Exhaustion finally overtook Helena. She fell into a deep sleep, and only woke when little Maya called her softly.
— Mom… Mom… Wake up…
The girl gently shook her mother with tenderness.
Helena, though still tired, felt her head clearer. She looked at her daughter, who then leaned close to her ear and said:
— Mom, brother is acting weird. He… he picked me up early from school. Took me to the amusement park… and told me not to tell you.
Helena took a deep breath. She looked at her daughter, seeing the confusion in her little eyes. Her older brother, who had always been studious, had taken her out of school early… for some shady reason.
— And how did he get you out of school? — her mother asked.
— He… he told the principal he was dizzy because of a nightmare he had, and that he needed my help to get home… Crazy, right?
The girl never imagined Paul would use his own joke to get her out early.
— And the worst part, Mom, the principal laughed and then said yes. SHE SAID YES! Crazy, right?
Helena laughed hearing her daughter repeat those words.
It was from their father.
A simple man, but funny, always had some phrase ready.
"Honey, did you see that? Crazy, right?"
He said that about everything… the day Paul climbed the closet, the day he hit an improvised home run in the street… always with that same light tone, as if everything was a big, funny surprise.
The mother hugged her daughter, gently stroking the edge of her ear.
— How was the park?
— Hmm, it was fun. Lots of rides… and brother wanted to go on most of them. Oh, look!
The girl took out a photo. In it, a beautiful carousel filled the center of the picture, with Maya sitting in front of her brother on a pink horse. She was smiling, having fun. He was smiling, looking at her.
Helena looked at the photo and gave it back to the girl, who watched her closely.
— He's weird, isn't he? — Maya said softly, maybe to herself.
Helena didn't answer. She knew it was true, but didn't know what to say.
She touched the girl's head, making her look up.
— Mom, brother wants to make chocolate cake, but he said he needs you. He doesn't want me near the kitchen until it's ready.
Maya pouted, got up, and went to her room.
Helena took a few more deep breaths. Got up, took a quick shower, trying to form all the questions she had for her son.
Dressed, she looked in the mirror. The most visible signs of tiredness were gone, and her gaze showed new determination.
Seeing that Maya would play in her room, she felt optimistic about getting answers from Paul.
In the kitchen, the boy wore a blue apron — a big contrast from the one this morning.
"Looks like he found Carl's apron."
Carl was Helena's late husband, father of Paul and Maya.
In the kitchen, he looked focused on three different cookbooks, showing three cake recipes.
Helena approached, staring at him, thinking about how to start.
Paul noticed her approach and looked at her. He saw that she seemed less tired, with a different determination than earlier. He had only seen her like this once — when his father died. Back then, Helena had found the determination to raise the kids on her own, no matter how hard it was.
He looked at her and, with a smile, said:
— I need your help… Cakes aren't my specialty.
Helena didn't care about the cake. She just wanted the truth. But at the same time, she knew the little girl upstairs was waiting for that cake.
She stepped closer, picked up one of the books with the written recipe.
Chocolate cake with syrup. Simple, easy, quick, but above all, tasty.
— I'll get the ingredients, and you beat the eggs.
As Helena gathered the ingredients, Paul got the eggs from the fridge. In quick, fluid movements, he cracked the eggs without dropping any shell. Helena saw that.
— You know, when you don't have much to eat, finding an egg in the forest saves lives…
She heard him but didn't understand. "Looks like he's been watching a lot of survival shows," she thought.
Even though it was their first time cooking together, there was harmony in their movements. Like a choreographed dance, performed by mother and son. And every now and then, he said things with no apparent connection.
— I once saw a couple fight as one. They seemed to know each other's steps by heart, like they'd always been together.
He spoke while remembering the battles alongside his sister. She complemented him, and he her. They soon became known as the Hurricane Siblings.
As Paul mixed everything and Helena washed the pan — wondering if she should get the belt to be more convincing — he said:
— There's a game everyone's going to play. They say it's fun… But I saw the programming behind it. It's not… it's crap, actually.
— Watch your mouth, Paul.
— Sorry, Mom. Slipped out.
"What's going on with this kid today?" — Helena thought, her face visibly unsettled.
Spreading the cake batter in the pan seemed like an art. Paul watched as his mother spread it as evenly as possible, leaving no gaps.
Paul opened the oven, already preheated. Feeling the heat on his face, he said:
— Fighting in the desert is awful… Feels like being roasted nonstop.
Again, she didn't understand. He seemed to be philosophizing too much today. But that was good. Those random words had improved her mood. "He's still my baby, talking nonsense."
