"How do you say Asshole in Portuguese?"
"Babaca," Sophie replies. "Why do you ask?"
She rises from her cafeteria chair.
"Excuse me, Mr Babaca, do you serve anything here besides this jive turkey music?"
"Coming right up, snappy girl! Breakfast is on its way. Would you like a cordial, or a milkshake to sweeten the pot?" the waiter retorts.
"A non-alcoholic cordial, and a coffee as strong as you." She chirps, then returns to her seat.
"We've only been here a minute. Why do you have to be so rude?" Sophie scolds.
"I'm not being rude. I complimented his audacious audacity. He sees us come in and doesn't even bother to say hello." Gaia replies.
The door bursts open and a young man with cauliflower-shaped hair, clad in a purple tracksuit and yellow Nikes, strides in.
Sophie spots him. "Damn it, not him again!" she says, hiding her face. "Who? Who is that?" Gaia perks up.
"He's an annoyance. He lives across from us. I smiled at him once, on the way to high school, and he's been stalking me ever since," she whispers.
"So, another single-celled parasite." Gaia flips her hair back.
"Leave him to me; I enjoy entertaining myself with these creatures."
"Please, no! Just leave him alone; he's just a clueless fool," Sophie pleads.
Gaia stares at her like a dragon and exhales: "Or maybe, you actually like him."
"Don't be ridiculous; I feel sorry for him," Sophie says, scratching her arm.
Gaia glances at the young man, scans him, then greets him with a smile: "See his tail wagging?"
She clenches Sophie hand. "The only fool here is you. That's a rutting pig, desperate to mate."
"What tail?" Sophie asks, bewildered.
Nike Guy interrupts, looming over them: "Sophie! What a coincidence! I didn't know you were an Italian food enthusiast!"
"Irish, not Italian."
Kelly (the waiter) intervenes, carrying a plate of streaky bacon with scones and coffee.
"Can't you really tell the difference?" he says, annoyed.
"I know that; I was just kidding! How's Uncle Bob doing?" he tries to recover.
"Ahem...are you related to Sophie?" Gaia inquires.
He scratches his head and replies: "No, I'm not related. I'm an old friend. We've known each other since middle school."
Sophie tries to brush him off: "Bob's fine, thanks for asking..."
"Pleased to meet you. I'm Gaia, Sophie's half-sister." Gaia's tongue moves faster than sound. "Please, join us."
Sophie glares daggers at her reckless sister.
The young man sits down without hesitation, murmuring: "Gaia! Is that a French name? I'm sure I've heard it before."
"You mean Goya!" Kelly interrupts again, placing a creamy milkshake in front of them.
"Goya is a Spanish artist, not French."
"No, not that singer, but it's a city." The cauliflower-haired guy corrects.
"There's no French city by that name. Vila Nova de Gaia is in northern Portugal." Kelly throws a contemptuous look again and leaves.
"Really? Is that true, Sophie?" Gaia exclaims. "Why didn't you tell me they named a city after me?"
"I didn't know," she replies.
"Whoa!" The young man tastes Gaia's cordial without permission.
"You can take that with you. Now, if you'll excuse us, we were discussing our travel plans," Gaia says pointedly.
"Ah, yes, of course." He rises, then picks up his dignity with a flourish. "Lunch is on me today."
"No need," Sophie says. "I insist!" the young man repeats.
"If you insist, bring us two glasses of peach schnapps," Gaia coaxes, pulling out her phone.
"By the way, if you ever want to hang out sometime, you can call," she shows him a number.
Nike Guy leaves, smitten by the flirtation. Sophie watches him go and turns: "What number did you give him this time?"
"He wasn't that bad; I just redirected him to a rehab clinic."
She tastes the refreshing cocktail and asks: "So, what did you say about my travel plan?"
"What travel? Enough with the nonsense," Sophie replies.
Gaia responds anxiously: "Sophie, I feel sharp suffocation—you know what I mean. How about we visit this Gaia? It will be a chance for you to expand your linguistic dictionary."
"Bob will not agree. I have applied for educational travel programs before, but he fears for me." Sophie said cautiously.
"You spend all the holidays in that miserable nest. Being introverted will not cure your phobia, then you will not be alone this time." Gaia inspires her.
Sophie rests her cheek on her palm: "But you talk to him, I don't like to break his heart."
"Of course, I have handcuffs that gently fetter the heart." Gaia reassured her.
She turns towards Kelly and shakes her head dancingly.
She calls: "Hey, what's this song called?"
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"Vai Caralho!" He replies with a thumbs up.
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"This Leeds is driving me Crazy. You did well not learning to drive." Gaia grumbles, stuck in traffic.
"Good thing that ridiculous conference ended quickly. Cassandra, the viper, deliberately sends me to these ordeals every time."
She turns to Sophie, finding her in airplane mode! "Yes, you fly high, and let Mama Gaia push your swing."
She puts on soft music, then quickly turns it off: "No, I'll fall asleep too if I listen to this noise."
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The car reaches The Smoggie City around five in the afternoon.
Sophie wakes up to the ringing of her phone. It's Bob, checking up on his little girl. She reassures him and hangs up quickly, yawns like a sated cat, then looks at Gaia whose silence is deafening.
"I slept even after I drank half a cup of coffee!" She takes her friend's pulse.
Gaia turns on the fog lights, then says: "I don't think your mouth spins those excuses by accident? I'm starting to believe you're a natural-born liar."
The two arrive at Sophie's house in the quiet suburb of Downhill Hoop.
Bob is watching a documentary after he’s smeared béchamel pasta and thrown it inside a cooking pot.
"Hey, Dad," Sophie greets as she enters.
"You're just in time, check the dinner, it might be done," he calls out, lowering the TV volume.
