THE SILVER SKIN

The light came before the heat, thin over the roof tiles, and Luzia had already dragged the bench to the back of the yard. The reflective film lay on the ground, spread out between the dead root of the pequi and the mat that still crossed the blue line. There was a new strip in it, too silver for the house, taken from the packaging that had brought refrigeration parts for the datacenter. In recent days these leftovers turned up in the loads as if the metal could grow quickly somewhere far away and fall there without bringing another excavation with it. Luzia split the film into three parts with a short kitchen blade. The tip caught in the fibres and tore off the mark. She went back, pulled the material against her knee, guided the blade more slowly. The second strip came out crooked. The third was too narrow. Ilva, the verifier, watched from the doorway with her bandaged hand held against her chest. The panel kept a band lit on the wall, warning that two windows remained for Antônio to declare the residents. The word residents pulsed above his name, distant and unanswered. What are you going to do with that, she asked. Luzia measured the width of the bench with her arms spread. A skin for the roof. The man appeared behind the partition, leaning his weight on his good leg. He brought the grey box to the threshold, then sat down slowly. His heel had gone darker inside the shoe. He looked at the strips of film and did not ask why she wanted to climb up. The drone goes along the high street, said the girl. If it sees a glint, it turns. And if it turns, asked Ilva. It sees the whole house. Luzia took the window screen left over from the partition and spread it on the ground. She searched the service cupboard for a roll of fine wire, once used to fasten cables to the façade. She also brought a thick needle, bent near the eye, and a smooth stone to pierce the film without tearing it from end to end. The operation began there, on the hot ground. She folded the first strip over the edge of the screen, flattened the crease with the stone and pushed the needle through the material. The wire slipped out twice. On the third try it went through the wrong hole and pulled the film into a shiny wrinkle. Luzia tried to undo it. The knot had closed small, hard, gripping the mesh. Ilva came out of the shade. Hold the end, she said. The girl held it. The woman rested the stone on the knot and worked with the blade, scraping the wire without reaching the film. The bandaged hand did not help. The thumb trapped under the cloth lost strength, and the pain made her arm stop in the middle of the cut. Even so, she loosened the loop. The man was watching the blue band under the mat. The Companhia Arco Norte had left the yard in provisional occupation, like someone lending part of a house for three cycles that they intend to charge for later. If the drone catches you on the roof, he said, they can call it continuous use. They can call it irregular ascent, answered Ilva. Luzia pushed the needle through the second strip. One, two, three passes. The plastic wire tightened against the screen and left small pale creases. Her shoulders were raised with effort. When she finished the first edge, she pressed her face to the film to see whether the light came through the holes. Not much gets through, she said. Not much already shows from above, said the man. The girl looked at him. Then she opened her hand over the part still left to sew. You're going to hold it when I climb up. He took a while before answering. The house had learned to count his body as debt, presence, preparation cost, possible occupation. Luzia was asking for something else. She asked for a steady arm on a tilted bench. I'll hold it. Ilva saw the answer enter him before it reached the panel. His body settled on the box, working out how to stand without putting his full weight down. The house already had many names waiting for Antônio. What remained was to decide whether that man would go on the list or stay at the margin, like the mat. The notice at the top changed colour. The account holder's declaration remained with no query available. Below it, an offer from the Companhia Arco Norte appeared. Substitute confirmation upon water integration. The proposal showed the whole yard drawn in blue. Ilva closed the projection with the side of her hand. She did not touch the confirmation. Luzia finished the sewing when the sun was already striking half the screen. They fastened the silver skin to two loose battens from the porch. The man held the bench steady with both arms. Ilva tied the wire to the beam, slowly, feeling the bandage on her hand tighten under the knot. The film rose a hand's breadth above the roof tiles. Up there, the glint moved in the dry wind and gave back to the sky a light that was not its own.