iron gate as the entrance.
Arthur remembered some ancient medieval art from a history book he loved; every time he saw the house's facade, he couldn't remember the art's name or the artist (probably some priest), but the house seemed like it was inspired by the book, or perhaps the opposite.
"I'm here!" Arthur shouted, searching for the lock and noticing a padlock.
"Come in already!" Someone shouted from inside.
"But it's locked! There's a huge padlock here!" Arthur retorted, irritated.
"Hold on, I'm coming, wait!" the same voice shouted back. A boy appeared at the door, the same height and age as Arthur but with darker skin, tired, sunken eyes, looking scared, walking firmly and quickly, glancing everywhere with keys in hand towards the gate, descending a small three-step staircase, and behind him, a dog crossing the door and lying down on the threshold.
"How's your mom, Dante?" Arthur asked, concerned about Dante's trembling hands as he passed through the now-open gate.
"Just come in, and I'll explain," Dante replied immediately, closing the gate and the padlock.
"Is this a new padlock?"
"Good afternoon, Tobias!" Arthur said, petting the head of a black-and-white patched dog, who just grumbled and put his head down to rest again.
"Hurry up, Arthur, damn it," Dante said, pushing Arthur inside the house, which looked like it was stuck in time. The furniture was old and worn, but the 1950s air made it clear this place was ancient and justified everything that the modernity outside had swallowed.
"Calm down, man, what's going on? You're shaking. Where's your mom?" Arthur asked, stumbling over the irregular wooden floorboards, also very worn, with dusty holes where pieces of wood were missing, which once gave a colonial house appearance.
"She's still lying down, she's still sick, but not for long. You abandoned me to move to the East Side now that your parents are well off, but man, you have no idea..."
"Hold on," Arthur interrupted. "I didn't abandon you, damn it. My parents were going to take you with us, bring your mom, if your brother hadn't forced you to stay here to be the face of the hill, so your family will always rule. That's what he said with that gun pointed at my dad's face, and you know it!" Arthur finished with a vein popping from his neck.
The two looked at each other without saying anything more; the silence was interrupted by the dog barking, and someone entering through the gate made them both change their expressions to fear.
"I knew you'd come straight here," a male voice said, opening the door slowly and appearing before them.
"I'm so... sorry, Diomedes, I should have warned you."
"I told you, you could say something stupid... cousin?"
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Diomedes interrupted, showing the pistol in his waistband and stepping forward, revealing at least five men standing at the entrance with rifles and submachine guns next to a black pickup truck parked in front of the house, two of them pushing a girl away from the house.
"You're not banned from coming here; you just can't show up unannounced. My soldiers were on your tail when you passed through the entrance and made one of them... screw up, but don't worry, that guy already paid for it." Diomedes said, clenching his fists.
Arthur immediately looked again at the pickup, wondering if the lookout's body was inside.
"If my lookout hadn't told me that my runaway cousin with a backpack full of crap hanging around was visiting me..."
"He didn't come to visit you; I called him," Dante interrupted, stepping in front of Arthur.
"You have to respect the hustle. People are out to get me, and if I let a punk like you slip about where my mother's house is, I'll have to deal with it. Are we clear?"
"Yes, Diomedes..." Arthur tried not to show the fear that chilled his spine.
"Don't stutter, kid, speak like a man," Diomedes interrupted, getting close to Arthur's face, already holding his gun.
"I won't interfere," Arthur replied, swallowing hard and looking down.
Diomedes lifted Arthur's face with the tip of his pistol and said, "You need to look into the eyes of who you're talking to.
This is the jungle, kid. If you don't fight, it kills you, so stay sharp."
Arthur and Dante stood still at the entrance, waiting for them to leave, but they saw through the window that one of Diomedes' lookouts stayed behind, sitting nearby on a bench at the corner.
"I think he's watching the house," Dante commented quietly, looking through the curtain gap.
"Diomedes is nervous because the guys from Vila Prudente want to take over the hill and kill us," Dante concluded.
"Us?" Arthur asked, shocked, staring at Dante.
"Yeah, they said they would kill Diomedes and anyone related to him," Dante replied, not taking too seriously what he had just said. Arthur backed away from the window, trying to change the subject.
"You said before I had no idea... an idea of exactly what?"
"I need to show you," Dante said, pulling him by the arm, leading them to the cabinet under the stairs.
"So, are we cleaning the house?" Arthur joked, looking at the closed cabinet door.
"Yeah, you'll see," Dante said, opening the door.