A light knock on the door. Bob turns. "Someone with you?"
Gaia enters with a ravenous smile on her face.
"Hello!" he exclaims enthusiastically. "It's Lady Gaga in the flesh!"
Gaia hugs him longingly: "Bob Marley, British edition!"
She takes off her brown satin jacket and sits on the couch. "Sophie always stalls, so I took the liberty of inviting myself."
"And is this a place where invitations are needed! Mi casa es su casa," Bob says.
"I felt a tingle in my foot today; I knew a star would shine tonight."
"Thanks, you look your best too," Gaia rejoices.
"Hah. How did the audition go this time? Sophie told me you attended a casting call on Friday." Bob asks.
"Honestly, it wasn’t special. I couldn't embody that minor role," she replies.
Bob sighs: "Standing on stage is an anvil that crushes the soul."
He looks toward Sophie, who is struggling to open a Bolognese sauce lid. "It’s the motivation that makes one fly rebellious above their ceiling."
He catches a flight of fancy in his rod and lets it go. "I’m sure you'll blows their minds when you spread your wings."
"Yes, I'm not frustrated at all. I'm used to encouraging myself whether I succeed or fail," Gaia expresses with determination, and calls to Sophie:
"Hey girl, need some help over there?"
"No, I'm coming," she replies.
Gaia tastes Bob's concoction: "Mmm, not as bad as it looks."
Sophie nudges her with her foot.
"What?" Gaia replies.
"Bob said mi casa es su casa."
"Haha, I envy you Sophie for this special sister, she's the dessert that's missing from your flavorless life," Bob comments, laughing.
He says: "Cooking isn’t one of the skills I boast about, but wait till you try Sophie’s recipe; pfft!" He tries to handcuff his mouth without luck, a loud laughter bursts out: "Ha... haha... HAHAHA!" He sways with it and falls from the chair.
"Hhh—hahaha!" Gaia holds her stomach, writhing.
He tries to get up like a seal climbing a cliff: "Where's Sophie?" he calls. "I hope she didn’t do it and lock herself in the fridge!" He bursts out laughing and falls again.
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"Ahh, aye, help! Call the ambulance, I peed myself!"
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"Hahaha—stop, stop!—haha!" Gaia kicks the ground with her feet. "Stop please, I'm going to die!"
Their neighbor, Mr. Percival, knocks on the door. Sophie gets up and opens it.
"What's the matter, Sophie? I heard screaming!"
"It's just Bob, he overdid the drinking a little."
Gaia helps Bob up. Sophie sits with her arms crossed in dismay.
Bob cheers her up: "I haven't laughed like that in ages, come on, Sophie, don't take it so seriously."
"You won't eat a single bite from my hand after today!" she threatens.
"The proboscis monkey, or Dutch monkey, is one of the most skilled animals in swimming, thanks to its webbed hands and feet that allow it..."
"Look, Sophie, that monkey looks exactly like Chad!" Gaia comments on the documentary.
Sophie struggles to suppress a smile.
Bob says: "Maybe Sophie hasn't told you, but she's a jungle enthusiast. She used to watch Indiana Jones adventures with me when she was little, her dream was to become an explorer and go to the Amazon."
"Yes, she told me," Gaia replies, gracefully resting her legs on the couch.
And she adds: "Speaking of the Amazon, Sophie and I are planning a trip."
"To the Amazon!" Bob reacts alarmed.
"Yes, after that I'll sail to the South Pole," Sophie replies.
"She's just kidding. We're planning to travel to attend the National Day of Castles in Portugal, and maybe take the opportunity to wander around a bit," Gaia says.
"Well, actually I was a bit too overprotective of her. She's all I have in this life, but that's no reason to stand in the way of her ambition," Bob expresses with listless eyes.
He grabs the beer bottle and recovers his weakness with joy: "As long as she's in your care, I won't fear for her. But to be safe, it's best to bring an experienced individual with you."
"In your dreams!" Sophie replies. "You'll stay here enjoying the taste of clay that your fingertips prepare!"
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The day folds away its heavy luggage. A shimmering star in the horizon waves it goodbye from behind black clouds.
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A new day wakes up somewhere else.
Behind the glass of his organized office, Marcel watches the water droplets slide in harmony like a silent symphony.
A blonde lady with a blue coat crosses the road, sheltering her handbag from the rain. He carries the umbrella and rushes forward.
One step away from reaching her, she presses the key and a female lynx with honey eyes winks at her from there.
The blonde passes him in a gray BMW, appearing ten years younger inside. He returns riding the saddle of disappointment.
"Gallant as always, Marcel," Mr. Ablegate greets him at the door.
"Every strait has an ocean beyond it, that's our motto," Marcel replies with a shy smile on his face.
"Did anyone call in my absence?" Ablegate asks.
"Yes, a lady called asking about Off-plan property. I told her that the first tranche equals 44 percent payable before work begins; I'll think about it, she said."
"No, she won't," Ablegate says. "That's probably Mrs. Hillary, looking for a luxury apartment at the price of a rat hole. I spoke to her miserly husband beforehand."
He hangs up his hat. "What about today's newspaper? Any new or old in it?"
"I found this ad." Marcel points with his finger.
— Private bidding for the sale of a beach hut, belonging to the Cavendish estate.
"It says: For those interested, contact lawyer Theodore Evans."
"Cavendish, huh," Ablegate comments.
"Do you know the owner?" Marcel asks. "Doesn't seem..."
"Was the location mentioned?" he interrupts.
"Yes, but the area was not specified."
He checks his coat pockets and picks up the hat. "Let's go, Marcel... and bring the camera with you."
ns216.73.216.13da2
and then Add to home screen.