The Legend of Pita

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"The Legend of Pita

Why is it that all those who engage in dealing with chronicles keep flipping through the pages of the past and, from time to time, are caught in childhood moments recounting events from that time of existence? Is the adult world so tedious and insidious that only from childhood do we still hold moments of pure and real childish beauty?

When I read the masters of this literary art at ground level, there are always reminiscences of a distant past, of childhood always unusual and picturesque for each: I love reading about Drummond's childhood recounted in chronicles; Rubem Braga's Teixeiras, then, a spectacle!... and why not talk about the grandfather's childhood of a man who plays the role of a chronicler?

As a child, around eight or nine years old, I loved to hear the stories told by my grandfather Vicente - now ninety-five years old. They were funny stories in the most authentic style of Viriato Corrêa in the work Cazuza. Even today, I haven't had the disposition to ask if they were just stories retold through an anonymous atavism or works born from the poetic vein of a man doomed to existential anonymity, although worthy of universal notoriety - after all, he is my grandfather!

One of these stories, despite more than twenty years having passed since I heard it for the last time, still persists in my mind's eye. The images created during the last hearing of the work released to the wind by my progenitor's precise words still stir within me, begging to be put in a solid place, immortalizing them or repeating them furtively if they are improper replicas of a once creator. Despite the fear of being considered a plagiarist of words, of the literary world; I will risk it, putting them on paper in my own style.

In a distant kingdom beyond the sea, there was a princess who dreamed of marriage. There were many suitors, but the man worthy of marrying her had to tell her a story whose enigma the beautiful princess could not unravel.

In a little house, situated by a lake, lived a large family, a brood of eleven sons, all boys. A merchant, in one of his wanderings, revealed to all the villagers where this happy family lived, the existence of the distant kingdom, and the princess's intention. The ten older brothers, one by one, went off in pursuit of the dream, but they all met death. The merchant, guided by the royal family, omitted that if the enigma of the story were discovered by the beautiful princess, the storyteller would be guillotined for the princess's delight.

And so, with each new venture, one of the sons of the grieving mother followed the path to the end of existence. After all the older ones had finished, only the youngest remained with the mother who already knew the end of each of the other ten sons.

A new ship arrives. The son decides to leave. The mother, in maternal despair, wants to give him another destination:

– If you have to die, let it be by my hands! I can't bear to lose my sons without the right to bury them!

She prepares him a meal and advises him:

– When you feel hungry, eat this food. Don't do the same as all your other brothers who died from poor nutrition.

And she hands the son a poisonous provision that would kill him after the first meal. She cries. Embraces her last son and lets him go.

The boy decides to journey to the kingdom by land. He loved to walk and decided to create the story that he would tell the princess during his journey... He walks. Walks. Walks. Always followed by his faithful companion, the pet dog named Pita. He feels hungry. Sits down to eat, but when he opens the bag and holds the meal, it is snatched away by the dog who leaps greedily, taking his only available food.

The animal, shortly after devouring the food, falls lifeless. The boy cries and only then realizes the criminal action of the friend who only wanted to save him from certain death. Unable to leave him on the road, he decides to carry him like a hunted prey, strapped to his back. And he begins the story:

'Bread killed Pita...'

After hours of walking, he is accosted by seven hungry hunters who observe the dead animal. They force him to leave them with the prey. He says it's his dog that died, but the hunters ignore the story. They take the little animal. They make a meal and, after eating the food, they fall dead, leaving the boy with the seven rifles they carried. The boy checks each of the weapons and chooses the best one to carry on the rest of the journey. And the story continues:

'Bread killed Pita. Pita killed seven and of the seven, I chose the best one...'

Now, with ammunition and weaponry, he begins a hunt to obtain food. He sees a bird on a branch, then shoots intending to bring it down. He misses the shot but hits another that was on another branch, out of his line of sight.

And he continues:

'Bread killed Pita. Pita killed seven and of the seven, I chose the best one. I shot at what I saw and hit what I didn't see...'

