Our Man (O Nosso Homem)

Mama, when you go back, where will you live?

When you go back to Cape Verde, where will you live?

I'll build myself a home.

- Close to Grandma's? - Right on top of hers.

Her house is just one store?

You would add a store?

- Will you? - I guess...

- ls there room for a garden? - A garden?

Not even for a decent house, let alone a garden.

- Isn't there a yard? - The house was built on the yard.

What about Papa's old house?

Papa's house is no good.

It's up on the hill in Mourão. It's a wreck.

- Is it abandoned? - A hangout for rats and lizards.

- Then I could have it? - What for?

- To live there on your own? - Yeah.

- I'd fix it up. - You would?

Where are Papa's folks?

Uncle Santa's the only one left. He's in Milho Branco.

- In Grandma's house? - You should see the garden he has.

- Cassava, potatoes all that - What about our house?

- I told you, it's abandoned. - ls it really yours?

- No one else has lived there. - How come?

Everyone's gone.

- Then let's go there. - Who, me?

Out in the sticks with no water, no light, no nothing?

Here I have water, light, everything I need.

- Maybe I could live there. - No way.

All alone with an oil lamp?

No oil lamp could light that darkness.

That's why everyone left.

It's no life.

- But our house is still there? - Yeah, and it's big.

Three bedrooms, a large living room and a yard.

On a big paved street. All fixed up.

There it sits, my home! I spent loads on it.

- Can't we sell it? - Who would buy it?

Everyone left. Why would they go back?

Maybe some poor bastard who's sent back there.

Whoever's sent back will only find misery.

- What's it called again? - Mourão. In Montinho.

Montinho or Montijo?

Montinho, Achada Ungueira, Raçatchó,

Montinho de Cima, Montinho de Baixo,

Milho Branco.

Papa's house was here,

Grandma's was here, right?

I want to go back to Cape Verde...

rest these bones.

Mama, is Santana far from our home?

A friend of mine's in Santana.

Santana's over by Assomada. He's in Cape Verde?

He was sent back.

He was in jail and they sent him back.

Must be hard for him.

Listen to her, just like in Cape Verde.

It makes me all warm thinking about it.

What about that man who sends people

to meet their maker?

He only kills grown-ups.

Slips them a letter without them noticing.

- Slips it in their pocket? - No one notices.

On their bike, in their car...

Then he appears and asks for what they were given for him.

Tells them to search their pockets or some other place.

They find the paper, and they have to go with him.

Then he bores a hole in their head,

sucks out their blood and goes on his way.

Fuck.

He doesn't eat them. Just sucks their blood and goes.

- He takes the people to... - Out into the bush, to the wild.

- So, he's like a devil? - He's terror itself.

- And we have to follow him? - Yes.

When he says, "Come with me",

he has already taken hold of their spirit. They're at his mercy.

All they can do is go with him...

To their sad fate. Then he's off again.

They say he goes up to children and says,

"Take this letter to so-and-so."

He doesn't go near children.

But a kid might take the letter to the person who's gonna die.

Like when a person goes shopping...

- And he is in a café? - Or in a grocery store.

The person is in the shop. He weighs the sugar or the rice

and he wraps it up in the paper.

You take your goods and you're snared.

You're walking along and you meet the man:

"Give me what they gave you for me."

- "I don't have anything." - "Yes, you do."

And if you don't give him?

He shows it to you and then kills you.

- I'd pretend. - It's no use.

You're already a goner.

I'd fool him...

You're not in control.

Once, a woman asked a boy

to do some errands for her.

The poor boy went into town...

did the shopping for her, came out of the shop...

and there he was. The man said to him,

"Take out..."

of your bundle...

"what was given to you for me."

The boy took out the paper and gave it to him.

The woman was never seen again.

The boy went after the man.

He was found three days later, down by the ocean,

behind some rocks.

His head was split open. Dead.

He came back to say he was given the thing that kills.

"That night I went up the hill, I fell and died,

that paper killed me."

I was a fine bricklayer. Never built a crooked wall.

My boss never complained.

One day the work stopped, lost my unemployment benefits.

No retirement pension, no family allowances.

I looked everywhere for work.

Couldn't bring money home, Suzete kicked me out.

Suzete is not mourning anymore. She's all dressed in yellow.

I was lost.

I wandered in circles.

I went into town.

I got on the train and stopped by Damaia and Benfica.

And then I came back.