"Bbrrzz..." strange sounds reached Almeida's mind. The boy stood up suddenly catching his mother's attention, the boy began to breathe a bit too fast.
"The sound, the same one. Was it not just my imagination?" the boy thought. His mother stood up, took a few steps forward, and put her hand on his head. "Is something wrong?" she asked. Almeida did not respond.
"Bbrrzz, it is time." This time, the sound came accompanied by a statement. The boy swallowed unconsciously, his body was trembling, his hair stood on end, his breathing fast.
He brought a hand to his chest, his heart hurt. "Boy!" the mother raised her voice. However, Almeida narrowed his eyes tighter.
"Why happy birthday if it is still several months away?" he asked himself, his mind working to catch up to the speed of his heart. "And, that sound, wait, it said something. It is time. Time for what?" The boy clicked his tongue three times repeatedly.
"Almeida!!!" his mother screamed. However, the boy entered a chaotic state, his breathing was heavy, his hair stood on end, his mind would not stop thinking.
"Happy birthday," "Beef stew with vegetables," "Father..."
Several thoughts passed through his fragile head, and yet, his attention stopped on the last one.
"Mom does not usually want to talk about my father often, she mentioned him so casually. Why?" Before Almeida could continue wondering, something cold that wrapped around all the skin on his face brought him back to reality.
When Almeida opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was his mother's face.
"Uh, Mom?" he asked, back in the present. His mother seemed to have aged several years in just a moment. Her face was tired, her eyes slightly dull, her skin, which until just a moment ago was smooth, now looked slightly emaciated.
But Almeida's attention focused more on his mother's face. The woman's once vibrant and lively eyes were half closed, slight dark circles accompanied by goosebumps framed her eyes with marked red veins.
And in the center, two black pupils flashed with a particular and strange brightness. "Boy..." she muttered, her voice deep like that of a man who had spent several years smoking. A moment later the woman grabbed the boy by the shoulders, focused her gaze on him, inspecting him carefully.
A moment later she smiled brightly, her face relaxed and calm returned to her body. She hugged the boy tightly and did not let go until several minutes had passed.
"By the way, are we going to eat dinner?" Almeida tilted his head, a little confused. In fact, he felt a shiver run down his spine the moment he saw his mother in that state, but he let it pass easily.
"Dinner?" Alejandra repeated. She cleared her throat before smiling, walking back to her chair and drinking some water. "Happy birthday, son," she blurted out again in her usual voice, smiling warmly and looking at the boy with those bright and beautiful eyes.
Almeida tilted his head, settled into his seat, raised a spoon about to put it in the stew before looking back at his mother. "Where is your food?" he asked.
"Hmph..." the mother made a noise that sounded like a suppressed laugh while showing her white teeth. "Actually, I ate at work. Mrs. Bett invited us to an early dinner and I am full," she nodded.
"Mrs. Bett?" Almeida repeated. He had seen Mrs. Bett once. She was a woman of middle age, wrinkled face and warm smile. Her overweight body was the classic prototype of a lady in charge of a restaurant in the city.
She once came to his 7th birthday a long time ago. Almeida let out a "hmm" as if nodding at the memory of that lady. "I remember, was she not the same lady who told me she would introduce me to her daughter so I could marry her?"
"Hahaha!!!" Alejandra could not help but laugh at her son's comment, taking a sip of water amidst her laughter while shaking her head. "You married to Mrs. Bett's daughter? Come on, son, I would not recommend it," the mother made a mocking comment.
Almeida narrowed his eyes before finally dipping a spoon into the stew and bringing the spoon to his mouth.
As soon as the spoon full of steaming stew touched his lips, his mind was taken to a paradise of undisguised ecstasy. His eyes dilated slightly, his lips pursed, his mind, struck by such sudden stimuli, gave in to the flavor.
Almeida himself did not hold back. He savored the first bite like someone savoring their food after a long day of fasting, and his bowl was emptied as soon as Almeida closed his eyes.
...
When Almeida opened his eyes again, what he saw was the roof of his hut, some of the morning sun coming inside, and he, with his brain still in a trance, blinked repeatedly for a few moments.
"Hmph, what?" Almeida narrowed his eyes, moved his eyes from left to right before quickly getting up to sit on his bed.
His throat felt as dry as a desert, his eyes were somehow too hot while his mind flashed with different memories.
"Shit..." the boy cursed under his breath before getting out of bed, putting on some shoes, and running out to a clay container that stored water. He grabbed a glass nearby and filled it with water before drinking it.
The boy repeated the process a couple of times, drinking more than three glasses of water in just an instant. It was not until he felt his belly swell slightly that he stopped.
"Uh... was it not nighttime?" Almeida, with the glass still brushing his lips, stopped to think. "Mom, she was..." He left the glass on the table before walking out of his hut. The sun was above the mountains, probably one or two hours after dawn.
The apple tree next to his house was still as dry and without any visible fruit, and the yellowish green grass covered all the ground as far as the eye could see.
Almeida took a few steps outside while trying to remember. "That is right, I was eating a beef stew with vegetables..." the boy muttered. "But," he stopped in his tracks, looking straight at the sun with his eyes wide open.
"Bbrrzz..." a strange sound echoed in Almeida's mind. However, this time the boy simply ignored the sound; his focus was on the sun in the sky. "Bbrrzz..."
The boy raised his right hand and lifted it slightly. Soon, his hand cast a shadow that covered part of his stomach, chest, neck, and finally covered his eyes.
"It is different," Almeida noticed how the sunlight did not warm his hand. In fact, it did not warm his body either. Normally, he liked going out at dawn because by exposing himself to the sun he could feel how the cold of the morning was bombarded by the heat of the sun's rays, and his body felt a slight constant pleasure.
"How strange, the sun has changed. I should tell Mom," Almeida did not think much more of it, he simply shook his head before returning to his hut.
"Bbrrzz, can we make it? Bbrrzz, can we make it?" a guttural voice sounded in Almeida's mind, stopping his advance.
The boy stopped dead in his tracks. For a moment, several flashes came to his mind.
"Last night's food, I did not finish it. No, why happy birthday if it is still January?"
The boy brought his hands to his head, pressed his fingers against the ground unconsciously, gritted his teeth, and as he lowered his head, more memories hit his mind like images.
"Dad..." he muttered. "No, Dad left, he abandoned us. But, he said something before leaving, yes, he told me something..." Almeida remembered a scene.
In that scene it was nighttime, his father and Alejandra were arguing. There was a flash and Alejandra was not in the scene, only his father staring at him. The father was holding a shiny golden necklace with an intense red pendant. The father muttered something that Almeida did not manage to hear before placing the necklace on him and...
"Tsk..." Almeida stomped the ground hard. His teeth were chattering, he pressed them together with such force that he might as well have broken them. He brought a hand to inspect his neck and, "It is not here, my father's necklace is not here."
Almeida closed his eyes feeling as if his two eyeballs were two iron balls sinking into the water. "Wait, I did not have a necklace. What am I thinking about?" Almeida stopped, stood up a bit calmer but still breathing heavily.
"It is true, I never had a necklace. Dad left, he abandoned us, there is nothing more to it, the reality," the boy let out a sigh as he threw himself into the dirt to sit and think things through better.
He clicked his tongue before smiling slightly. "A birthday in January? That is fine too, I will be able to celebrate my birthday twice..." Almeida said before his stomach suddenly growled.
The boy quickly stood up, walked to his chair, and saw a bowl with a clay lid. His mother always left breakfast ready for him.
Almeida smiled, licked his lips, sat on his chair, and lifted the lid off the bowl. And today's breakfast is, "Beef stew with vegetables..."