Free The Head of the Saint by Socorro Acioli Page A

women, the conversation went slightly differently. One girl had such pestilential breath that Samuel needed to ask for some incense from the church before he could breathe comfortably in his house again. Besides the ritual of rubbing the piece of paper on the head, he told this girl to find a chemist’s urgently to buy herself some toothpaste and two brushes: one for her teeth and one to scrub her tongue.
    Another girl, who was hugely fat, had leaned back against the side of the saint’s head and made the poor thing roll over till his nose was almost in the earth. She’d had to lean on the opposite side to right it. Samuel made up an instruction from the saint that she must eat nothing but pineapple for a fortnight in order to purge herself of her sins, and that she must walk daily from Candeia to Canindé to light a candle to the saints, Anthony and Francis, who during their lifetimes had been friends.
    Bit by bit Samuel began to embellish the advice he gave. Francisco looked after the queue and the collection of the money. Aécio Diniz took charge of selling the statues of the saint, the medallions, T-shirts and other bits and pieces, besides devoting practically his whole radio program to the latest events in Candeia. The proceeds were divided between the partners, under the supervision of Chico the Gravedigger, who couldn’t add two and two but was a very honest man.
    Francisco did his best to fill the consultation schedule for the whole day so they could earn as much money as possible. When the forty days were up, the trick would be discovered, the town would unmask the impostor and Samuel would disappear—leaving Francisco to pose as a victim of the deception. Francisco couldn’t think of a new plan for after that; it was best just to make the most of the present. Every night before going to sleep, Francisco thought how much he was going to miss Samuel when he left.
    On the eleventh day after consultations began, the queue of women anxious for a paltry word from St. Anthony’s messenger was surprised by the news that there would be a wedding the following morning. Samuel received an invitation via a messenger: he was to be best man. The bride was sorry not to have invited him personally, but she was busy getting her dress fitted. She insisted that Samuel had to be there at the altar, though he couldn’t remember seeing the bride, Madalena, for a consultation.
    —
    But the truth was, she would have been hard to miss. Madalena was the obese girl—ugly, oily-skinned, slick-haired—who arrived in Candeia a short time later, fifteen kilos thinner, in a wedding dress. She was married in a well-attended ceremony to the love of her life: a former work colleague. Their romance had been interrupted when he’d been transferred back to Caxias do Sul, where he was born. The girl had been sure that she would never find anyone else like him—this man who didn’t even answer her letters—until the day when everything changed.
    Aécio Diniz invited the groom to be interviewed on the radio—which now had a studio in Candeia itself.
    “So one day I was working and I thought about Madalena. There was a voice telling me to leave my life in Caxias do Sul and come here to be with her. I sold everything I had: a green VW Beetle, two loudspeakers and a karaoke machine. All I wanted was to be near her.”
    “So you arrived here in Candeia with lots of money?” asked the presenter.
    “None at all. I spent it all on the tickets.”
    The bride took the microphone.
    “He arrived rich in love and beauty—that’s what matters in life.”
    The two of them wouldn’t stop their passionate kissing.
    Even Aécio Diniz shed tears at the testimony of the southerner who was so mad about Madalena. The girl revealed in this interview that Egídio had experienced that sudden and devastating feeling of passion the same day as her consultation with Samuel, the miracle worker. Father Zacarias, hearing the interview, called on Samuel to