The afternoon gave way to night. At a farm located in the inner state, the elderly Oliveira couple was receiving a visit from one of their two sons - who was accompanied by his family.
Beatriz was Mr. Antonio Oliveira's eldest granddaughter. She was only thirteen, but she was that very observant kid. Holding an open book in her hands, the girl alternated her aquiline gaze from the book to the garden and from the garden to the book.
"Grandpa, what different flower is that over there?"
The grandfather directed the worn vision behind the glasses to where the girl was pointing. Then, he smiled.
"Ah, that one deserves to be seen up close. Come with me! Luckily, you came here this week. I've wanted to show you this flower for a while."
The two walked at a slow pace towards the garden.
"I didn't find it here in your book." said the granddaughter.
"And you won't even find it. This flower is too rare."
Beatriz looked at her grandfather with minimal interest.
"As a matter of fact, you won't find another one like this anywhere else. This flower blooms only once a year and always on this day."
"What do you mean this day?" the granddaughter asked immediately.
"That's right!" the grandfather got excited. "It appears right at the turn of the 30th to the 31st. It blossoms in full at dawn, and then it stays that way all day, but when the sun goes out, you will see that it will start to wither, and tomorrow there will be nothing left there."
Noticing the indifference on her face, the grandfather added:
"I'm telling you that this flower only lasts one day!"
"Serious?" Beatriz sketched and was surprised.
"Serious! That's the reason it's so hard to see it. It's rare and beautiful, don't you think?"
"Yes, it is beautiful! I'm going to get my mom's cell phone to take a picture!"
Before the girl returned to the house, the grandfather commented:
"Beatriz, this flower has a fascinating story. Do you want to hear it?"
Turning on her heels and looking at her grandfather over her shoulder, Beatriz was hesitant but agreed. Then, they headed back onto the veranda, and each lazily settled into a plastic strap chair.
"Wow, it's been so many years since I've discussed this. I don't even remember how it started."
Beatriz waited calmly. She was patient and was already used to her grandfather's sluggish pace.
"Oh, yes..." he resumed. "That happened when we weren't the ones living here in this neighborhood. His great-uncle, my brother, lived here, and they hadn't even built this house yet. I think this story must be seventy years old. And it all started on this same day of the year."
"Oh yeah! Today is Halloween day! There were a lot of pranks at my school, and I got dressed up as a mummy!"
"A mummy?"
The granddaughter nodded.
"How weird. Halloween. In the days of my childhood, we called it Witch Day."
"Grandmother!" she exclaimed, finally growing impatiens. "Come on! Start the story of the flower soon!"
"I already started! I said that this flower first appeared here on Halloween."
"It means a witch planted this flower here?" satirized the granddaughter.
"No, it was actually a fairy..."
Beatriz looked at her grandfather with a look like she wasn't taking him seriously, but despite that, the older man continued with his story.