"Well, you really want to clean this house, huh?" Arthur mumbled, looking at the open door and an old cabinet full of ancient cleaning supplies, dusty and cobwebbed.
"No, damn it, I did it wrong. Step back," Dante said, closing the door and turning the knob twice, leaving Arthur intrigued.
"What, do you think it will open better now?" Arthur laughed and immediately stopped as he heard creaks underfoot and the door trembling, dust falling from the gap. "What the hell is this?" he continued, stepping back.
"This is the most incredible thing you'll ever see," Dante said, his eyes shining and a smile on his face.
Dante opened the door as soon as he heard the last creak, and Arthur saw a staircase that wasn't there before. He gripped his backpack straps and froze in place while his cousin was already on the first step, calling him.
"Hurry up, Arthur, you have no idea what our grandfather did." Dante said, leading the way.
"Dude, dude... dude." Arthur was at a loss for words.
"Stop being dumb, get the picture; after all our efforts programming that server, I've spent the last year since you guys left here," Dante said, already halfway down the stairs, turning on the lights along the way.
Arthur was getting closer and admiring the whole hidden room beneath the house in disbelief. When he saw Dante reaching the end of the stairs, he noticed it seemed very secure for such an old building. He began descending, noticing every detail; everything seemed as old as the house's furniture but better preserved and less dusty. Dante seemed to have cleaned everything with more care than he had for the house he lived in.
"And how long have you known about all this?" Arthur asked, noticing shelves full of machine parts, batteries, computer components, and maintenance tools. There was a desk to the left of the stairs with some books and a computer. Straight ahead were various old machines, radios, and magnetic wave monitors. The shelves on the right were dusty in the back, but Arthur first noticed new parts of expensive equipment, heart rate monitoring equipment, and what seemed most impressive—a portable EEG headset Arthur had only seen once while watching a girl beat Elden Ring on Twitch.
"I told you, a year ago... actually, since I found this book," Dante said, handing the book to Arthur. "Well, it's not a book; it's a diary, our grandfather's diary," Dante concluded. Arthur looked at that brown, worn diary with tattered edges and yellowed pages as if it were both a treasure and a baseless fear, for he was truly happy to have something about his grandfather.
"Whose?" he asked, already opening the diary as the shock passed and curiosity grew.
"Grandpa's," Dante said in a low tone, seeing Arthur slowly lift his head, staring at Dante with shining eyes, deep in thought, breathing heavily.
"But he never said anything, never showed anything," Arthur said, still staring at Dante.
"It's all there; he stopped trying when he saw he wouldn't lose anyone else," Dante replied.
"What do you mean, lose?" Arthur asked, looking back at the diary, turning the pages.
"I'll explain in a minute; in fact, you can even read it because I've found a way to help my mom."
"Dante, we've tried everything. Your brother became the biggest drug dealer on the hill precisely because he tried to get money for her treatment, and now..."
"No!" Dante exclaimed. "Grandpa knew there was something about us. He discovered a congenital disease... Well, look here on this page."
Dante took the diary from Arthur's hands and showed the page he was referring to. They both began reading aloud.
August 19, 1945 - Another record for the future.
I found out what happened to my mother, and thanks to the doctor, I
know how to prevent it from happening again. I say again because my
family developed a brain dysfunction that induces a coma so severe
there's no treatment. I can't let my family go through this again; I
won't mess up, doctor.
"Doctor? Who's he talking about?" Arthur said, scratching his head.
"It's all there; you can read it later. Now help me with the equipment."
Dante closed the diary and placed it on the desk. They both went upstairs to his mother's room, passing by the secret basement stairs and going up to the second floor. They followed the corridor to the right, reaching the door at the end, and opened it. Arthur was shocked; he couldn't believe how clean and well-maintained everything was, especially the bed. It was a hospital bed, seemingly very expensive, with wires and more power cables, transfer cables to monitors and computers for vital signs monitoring, all coming through a hole in the wall, directly pulled from a pole—the only one on the street with a special transformer and a power stabilizer storing up to 24 hours of energy, passing to a stabilizer inside the house, identical to the one on the pole. But there was Dante's mother, Luciana Ferreira; she was Arthur's father's sister, seemingly frozen on the bed. His parents hadn't been able to visit much for fear of Diomedes, who had become very dangerous, and returning to the slum could be fatal for everyone, as the police were monitoring the family.
Arthur approached her and kissed her forehead, whispering softly.
"I'm sorry it took me so long, aunt."
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