Chapter 9: And Then There Were Two

A fairly young boy lay curled up peacefully in his bed, beneath a mocha-colored blanket. The glaring sunlight was heavily filtered by an ochre-tinted curtain draped over the window embedded in the wall opposite the door.

The combination of the forest green walls and low level of sunlight lent the room an overcast and gloomy feel. No sound – save for the sleeping boy's breathing – was detectable.

All was peaceful in this darkened shell of a room, until the moment when the door received a series of stern blows from a clenched hand. The string of banging noises was accompanied by a mellow yet serious female voice: "Fernando, get up. It's twelve forty-five already! You better hurry if you want to eat lunch!"

Whatever pleasant dreams Fernando was having were brutally cut short due to his mother's voice. He threw the covers off with a frustrated flourish and sat up on the edge of the bed.

Rubbing his eyes, he replied, "I'm up, I'm up! I'll be down in five minutes..."

"Okay, Fernando. I just don't know how you can sleep this late..."

Fernando left the bed in one fluid motion and hobbled across the room to his closet, which was nestled behind a three-panel door that folded like an accordion. He slid the panels out of the way and scoured the rack for a fitting shirt.

Fernando kept his closet fairly organized – not by his own accord, but because his mother forced him to.

Before long, he found his eyes darting over the sleeveless shirt section, drawn to his absolute favorite one of them all.

Yes! I'm going to wear this one. There's no telling how hot it's going to be outside, so I better put on something comfortable...

He plucked the yellow shirt bordered – bordered with dark green material down the sides and around the arm holes – and slipped it over his bare chest. The shirt fit comfortably yet somewhat loosely, the feeling of which caused him to sigh with contentment.

He shut the folding door before strutting to the dresser at the foot of his bed. He slid out the top drawer and deftly plucked out a pair of comfy socks. He sank down onto the bed and stretched his legs out so that he could get the socks on easier.

The cool cotton nuzzled his feet dreamily as he slipped them on and after a moment of reveling in the feel, he left he bed and started for the rich brown door that sealed off his room. The door swung open on its hinges without a sound as Fernando walked out into the hall.

He closed the door with a certain haste before tromping down the solid oak stairs.

The smells of delicious food items rushed up to greet him, and so enticing were the odors that he nearly stumbled down the last few steps. He regained his balance before hitting the wooden floor face-first, but that loss of balance caused him to land heavily and awkwardly.

The deep thud of his feet pulsed across the house, and from the kitchen he heard his mother ask, "Fernando, are you okay? Did you fall down the stairs again?"

He ambled towards the kitchen and replied, "I'm fine. The food just smells so good! What are you making?"

He cut across the corner of the living room before turning left and entering the kitchen. A wall of luscious aromas stopped him dead, stirring his senses with hints of meat, vegetables, and spices.

On the far side of the kitchen, to the right of him, was the rest of his family, clustered around an oval-shaped table. His five year old brother was pounding the table and cooing nonstop, his seven year old sister was trying to console the excited youngster by yelling at him, and his father had his face buried in a newspaper, oblivious to the feisty children before him.

Fernando sidled up beside his mother, peering down at a good-sized pot filled with orange-colored juice, chunks of beef, beans, and slices of carrots. The tantalizing aromas and ingredients instantly registered in his brain, revealing the identity of the soup in the pot.

"This is feijoada, isn't it?"

"Sim, Fernando! It should be ready to eat very soon. Go sit down at the table until it's done cooking." {Yes}

Fernando nodded merrily and crossed the tile floor, his smooth socks sliding about beneath him and making it hard to walk. He managed to pull out a chair and plop down in it before ending up on the floor for the second time in less than five minutes.

I really need to be more careful! I can't play soccer with Anthony and his friends if I break my ankle! I better start putting my shoes on before I walk around the house with slippery socks...

The minutes ticked by slowly, and Fernando was getting quite annoyed with his brother's constant gurgling and his sister's vain attempts at silencing him.

