Fallen From the Same Tree


    Fallen From The Same Tree is a novel that revolves around an inconvenient meeting between a group of seven friends and a gang that escaped from prison. Everything takes place on a farm somewhere in the Alentejo, where Francesco Monica decides to celebrate his birthday. The same farm that was elected as a place of refuge for a group of prisoners sought by police.

    The house is only a scenario where we witness the events waltz and a whirl of emotions involving two groups of people stuck in a space that is becoming too small as time goes by. The differences between each other tend to worsen in times of danger, and fear will highlight the features by which each one follows its moral conduct. More than a compelling story, Fallen From The Same Tree is a reflection on behaviors, on the meager knowledge that humans have about themselves , about the social fabric, about good and evil.

    Excerpt from the 24th chapter Excerpt from the 2nd chapter Excerpt from the 3rd chapter Excerpt from the 4th chapter Excerpt from the 7th chapter
    Excerpt from the 24th chapter

    He dealt well with death, either he talked about it flatteringly or he mocked it slightly. But one thing was an attitude to accept it without drama, another was the reality of accompanying it by seeing it, personified in Ricardo Pombo, messing him up, obliging him to make the body disappear. «It was written your day had come», said Honório Farinha opening his heart. «It’s the law of life, my friend, there was someone who said dying is terminating being born.... Life is reined by death, did you ever think about that? Did you ever think what hell this life would be without death? Did you ever think that even stars are born, grow and die? Or did you think you were an exception? Death regulates everything, Ricardo Pombo! What neither of us imagined was I’d have to bury you, or rather, hide you! »

    Honório was driving slowly, although he was feeling extremely anxious about getting rid of the body. For a second, he even had the notion he was the chauffeur of a hearse. «Contrary to what you might think, I had always specially liked you. It is strange for you to hear this, is it not? The big question, Ricardo Pombo, is that life isn’t what it seems! The only thing I can do for you is bury you, even without a coffin! Without the right to a wake, ceremonies, funeral music or even a simple wreath. If I believed in the Almighty I’d even say a prayer for you but I cannot even do that, my friend. »

    About ten minutes later, Honório Farinha arrived at what had some time before been a quarry. He was sure he could find a corner to place the body. He’d carefully cover it with stones, so as not to leave any trace. He got out of the car and went to the place but first made sure he was alone. There wasn’t the slightest sign of life to be heard. Strangely, however, the place seemed to be hiding some sinister phenomenon. He went back to the car. He opened the boot but at the precise moment that he was going to grab Ricardo Pombo, he heard a kind of moan, a noise that seemed to him to be coming from the dead body!

    He closed the door again and took one step backwards. A strange anxiety overcame him. The first thought that came to him was that the deceased had come back to take revenge on him. The situation was ludicrous, he wasn’t afraid of the living but he felt his body freeze with the body in the boot. I must be tired, he mused, it is not possible, there’s no credible record of a dead body moaning. «The shitty wind, it can only have been the wind, the bastard wind» said Honório aloud. The strangest thing, ‘though, was that he felt an undefined fear invading him. He took out a cigarette, lit it and kept smoking in the dark at that deserted place, which seemed increasingly macabre to him. Then suddenly, he thought of the chance of it having been a bat fluttering.