The syrup was much faster. Soon everything would be ready.
Helena looked at everything done, with nothing left to do. At some point, she thought it would be nice if the cake took longer. Not that she didn't want to know everything, but the unknown scared her.
Paul looked at her seriously, gently took her hand, and led her to a chair that had been prepared earlier. He sat down in front of her.
He didn't speak. Just looked at his mother, a smile shining on his face.
— You need to take care of yourself… Last time I saw you, you had some pretty deep wrinkles.
She didn't know if he was rambling or calling her old.
Helena didn't want him to keep stalling. And against her racing heart, she asked:
— The plane… how did you know?
Remembering that morning, the plane, the news, and the fear, she couldn't help but tremble again.
Paul noticed, stood up, walked behind her, and hugged her.
— Breathe deep, Mom. That's it… let it out.
With a delicate movement, he lowered her neck while gently stroking her back. It seemed to calm her a little.
Soon he was in front of her. He took her hands and said:
— Being afraid is natural… but you can't let fear take over. Never.
He spoke with a serious face.
Helena realized she was being taught by him. And that made her angry. "How can a kid who doesn't even have a girlfriend tell me that?"
Seeing his mother's eyes change, Paul knew he had succeeded. That trick always worked.
With her calmer and more composed, Helena spoke again:
— The plane… how did you know?
— Would you believe me if I told you? I don't think so.
— But you didn't tell me anything — she shot back, indignant.
He looked at her deeply.
— I told you a lot. But you didn't notice.
She didn't understand what he meant. Helena, getting more and more stressed, thought of her late husband's old belt, still kept on top of the closet for situations like this.
— But don't worry. You'll find out soon. And when the time comes, I need you to be strong.
— Paul, I need more… you haven't said anything! — she retorted, angry but with fear creeping back.
— Mom, I told you… it's hard to explain. But don't worry… soon you'll understand.
After a moment, he said, with a face as serious as the night before:
— But Mom, what I'm going to do is necessary. Actually, it's essential. It can't be denied, paused, or avoided. Like the Europeans say: all roads lead to Rome.
Helena felt helpless. Her baby wasn't talking to her the way she wanted. She wanted answers to her questions, but got more doubts and questions. Looking at her son's serious face, she wanted to say more, deny it, stop him from doing anything crazy… but she couldn't. That was a face she knew: the face of someone who would do anything to get what he wanted.
So she could only ask:
— Is it dangerous?
For a moment, everything he had heard from the players came to his mind. With a cheerful smile, he said:
— It'll be a piece of cake.
For some reason, hearing him and seeing his genuinely happy face, she felt a dark premonition — something that made her already turbulent heart race even faster. She wanted to scream… "Son, don't go… Stay with Mommy." But she couldn't.
Paul felt she was losing control again. He acted fast. Took her hands, stroked them, and said:
— Don't worry, Mom… Everything will be fine.
He glanced quickly at the oven. The cake was almost ready. Then he looked at the wall clock, still holding his mother's hand.
— Mom, I need you to promise me… promise you won't stop me. That you'll eat well. That you'll go to the gym.
A sly smile appeared on his lips.
— And that you'll buy some face creams.
Again, that brat was calling her old. She wanted to say no, to say he was forbidden, that if he left she would only eat junk food and that when he came back, he'd find her fat and even older. But she couldn't. She still had a daughter who depended on her, an important job, and plans. Plans to live healthily, to see and hold her grandchildren, and more importantly — something that came to her now — to at least give a spanking to that child who had called her old repeatedly.
She could say no. Tie him up in his room and stop him from leaving. But at what cost? Her humanity? Her son's love and care for her? The real chance of being arrested and having her two babies taken from her arms?
In the end, there was only one plausible conclusion: to accept.
So, with tears in her eyes, she nodded.
That reaction was necessary for Paul. He couldn't do what he had to do without her approval.
He stood up, wiped his mother's tears, and hugged her tightly.
Between tears, she said:
— Remember to eat well… to brush your teeth… to sleep when you need to… and… and… to use a condom.
Paul smiled at first, but hearing the last part, he let out a laugh.
— Too bad… I was already thinking of bringing home a woman pregnant with triplets.
He laughed unmistakably. Helena, in response, hit him on the back. She was serious.
They stayed like that for a while. For Paul, that hug gave him more strength to leave home. For Helena, it brought fear, grief, and worry — but also served to strengthen the memory of her son's smell, his touch, his height, his voice. "He'll be okay. He promised me."
Maya, who seemed to have just arrived, joined the hug. No one said anything. It was a hug with many meanings.
Soon, the beep from the oven woke them. The cake was ready.