"Mama, Julian won't be quiet. He's making my head hurt!" whined Fernando's sister as she squeezed her hands over her ears and kept on yelling.

Without lifting her gaze from the pot, their mother replied, "Mario, would you please control the children? I don't think there's a miniature Carnaval parade going on in here!"

Her well-toned accent gave her words that much more authority.

Her husband lowered the newspaper and pointed at Julian while saying, "Be quiet, Julian, or Mama won't give any of us lunch!"

He then stabbed a finger at his daughter and added, "And you, Carmen, quit yelling at your brother! You are not helping."

Julian ceased his pounding and babbling as Carmen lowered her hands and slumped back in her chair with utter relief.

Mario lifted the newspaper back up and continued reading, but his wife had heard his comment perfectly.

"You are exactly right, Mario. If you don't keep them quiet, only me and Fernando will be eating lunch!"

"I love you, Denise!" came Mario's endearing reply from behind the newspaper.

"You say that every time you get in trouble! Lucky for you, I am in a good mood today..."

Denise shut off the delicate flame underneath the pot and began scooping the soup into ceramic bowls with a metal ladle. One by one, she served her family a slightly-steaming bowl of feijoada, causing them to lean down and suck in a whiff of the aroma.

Denise sat down last, between Julian and her husband, and handed out a spoon and fork to her family.

"Is everyone ready to eat?"

Fernando, Carmen, and Julian fixed her with expectant gazes, and even Mario stowed his newspaper out of sight and stared at her.

"Vamos comer!" she declared with enthusiasm. {Let's eat!}

With a certain mix of restraint and eagerness, the five members of Fernando's family began consuming the pleasantly warm bowls of soup before them. What they couldn't pick up with their spoons they skewered with their forks, each bite pushing them deeper and deeper into a fantasy land of flavorful, chewy goodness.

Denise had brewed quite a bit of feijoada, since she knew it would not be wasted.

Within ten minutes, everyone had received their second bowl of soup, consuming it just as eagerly as their first.

Fernando, Julian, and Carmen were not able to stomach anymore after that, and so they handed their completely-drained bowls plus their silverware to their mother, who set them gently down in the sink.

Carmen and Julian retired to the living room and clicked on the TV, the sounds of an apparently less-than-mature show filling the lower floor of the house.

While Fernando's parents were busy dining on their third helping of soup, he leaned against the table and asked, "Mama, Papa, can I go play soccer with Anthony today? I don't want to be stuck here and have to listen to that all day."

"Vá em frente, Fernando. É sábado, e isso é uma maneira perfeita para você ficar saudável." {Go ahead, Fernando. It's Saturday, and that's a perfect way for you to stay healthy.}

"I agree. If you want to grow up to be big and strong like me, you have to keep yourself active!" added his father.

Fernando's eyes gleamed with energy, and that same spark was mirrored in his parents' expressions.

"Thank you, Mama! Thank you, Papa!"

"You're welcome, son." they replied in unison.

He jumped from the table and rushed into the living-room, dashing in front of the TV and stopping next to the front door. He plucked up his slightly scuffed tennis shoes and strapped them on to his feet.

"Where are you going, Fernando?" queried Carmen innocently.

"I'm going to play soccer with Anthony."

"Are you sure? It's really hot outside!"

He put on a knowing smile and replied, "Well, we live in Rio de Janeiro. What do you expect?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Ter irmão divertido, e não se machucar!" {Have fun brother, and don't get hurt!}

"Okay Carmen."

He flashed his sister a quick wave, and she waved back with equal fervor. Julian was too engrossed by the TV to notice.

Fernando threw the front door open and was about to march out, but his mother's voice caught him mid-stride: "Be careful, Fernando!Try not to stay gone too long, because the sun is really bright today and you can get overheated faster than you think. Drink plenty of water, okay?"

"No problem, Mama. See you later..."

Fernando resumed his stride and stepped from the porch after sealing the door shut. A blast of dry heat swamped him within seconds, making him feel ever more confident in his choice to put on his favorite shirt. The sky-blue shorts he had on also helped to reduce the effect of the heat.

