The great fire

Photo by João Azevedo
(www.olhares.com/Jonas)

I stopped the car right in front of the house. Now that I knew what was going on inside of it, I looked at it with new eyes. It was a house like the others all along that gardened street, but with a much more recent look. It had a plaque on top of the main entrance saying “The House of Lumiar”, although the street was in the outskirts of Lumiar, and not really in the city.

I grabbed my purse, a bag that I brought from home, my briefcase and I left the car. The moment I locked the car, I saw an old lady coming out of the house on the other side of the street. She was wearing a shaul and was trying to get warmer in it. It was a quite cool Autumn’s evening that day.

- Good evening. – she greeted, when she got near me.
- Good evening.
- You’re from the agency, aren’t you?
- Yes, I am. – I confirmed, showing her my hand – My name is Emma King.

She shaked hands with me:

- How are you? I’m Martha Olivera, I live right here in front. You’ve been here today, haven’t you?
- Yes, I came here again for…
- I saw an ambulance taking a young woman from here.

I hesitated for a moment, looking at the lady and trying to figure out what was it that she wanted.

- My coleague felt sick and fainted. – I explained – She hit the floor with her head and I had to call an ambulance.
- Oh, my God! – she distressed, holding her hand against the chest – Is she all right?
- I’m sure she is. I haven’t talked with her yet, but I asked her parents to…
- This house was always a place of misfortunes. – she suddenly vented.

That was when I shut myself up. I looked at her more carefully. She should be over sixty years old. Dyed hair, dressed in the finest clothes, very short, tired and heavily wrinkled eyes, well disguised by a good make-up. There was an expression of goodness in her face.

- How come? – I asked.
- There was a fire and the house was nearly destroyed.
The mention of “fire” let me fully aware:
- Really?
- Yes. Since then, there have been a series of freak accidents…
- Freak accidents? – I reapeated, very interested.
- Yes. There was an old man, older than me. He owned the house and lived here since his retirement. Mr. Abel, that was his name. Abel Nolasco.
- Abel Nolasco?
- Yes, and he smoked a lot. He really smoked a lot. He used to say that if he stopped smoking, he’d die. Irony of the ironies, one day he fell asleep with a cigarrette on in his hands and on top of that, you won’t believe it, the gas in the stove was not properly closed. One thing joined the other and there was an explosion that was heard in the whole neighbourhood. It broke the glass of every window of my house. – she added, pointing at her own house behind her – And of the other houses on the sides too, of course.

She took a deep breath:

- Poor little things. They were so young…
- Who?
- The grandchildren! – she exclaimed, shrugging her shoulders, like it was obvious – The two grandchildren, Peter and Richard. They must be grown up by now… I never saw them again, since they left. You cannot imagine what they suffered with the death of their grandfather…
She shaked her head:
- They loved him.
- What do you mean, they left? They lived here?
- Yes, Abel lived here with his daughter Elizabeth and his son-in-law, Charles, and their two children, but they were all out that weekend. They went to lunch at Charles’s parents house, in Setubal. Abel only didn’t go because he felt sick.
- I don’t remember reading anything about a fire in the file…

I searched for a paper and read what was written in it:

- The house is in the name of Elizabeth Nolasco Vieira.
- Well, the house was Abel’s. When he died, it went to his daughter. They got to be very well, you know? Elizabeth inherited a lot of money and several properties from Abel. At the time, Charles was not going well with his finances and it all appeared to be a cruel coincidence. The police was here and everything! Poor Charles almost got arrested because they suspected that he was the one who had set the fire.
- Yeah, I can imagine.
- But it was the police itself that came to the conclusion that the fire was an accident.

I love people like Martha. They tell everything we need to know without us having to ask almost anything.

- The little ones suffered a great deal. – she continued – They took a long time to get over their grandfather’s death. I remember it as clearly as it happened yesterday.
She shaked her head again:
- Poor little ones! On top of that, they had to go to another house that was strange to them, while this one was being rebuilt. The reconstruction took months and when they came back, the house was the same but at the same time… It wasn’t the same anymore, you know?
- How do you mean?
- They recovered the house, you see, and made it exactly like it was before, with the same color and everything. They only took the chance to upgrade the drains and the electricity’s cables, and all that. But when they came back here…

And once more, she shaked her head.

- Strange things started to happen. Pictures that fell on the ground by themselves and broke. Books that disappeared from the shelves, objects that changed places without anyone touching them, especially in Abel’s bedroom. There were screams in the middle of the night… The kids woke up crying. And once in while, there was a smell of tobacco’s smoke in the air, but nobody smoked in the house, except Abel. It was like Abel was still alive, you know? It gives me the shivers!

I could but smile.

- They lived here for a… Four more months, I think. After that, they left and never came back. They put the house to sell about ten years ago but so far, they didn’t manage to sell it. You see, everytime someone gets in the house, something bad happens. When you came here today, this house haven’t had any visitors in a year. And suddenly, I see an ambulance here? My God, I don’t even dare to get inside there!
- Yeah, well… – I said – I’m gonna to have to get inside. I have to sell the house.
- I don’t want to discourage you, but I don’t think you’re going to make it.

I smiled again:

- We’ll see. – I showed her my hand again – Thank you very much for your time, Martha. You gave me some very precious informations.
- Precious? – she found strange, shaking my hand and laughing.
- Yes, precious. Thank you very much. Have a nice evening.
- Likewise.

And I headed towards the house, feeling Martha’s eyes nailed in my back.