Helena pulled away from the hug, wiping the tears that were already wetting her eyes, and went to get the cake. She placed it on the table and skillfully unmolded it. Right behind her, Paul was already coming with the syrup.
The cake looked beautiful and delicious. But it wasn't time yet.
— Maya, do you want to help your brother?
The girl, who had seemed strange, quickly returned to normal and said energetically:
— Yes. What do you need me for?
He, with a smile, picked up the child and threw her onto his back.
— I need your help to find a nicer sheet to put on the ground. We're going to have a picnic!
Maya, caught by surprise, laughed nervously from the shock, but didn't fight it. She let her brother do what he wanted.
Soon Helena was alone in the kitchen. She looked around, remembering the times she cooked for the three of them, or when Paul came in with his head down, depressed about having a relentlessly annoying little sister.
She walked into the living room. Remembered his first steps, the time her husband dropped Paul on his head — luckily nothing happened.
— Phew…
She let out between the fresh tears filling her eyes.
Every corner of that house, when she looked, brought Paul at different ages. And it made her even sadder. The thought of not having her baby present made her tremble.
She wanted to smoke. Wanted to smoke a whole new pack. But she couldn't. She wouldn't poison her daughter for a momentary pleasure.
So she went to the bathroom. Looked at her red eyes, the tear stains on her face. Took a deep breath. Remembered she had to be strong for Maya and for Paul, like he had said.
The time in the bathroom was long. Wiping away the tears was as hard as calming down. But she managed.
When she came out, Paul was already outside with Maya, sitting on a Frozen bedsheet. The cake seemed to have cooled down quite a bit, as Paul was already serving Maya.
Seeing that scene, she wanted to cry again. "Be strong, Helena!" — she repeated to herself.
Soon she joined them on the sheet, but still showed how sad she was.
In the conversation they had, the answers she got were few. She saw that he truly believed, deep down, that he had to do what needed to be done — even if she didn't know exactly what he was going to do. But she hoped everything would be okay.
Paul, meanwhile, hugged Maya and gave her chocolate cake to eat. Maya was having fun. It was just another normal day for her; maybe she felt her brother was clingier than usual.
He looked at Helena from time to time, which made her anxious, waiting for him to just leave the house. He gave her a reassuring look, while placing his hands on her back.
The night passed quietly, but Helena felt more and more anxious — not as much as before. Now she was accompanied. She had to stay calm, no matter what. And above all, her son's affection and his presence calmed her.
Paul looked at the clock every now and then; other times, he looked at the sky. That made her think he was waiting for a helicopter. Yeah… it was crazy. Why would he be getting a helicopter at home?
Paul noticed her movements but said nothing. He knew nothing could prepare her for what was about to happen.
— Why are you guys so quiet?
Maya, who had been eating quietly, noticed their silence.
— It's nothing, sweetie. Is the cake good?
— Yes, very… This cream? Brother, what is this?
Paul looked at the cake. It was very good.
— I don't know. Maybe you have to give me a taste.
Maya was happy to feed her brother. But at some point, between picking up the cake and bringing it to his mouth, her thoughts blurred, and a fun idea came to mind. Smiling calmly at her brother, she said:
— Open your mouth, big brother.
Paul noticed his sister's change in expression, but still decided to fall into the trap. Meanwhile, Helena calmed down watching her children interact.
— Say "ahhh."
— Ahhh… huc!
Helena was startled by the noise Paul made. Right there, Maya had shoved the spoon with cake deep into her brother's throat. Startled, Helena held him and patted his back, afraid he was choking. But she soon stopped: Paul was fine.
He pretended to have choked and looked at the girl with a fake angry face.
The girl, who didn't realize, laughed so hard she held her stomach.
— Oh, you little…
Noticing her older brother approaching, she tried to run, but he grabbed her by the feet, dragged her closer, and started tickling her. Before, the laughter was for fun, but now, it was no longer a choice… her body simply didn't obey.
The girl's laughter took over the place.
Helena, hearing that laughter and watching the whole play, calmed down a little more. Looking at the two of them, she remembered the past, when Paul first held his sister — she was crying loudly. He looked at Helena with a confused face and said:
— Noisy… can we return her?
She remembered that perfectly. She was tired, it had been a painful and exhausting birth. She just wanted to ask the nurse for a sleeping pill and go to sleep. But that phrase from her son made her laugh.
— Ha ha ha! It was already so painful to give birth to her, ha ha ha… imagine returning her…
The nurse, who had been monitoring her signs, couldn't help herself, and soon everyone was laughing — except Paul, who looked at them, a little scared.