The abode that Fernando had been born and raised in was by no means a perfect home, but it was many levels above the terrible conditions of the favelas that the city harbored. Located on the western side of the bay, a short distance from the beach, it was surrounded by a large neighborhood of the more-prosperous houses in Rio.

Man, they were right. It is hot out here! I hope Anthony and his buddies show up today...

Before he decided to head out, another party of interest crossed his mind: I better see if I can contact Ricardo. Now that I think of it, I doubt he'll show up, because he's prbably hiding somewhere out of the sun...

Fernando walked steadily along the down-sloping street that ran past his house until he came upon the first passageway to his left. He turned away from the sidewalk and scooted down the narrow pass, stopping once he arrived in a small open space between the rear walls of the houses.

He worked his fingers into his mouth and issued a series of three short whistles, followed by one long whistle. The small space caused his whistles to be amplified as they erupted into the open air above him.

He waited for one whole minute, but Ricardo never appeared.

I'll have to try again this evening, when the sun's gone down and the air has cooled...

Fernando climbed back out the passage the way he had came and resumed his journey down the street. His destination was one of the local soccer fields, just one of dozens that peppered the city for obvious reasons.

The closest field to his house was stationed twenty minutes away, and was favored highly on this side of the city due to its proximity to the beach. The route from his house to that particular field was emblazoned in his brain, never to be forgotten.

His love of soccer began just a few years ago, when he kicked his first soccer-ball at the age of five. He would spend countless hours in his backyard kicking that black-and-white sphere around with his dad, and occasionally, his mom.

He had spent many days doing just that, exhausting himself regularly. He had spent just as many nights recuperating and dreaming of the previous day, always eager for more. The sport was now a vital part of him, and thus he practiced as many times as he could, wherever he could.

One of his future goals was to join Brazil's soccer team and experience his passion firsthand, in the most satisfying way possible. That dream was a long way off, but he knew he could reach it if he stayed focused and positive.

The day's searing heat made the walk seem endless, every street longer and every step shorter. Sweat was dripping down his forehead and staining his shirt by the time he made it to the field.

Before he scanned around for Anthony and his posse, he gulped water from a water fountain and sheltered beneath a row of palm trees on the left side of the field, just a few feet away from a major street. Once he had cooled off somewhat, he raked the field in the hopes of finding Anthony and the others.

He caught not a glimpse.

Did I make this journey for nothing? Oh, why does it have to be so hot today? If I could call the clouds in to block the sun, I would. I'll wait just a little longer...

Fernando had drifted into a light sleep just fifteen minutes later, but once again, his nap was cut short.

He awoke to see six figures clustered before him, and none other than Anthony was shaking him vigorously.

"You okay, Fernando?"

"Yeah. It's too hot to play soccer, huh?"

Anthony drew back and smiled widely before replying, "It sure is! I was wondering if you wanted to go to the beach with us and swim in the bay?"

Fernando perked up and jumped to his feet at the wonderful idea.

"Sure! I didn't even know you guys were going to show up, so that idea never came to me. Anyways, let's go! I hope the water is nice and cold."

"Great! Better than sitting at home and doing nothing, right?"

Fernando nodded and fell in beside the others as they headed across the lush green field, beige patches of sand visible just past the border of palm trees in front of them.

A quick jog brought them to the beach in under five minutes, and as soon as they hit the scorching sand, they all broke into a run and careened into the water.

They had all worn their clothes into the water, but their attire had varied little from Fernando's own.

A refreshing rush cooled Fernando's body instantly, but the shock of the water was balanced out due to the sun's heat. It was neither too chilling or too scalding, a personal Goldilocks zone that pleased him very much.

"Man, this feels great! How long do you want to stay out here?"

"All day!" shouted Marcos, Anthony's slightly older brother.

"I think we should play a game. Does anybody have an idea for one?" asked Nestor loudly.

