THE FRUIT ON THE ROOF TILE

The household panel lit up on the whitewashed wall in three short bands. Tariff recalibration. Priority technical consumption. Accept before dark. Luzia read the words under her breath, leaving priority for last, as if she could hold it back. The house smelled of flour heated too long and of the dust that came in through the cracks in the porch. From the yard came the dry noise of a cicada hidden in the murici. The tree's leaves had small yellow edges, scorched by the vapour the datacenter towers pushed out above the village. Ilva put the insulated bag on the table. Nael's sandal and the crushed fruit lay between his empty bowl and Luzia's mug. The occupant came out of the hallway, putting his weight on his good leg. He looked at the panel without coming closer. The utility company raised the stability tariff, Luzia said. It wants two of the house's preparation units to keep the water pulse going. The screen opened the consequence below. Without acceptance, the household line would go on hold until the next cycle. In the upper band, the mineral operation's consumption ran in continuous blue. Ilva touched the edge of the bag. There aren't two units, the man said. There's one, said Luzia. The other's already been eaten. He sat on the bench by the door. The grey box stayed under the hammock in the hallway, forgotten like a weight nobody could sell. Outside, an ant crossed the threshold carrying a translucent wing, too big for its body. It stopped by the wall, changed course and disappeared under the panel of the service cabinet. Ilva saw its path. Behind the panel, the adapted ring held the household line without inspection. The earth around it had hardened since midday. When the pipe heated up, the joint expanded and the makeshift rubber gave a little. The water didn't show on the floor. It went into the dust. She pulled the panel off carefully. The man crouched beside her, without asking if he could. The gap revealed a damp strip, narrow as a finger. It's still leaking, he said. Her suspension kept her intervention access closed. The panel would read any contact as a custody violation. But dry clay didn't need authorisation to crack. Luzia brought a bowl with what was left of the water used to wash the pequi leaves. There was sand at the bottom. This isn't for drinking, she said. It's for the clay, said Ilva. The man looked at the bowl and then at the notification. Thirty-two minutes remained for acceptance. He lifted the whole panel away, leaning it against the wall. Ilva mixed the fine earth from the threshold into the cloudy water. The paste turned dark and grainy. She didn't touch the ring. She covered the exposed pipe, making a low ridge against the sun still striking the front of the house. He brought two old roof tiles from the back of the yard, where they had served as stands for pots that no longer held seedlings. He dragged them to the panel and set up a shade over the joint. The cicada went quiet when the first tile scraped the whitewash. Luzia counted the time until the clay stopped running. One, two, three, four, five. At six, she went back to the panel. The acceptance needs someone from the house, she said. Antônio is away. Ilva can't. The man stood before the projection. His face appeared, reduced, on the surface, crossed by lines of consumption. The utility company offered an alternative. He could take on the two units under his occupant's bond, with the charge tied to his body and to Antônio's return. In exchange, the water would keep arriving at the reduced frequency. Ilva opened the insulated bag and took out Nael's fruit. The skin had given way where the weight of the tray had crushed it. She placed the fruit on the lower tile, near the newly made shade. You don't need to get into this, she said. He looked at the sandal inside the bag. Then at the wall where the clay was starting to set. You can put it. He pressed his palm to the acceptance field. The light read his presence, transferred the charge and switched off the threat of suspension. The house lost its last unit of night preparation. The line gained one cycle of water. Luzia carried the empty bowl inside. Ilva closed the bag, held it close to her body and walked to the porch. The man stayed behind her, holding the panel so the shade would not slip off the ring.