He runs. He reaches the fallen bird and looks for a skewer to cook it. Since he has no knife, he decides to skewer it on a stake obtained by breaking a cross left in the forest, revealing that there was a body that had fainted and had been buried in a ritual common to civilized peoples. He makes a fire.

He eats. And he continues:

'Bread killed Pita. Pita killed seven and of the seven, I chose the best one. I shot at what I saw and hit what I didn't see. I roasted meat with holy wood...'

Now full of the food that luck had placed in his hands, he is thirsty. The dry forest does not allow the clear water sources to emerge in that inhospitable region. Thirst consumes him. There is no source to quench it. When he was about to give up, he sees an animal in the distance. He goes to meet it. The animal, sweaty, emits signs of tiredness and thirst... He approaches the animal and, in an act of subsistence, he sucks its sweat which is removed with his fingers and, in this way, quenches the almost unbearable thirst!

After overcoming the human disgust, he finally concludes the story once the palace described is glimpsed by him, although still distant:

'Bread killed Pita. Pita killed seven and of the seven, I chose the best one. I shot at what I saw and hit what I didn't see. I roasted meat with holy wood. I drank water that was neither from heaven nor from earth...' There you go. This will be the story I will tell the princess as soon as I have the opportunity.

Arrives at the palace and reveals his desire to be one of the suitors for the throne. Days later, he is taken to meet the princess who coldly interrogates him:

– What's your story, commoner?!

– My story, princess, is as follows: 'Bread killed Pita. Pita killed seven and of the seven, I chose the best one. I shot at what I saw and hit what I didn't see. I roasted meat with holy wood. I drank water that was neither from heaven nor from earth. And after that, I am here.' What does this story mean, princess?

The princess, blushing, called her attendants and court mentors. Nothing. They had no explanation for the plot. Finally, she pronounced:

– I request some time to respond!

– Until dawn, princess, intervened the young commoner, decisively.

– Until dawn, agreed the princess. If by dawn I don't have the answer, I will marry you!

Dawn breaks. The young commoner is brought before the princess. She observes him and, without further ado, reveals:

– I was unable to discover the meaning of the story, and as promised by my father, I will marry you. However, I must know the truth, as if it is an inconsistent story, you will die as a lying and vile villain!

– So be it, princess. This is the story of my pilgrimage since I left my home until I arrived here.

And he continues:

– All my other ten brothers fainted in the hope of marrying the most beautiful princess announced by wandering travelers. I, the last of a lineage, also came in search of this and brought with me a dog that died after eating the food prepared by my mother who perhaps did not want me as another victim. With the death of the dog, I started the story: 'Bread killed Pita...' The meat of my animal served as food for seven hungry hunters who died at the end of the meal. From the rifles they carried, I picked the one that seemed best to me. And the story continued: 'Bread killed Pita. Pita killed seven and of the seven, I chose the best one.'

The princess and her entire jury body watched the recount silently. The young commoner, oblivious to everything, continued, now more confident:

– With the rifle, I tried to shoot a bird that I saw in a tree, but I missed the shot, hitting another one that I didn't see. From this came another part of the story: 'Bread killed Pita. Pita killed seven and of the seven, I chose the best one. I shot at what I saw and hit what I didn't see.' Finally, after plucking the bird and not having anything to skewer it with, I made an improvised skewer with the remains of a cross that was in the way. After the meal, I felt thirsty and was satisfied by drinking the sweat of a horse that appeared, I don't know how, in front of me. After that, I glimpsed the palace where I am now recounting the entire story, which is summed up in what I said yesterday: 'Bread killed Pita. Pita killed seven and of the seven, I chose the best one. I shot at what I saw and hit what I didn't see. I roasted meat with holy wood. I drank water that was neither from heaven nor from earth.'

The counselors formed a circle around the princess and pronounced:

– Long live the future king!

Do I need to conclude by saying solemnly that they lived happily ever after? Alright. They got married and lived happily ever after.

End.

Fortaleza-CE, May 3, 2001, at 2:15 am.

From my book 'Chronicles and one more tale'.

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