"How about... freeze tag?" replied Fernando confidently.

"I think we've got a winner!" shouted Anthony. "And guess what... you're it Fernando!"

"Hey, no fair! I'm coming after you, Anthony!"

The Brazilian boy sloshed through the water towards his target as the others scattered in all directions...

They played various types of games as the day dragged on, but as the sun fell to within a few hours of setting, they dragged their exhausted bodies from the bay and relaxed on the warm beach.

They held friendly conversations and dug deep into each others recent lives, discussing things such as family happenings, school stories, and other youthful topics.

The limb of the sun eventually contacted the western horizon, staining the water the color of blood and orange juice.

Fernando said goodbye to his seven friends and sluggishly began the return journey home. His body was weary from his previous cavorting, but his mind was brimming with the afterglow of the excitement and time well spent.

He carefully navigated the streets of Rio, which were still swollen with vehicles as the grand city switched over into night mode.

He made good time back to his residence, and he was ever thankful that he had a warm house to return to.

Just before he pulled open the front door, his thoughts turned again to Ricardo: I'm going to try one last time to get his attention. But first, I have to tell Mama and Papa how awesome today was! I hope they're not mad at me for coming in so late...

He stepped into the soft yellow glow of the well-lit living-room and closed the door resolutely behind him. To his left, he spied his dad seated on the couch, staring intently at the TV. It was almost miraculous that he detected Fernando's entrance.

"You're late, Fernando. You are in so much trouble!"

Fernando instantly grew shameful and lowered his head.

"I'm sorry, Dad. It's just that I-"

"I'm only joking, son. It's okay! You came in before the sun set all the way, and that's all that matters. Did you get to play soccer?"

"No. It was way too hot. I met my friends at the soccer field, and we decided to spend the day at the beach. I had so much fun, but I am so tired!"

"That's good. Your Mom made supper a half hour ago. She and I have already eaten, but we saved some for you and your brother and sister. They're in the kitchen eating. Are you hungry?"

"My stomach feels like a cave!"

"You better hurry up and fill it then. There's some leftover feijoada in the pot. It should still be warm. Go get some."

"Okay."

Fernando trotted past the couch and turned to the right, the pot of soup sitting innocently on the stove directly in front of him. He grabbed a bowl from the stack next to the sink and went over to the pot to fill it. He poured two ladle-fulls into his bowl and sat down at the table.

Carmen was on his right, casually eating her soup, while Julian was on his right, ignoring his soup completely. Carmen swallowed a mouthful and looked cheerfully at her brother.

"I heard you went to the beach instead of playing soccer. You look just as tired as you said you were."

"Really? Well, if I fall asleep on the kitchen floor, could you carry me to my room?"

Carmen raised her head and replied, "I could try. You don't weigh that much more than I do!"

"Are you calling me skinny?"

"Maybe..."

She smirked, and Fernando returned a joyful smile.

Fernando and Carmen waited for their brother to eat his soup, being as they had finished theirs well before he did. As soon as Julian had finished, Fernando took his bowl and silverware to the sink.

Now that his stomach was full, he needed to make sure that Ricardo was taken care of. As Julian and Carmen jumped down from the table and proceeded to engage in a game of hide and seek, Fernando dipped the ladle into the pot and pulled up a large chunk of meat, which he plucked out with his fingers.

He hid the piece of meat in a paper towel and crept towards the front door as naturally as possible. For the second time, he did not escape the watchful eyes of his father.

"Where are you going, son? It's getting really dark out."

"I'm just going outside for a few minutes. I'll be right back."

"Okay, but be careful. You never know who you'll run into out there..."

"Don't worry, Dad. I won't be going far."

Unbeknownst to Mario and Fernando, Julian had given up the search for his sister and started snooping around the kitchen. The gleaming knobs on the white stove caught his eye, and he jogged up to them curiously. He turned two of them to the three-quarter point and continued bouncing about the kitchen...

Fernando left the house rather quickly and jogged down the gloomy street, back towards the narrow alleyway.