That memory brought a smile to Helena's face. Her son was a reliable young man. She knew that whenever he decided to do something, he did it with a cool head and precision. But maybe today she'd see her son get into a stranger's car and go off into the world, doing who knows what.
— Fuuuu…
She sighed, hoping everything would be okay.
— Apologize, or I won't stop.
— Ha ha ha, brother… ha ha ha, I'm sorry, ha ha ha ha!
— Say I'm the best brother in the world!
— You are, ha ha ha, the best brother in, ha ha ha ha, the world!
Having received his payment, Paul stopped the tickling, with a look of success in his revenge mission.
The girl took a while to recover. Then she looked at him, pouting.
— No fair! You were supposed to let me run away and then chase me… Hmmph!
Paul, euphoric with victory, looked at the girl and said:
— In war, there's no second chance.
That made her even more pouty. Paul looked at her, then at his mother, finally at the clock, and then at the sky.
Then Helena heard something she'd been waiting for since earlier, something she wished she wouldn't hear:
— It's time. Maya, don't be mad. Brother is going to show you magic, remember?
Like any child, Maya couldn't help but like magic. But she doubted. Her brother had never done anything magical. Still, she decided to watch.
— I'm looking.
Paul smiled and hugged his sister affectionately. A strange but subtle emotion passed through her eyes, which she quickly hid by pinching her brother and pulling away.
— If you're doing magic to try to steal my wallet, you're wrong. I left it in my room.
Paul rubbed the pinched spot and smiled, amused. But said nothing.
He approached his mother. Hugged her, stroking her back.
— You know I love you, don't you?
Helena started to get emotional. So she didn't answer, just nodded.
Paul smiled at her and then said:
— Breathe… exhale… breathe… exhale…
That hug could have been longer. That's what Helena wanted. Maya, meanwhile, looked at the cake, but no longer felt like eating.
Paul let go of his mother and walked to the center of the garden. Looking at Maya, he said:
— Maya, let's begin. Remember how we practiced?
Maya closed her eyes and said:
— Uhaaaa, Uhooooo, fire and light!
— Uhaaaa, Uhooooo, fire and light!
Two voices rose in the quiet night.
— Ignite the fire that even the night cannot extinguish (translator's note: Maya's intentional mispronunciation).
— Ignite the fire that even the night cannot extinguish.
Then Paul said:
— Look!
Maya opened her eyes. And there, in the middle of the garden, Paul stood next to a strong, floating light — more beautiful than the stars and brighter than the sun, but with a warm, comfortable, gentle temperature.
Helena, who had watched everything unfold, couldn't believe what she was seeing. She had expected a car, even a helicopter would have been acceptable, but this was far outside her possibilities. A light descended from the sky and stopped a few steps from Paul. There was nothing normal about this.
She wanted to run to him, hold him, stop him. He had said it would be easy, but she felt it wouldn't be. She had a feeling that something bad would happen.
But she couldn't. Reluctantly, she had promised not to stop him.
Looking at him, tears formed in her eyes. She took a step — unconsciously, maybe.
Paul noticed. He gave her the most confident smile possible and signaled "no." She lowered her head and clenched her trembling hand tightly.
— My time has come.
Maya, who had been watching everything, said:
— But I got the magic word wrong… You can't go!
Paul looked at her with a smile.
— But I got it right. I told you I was a powerful wizard.
He said, looking at the girl with an unmistakable fake pride.
Then he looked at his mother, pulled a pair of black sunglasses from his pocket, and put them on. With a fake deep voice, to complete the scene:
— I'll be back.
He looked at the two women in his life. With one last smile, he touched the orb. It pulsed intensely, and then made space curve around itself, pulling Paul far away. Far from home.
Maya kept staring at where Paul had been. Helena cried quietly, but knew she had to be strong — for Maya and for Paul.
She took a deep breath, wiped her tears, and turned to Maya.
— Let's go inside, my love?
Maya didn't answer, worrying Helena. Only after a while did she look up. Her eyes flooded with tears.
— He's coming back, isn't he, Mom?
Tears began to overflow from that little face.
— He'll be okay? Snif… Who's going to wake him up for school? Who's going to, snif, pick on him?
Helena, caught off guard, hugged her daughter.
— Silly, he'll come back. He promised.
Then the girl, in her mother's arms, began to cry.
— Brother, you idiot!
Author's Note:
Hey, everyone. What can I say about this chapter… If the translation came out right, I hope you get emotional — because I got emotional writing it.
If you like it, I hope you keep following this story. Starting next chapter, things get crazier.
A hug and see you soon!