Once he had positioned himself in his secret resonance chamber, he placed the paper towel on the ground and whistled his signature tune once more.

After a thirty second wait, the sound of eager wing flaps funneled into his ears. The source of the wing flaps turned out to be a falcon, who plunged gracefully into the gap between the buildings and alighted gently on Fernando's left arm.

The falcon was decorated with cinnamon streaks on his ivory underside, while his back, wings, and tail were a rich black hue. The falcon's sharp talons pricked his skin, but he fought back the pain and managed a wide smile.

"Hey, Ricardo! How are you doing tonight?"

He stroked the falcon from his head to his tail, causing him to shudder with delight and give a muted screech.

"Really? Well, I had an awesome day too, despite it being so hot! Are you hungry?"

Ricardo's yellow-rimmed eyes peered into Fernando's with child-like inquisitiveness.

"I take that as a yes..."

Fernando leaned down and snatched up the paper towel with his right hand. He lifted his left arm towards the lavender sky, causing the falcon to retreat onto his shoulder while flapping his wings for balance.

Now that both of his hands were free, he undid the paper towel and removed the still-moist chunk of pork.

"here you go, buddy! This was the biggest piece I could find..."

He brought it close to the falcon's beak, holding it carefully so that his fingers weren't stabbed by Ricardo's hooked eating utensil. He tore off a small sliver and downed it quickly before ripping off another.

"I guess you were hungry! Either that, or pork is your new favorite food..."

Once Ricardo had consumed the wad of meat, Fernando sat down in a small recess between two houses. Although he knew quite well the falcon couldn't understand him, he still maintained a dialogue with the bird.

They had grown very close to each other ever since their meeting just one year prior. He knew not how or why the bird came to Rio, but he had found the falcon sleeping peacefully on the back porch one morning. The bird was just so innocent, lively, and charming that he couldn't get rid of him.

He essentially gave the bird rudimentary training sessions and routinely offered him food. The bird would usually fly away for the entire day, but he would always return around sunset to receive food from his human friend.

Fernando eventually designed a whistle that the bird would recognize and immediately answer to if he was within earshot.

Their bond was nurtured from sketchy to unbreakable during their first year together, but it Fernando took utmost care in hiding Ricardo away from his parents. They were not very fond of pets, and being as Carmen, Julian, and Fernando were still relatively young, they needed to save as much money as possible.

Mario and Denise were by no means rich, and when money grew tight, life was tough. They had their good months and their bad months, but they would never allow their children to end up on the street or go without food. Thus, Ricardo was Fernando's dirty little secret from the start, and that would probably never change.

It wasn't something he was very proud of, but everytime he peered into the falcon's glossy black eyes, his guilt always became bearable.

Once Fernando concluded his chat with his avian friend, he left the recess and strode out of the passageway. He stopped just as he came to the sidewalk of his street and motioned for the falcon to climb back down onto his arm.

Once he did so, Fernando stroked his fuzzy head and said, "I'll see you tomorrow, buddy. Be careful out there, wherever you go..."

Right before he raised his arm, a deafening blast pounded his ears and threw him to the ground. Ricardo leaped from Fernando's arm as he fell, landing beside the human in a storm of frightened screeches and wing flaps.

A serpentine column of smoke rose rapidly into the sky, capped with a mushroom-shaped cloud. Moments later, shards of scorched wood, broken glass, and bits of brick rained down from the sky all around them. The falcon was still panicked, and Fernando feared for his safety amongst the falling debris.

"Ricardo, calm down! I need to see what happened, and I can't focus with you making all that noise!"

He grabbed the falcon and held him against his body, securing his wings with a firm hold. As Fernando scanned the row of houses up ahead, on the left side of the street, he noticed a glaring break in the once-perfect line. One house was nothing but a pile of burning debris, and the smoke seemed to be rising from that very house.

"Oh no! Someone's house exploded! I need to go make sure my family is-"

Fernando's sentence lodged in his throat as he realized it was more than someone's house. It was his house.

Fernando stood up – with Ricardo back on his arm – and walked straight for the mound of wreckage, his heart sinking lower and lower with each step he took.

"No. No. No! NO!"

The once-modest two-story house was no more, along with the rest of Fernando's family. Fernando collapsed to his knees just one foot away from the mound, choking and spluttering from the realization that crushed him.

"They're all... dead! My whole family... is gone..."

The tears flowed freely from his eyes, steaming as they came in contact with a twisted piece of metal. The falcon slowly lowered his head, as if he was somehow able to sense Fernando's infinite anguish due to his proximity.

People had begun to filter from the neighboring houses, but none were brave enough to come as close to the disaster site as Fernando. He knelt there like a statue, unmoving, and yet still pouring out tears.

The distant wail of fire trucks grew louder and louder, and not ten minutes after the explosion, a massive fire truck had parked itself on the street a few feet to the right of Fernando.

A fireman came up to him and lifted him to his feet, sending Ricardo dashing off in the process.

"Você sabe o que aconteceu? Esta é a sua casa?" {Do you know what happened? Is this your house?}

"Que costumava ser. Minha família inteira foi morta na explosão!" {It used to be. My whole family was killed in the explosion!}

Fernando watched as a thick stream of water doused the wreckage, extinguishing the flames and unleashing a rancid smell.

A trio of firefighters began to scour the remains of the house, and Fernando turned away in fear.

"Sinto muito. Existe alguma maneira podemos ajudá-lo? Você quer dormir na estação de fogo hoje à noite?" {I am sorry. Is there anything way we can help you? Do you want to sleep at the fire station tonight?}

Fernando stared up at the firefighter before him and choked out, "Não! Me deixe em paz! Ninguém pode me ajudar agora..." {No! Just leave me alone! No one can help me now...}

Fernando broke away from the firefighter's grip and charged through the crowd that had gathered, oblivious to their shouts of surprise and sorrowful gazes.

Fernando charged down his private passageway and ran for one solid minute. Once he was out of breath, he curled up against somebody's back porch and huddled up like an abandoned child.

He was unable to cry any more tears, and so he shivered with internal agony and infinite loss.

They're all gone! I have no one except my falcon left! How is he going to replace them? He can't. He just can't. Still, he's the only friend I have. I don't know what to do. How do I move on? Is life even worth living anymore? All I am now is a homeless boy... just like so many others...

He worked his trembling fingers into his mouth and called out a ragged version of his normally clear whistle. He dropped his arms to the dusty ground and waited for Ricardo to show up.

Less than a minute later, the sound of wing-flaps and talons scrabbling on the ground alerted him to Ricardo's presence. The falcon rubbed himself against Fernando's left side, mournful chirps issuing from his beak.

"It's just me and you now, buddy. If it wasn't for you, I would've given up. We'll face the big and scary world together, and we'll make it through..."

Fernando wrapped his left arm meekly around the falcon's sensuous feathers and slumped against the side of the porch.

Fernando was on his own now, and Ricardo's friendship was the only thing thing keeping him from going under.

Life was going to be more difficult than he had ever imagined, but he would not give up. He would always remember his family, but he was still required to move on as best he could.

He knew the past could never be changed, but he still clung to a shred of hope that he could still change his future.

True, there was bound to be many trials and tribulations on the long and lonely road ahead, but somehow, someway, he would pull through. With Ricardo by his side to comfort him and empower him, he realized that there wasn't a single thing he couldn't overcome...

A/N: Finally! *Wipes sweat from forehead and lets out a massive sigh.* This prelude to Rio is finally finished!

I sincerey thank all of those who lent me their OC's for this story. The chapters would've been less complete without them.

Well, now I can devote the rest of my energy to BNW and my crossover (which hasn't been updated for over a month.) I'm still planning on writing a sequel for my crossover, but that will take some time. Expect it to be up sometime in October.

Now that my AN is out of the way, all I have to say is... see you guys later!