The Tanner - A Tale to Bono Vox
Autor: Alessandro Mendonça | Publicado: 2017-07-03T18:14:00-07:00

I've heard that Bono's father was a tanner. So, I dedicate this story - a chapter of my newest novel, "The Gadarene," to the U2 lead singer

CHAPTER 9

VIGOROUS FOREARMS EXTENDED the entire piece of newly arrived raw skin while watchful eyes examined it for perforations, lacerations or marks that could compromise its use and, above all, its value.

The tanning process should begin immediately. The animal, whose body that skin had covered, had died the night before, and its skin had been removed somewhat late to be tanned. The process of decomposition used to be fast, and the Tanner had to act quickly, even if he was in doubt between losing his skin or wasting his time trying to save it. Times were difficult and wasteful, whether it was time or resource, it was a luxury he could not afford.

The skin would be fastened to an appropriate beam with the greasy inner part exposed and the Tanner, with rapid and ancestral movements would thoroughly flay it.

But not now.

The persistent and nervous barking of the dogs outside the enclosure made the man stop his work and stretch his neck in search of identifying the source of the animals' uproar. The figures of two men, coming from the beach, had caught the attention of the pack of dogs that surrounded the property of the Tanner.

The dogs were not his, but - as they were permanently attracted by the skin's scent, by occasional chunks of meat or animal carcasses that the man threw at them - they ended up serving him somehow. If it was not good for him to have them so close - not to steal raw skins or to scare customers - it was not good to have them too far.

Thus, being alone, the Tanner took advantage of the company of the animals and benefit of the protection that they offered. They commonly arrived at night, eat and sleep outside the enclosure. In the morning, they would leave after sunrise, along with the beach, chase seagulls, and experience unknown adventures.

The Tanner envied them their freedom and considered to gather assets and move to Joppa - where it was said - &nbsp;prospered all the real professionals who came to that port city.

- Hey! Who's coming? Shouted the man.

The dogs surrounded the pair, but without attacking them. Superstitiously the Tanner believed that was a good sign. Dogs "sensed" evil spirits. If neither of the dogs had attacked the men, it is because bad-timer bearers they were not.

- We came in peace! Cried the bearded man.

The Tanner rested his hand on the dagger at his waist. The skin still hung from his other hand.

- If you're robbers, I have nothing. Unless you want to carry my skins and the stink that will stick to your body forever, "the Tanner exclaimed in a menacingly convincing way.

The travelers stopped at the ragged and reed fence.
- That's where the smell came from - said Reuel.
Gadarene waited for the owner to signal permission for them to come closer. Then the two of them opened a door and crossed the reed fence.

They approached slowly, watching, attentively, the structure of the place. Racks with stretched whole skins occupied the sides of the outside area. From inside the house came smoke rising from a fire on which a tripod lay where the leather was smoked.

The Tanner did not recognize Reuel, but the Gadarene looked familiar to him.

- We're looking for work - said Reuel.

- As you can see, work is not scarce, but I have no pay to give to an auxiliary, let alone two!

And then he felt comfortable to share his complaints. Business was not going well. Except "religious business"! Whether falsifiers or real ones, the piety leaders were plucking from regular contributions from the followers. See the priests, he said. Fat and fed, they are feasting at our expense. And they did not stop popping, no matter how much the Empire had hung several of them on the crosses from time to time. Fake Messiahs and pretended liberators, they used to accuse. "Politics and Religion" that is the formula of enrichment!

The Tanner had even thought of inventing a religion to try to make a fortune. He would use animals for sacrifice, but only the blood would be offered. His god would be modest. All the flesh, all of it, could be consumed among the faithful. "Food attracts people," he said. The bones would be crushed and used as fertilizer or could be transformed into sacred amulets. The skin, of course, would be utilized. Clothes, sandals, saddlebags, mounts, whips, and whatever his creativity could allow. He would do everything right there.

The two visitors nodded and exchanged a word or two in response. They did not have much to say, and luckily the Tanner kept talking and talking.

The Gadarene remembered what he had said to Reuel earlier that morning: everyone had needs. The Tanner's need was to have someone to hear him.

And while hearing him, the two companions delighted their host - and he brought them fresh water to drink, and a basin to wash their feet, and goats' milk, and a cake of flour and oil, and - finally - presented himself. His name was Simon, Simon "The Tanner."

The man seemed to be there for years. The stench has impregnated her skin, pores, hair, and breath. His property also carried the marks of time and use

Blackened with soot, two walls stood on either side of the tannery; a third one in the background dividing the workplace from where the Tanner used to rest. In the center, a large basin, dug in natural rock and covered with Roman mortar, seemed reserved to clean the skins.

Outside, at the front yard, a fence protected the small property and - at the same time - allowed the flow of air from the lake that, according to the man had taught them, contributed to the drying of the skins and the healing process as well carried the odors away.

And it was the bad smell of the tanners the reason which condemned them to live and work far from city walls. They could not, as the other merchants, to keep their business at the city gates. So, they had to relay the ready-made, clean and scentless leather to the marketers sell it.

The foul smell exuded continually from the liquid that was flowed from dehydrated skins, mixed with the fresh odors of fat and blood from other skins that waiting for the salting and the skinning. Additionally, there was still the constant smoke and the boiler where animal brains were melted until it formed a paste that would coat the leather in another stage of the process.

All in all, the result was a life of loneliness or bad company. Only indigent clients used to approach Simon, looking for best prices - lower than those practiced by professional sellers in the markets. Old prostitutes and vagrants used to come. Prostitutes who followed tramps, who followed dogs, who followed the tannery's odor. And that smell, consistently, followed Simon wherever he went.

Religious and "honored" people always kept a "safe" distance from him and from his place. Laws forbade tanners from marrying anyone without, first, warning the suitors of their occupancies. "Lepers without leprosy, that's what we are," he used to lament.

"Do you really wanna be leather tanners? Are you sure?" Simon teased. Then, suddenly he remembered the bearded man sitting in front of him.

- I remember you! His finger pointed unceremoniously to the face of the Gadarene, who smiled rather uneasily.

Reuel straightened up at the stool where he sat and sensed the worst. Simon, he feared, would scream blue murder if identifying the Possessed of Gadara right there in front of him, in his house, asking him for a job. He might consider that the Gadarene was trying to take advantage of his condition of the need to put himself as an envoy of the Evil - ready to steal him the few goods or even his soul.

"You ... You ..." Simon snapped his fingers, trying to recall the visitor's name - "Ioudas!" He shouted triumphantly.

The Gadarene looked at Reuel and stammered something.
"No, no," redressed Simon. "Actually, Ioudas is your father's name, isn't it? Ioudas, a Damascene merchant.

- Yes! Ioudas, my father, my father... - The Gadarene remembered.

Simon didn't understand why that bearded man's eyes filled with tears. "Maybe he's amazed at my prodigious memory," he thought. Then, Tanner's face brightened.

- You came here and got the biggest purchase of the season! - His memory now flowing like the skin fat during the skinning process - You bought me bags and sheaths for daggers and belts and sandals and what more your companions asked for on occasion. You bought it and gave it to them! - Simon clapped his hands on his dirty apron, absolutely enchanted.

Simon stared at the Gadarene. "The son of Ioudas, the Damascene." He was sure about that. His beard was thick now, his hair no longer lined up and oiled like before.

He also seemed to have aged ten years although two or less had passed trough. And where were the other friends? And where was the money now?

Realizing what was happening, Reuel sighed in relief. For a moment he had forgotten that his former colleague had lived a normal life before he had become a dwelling place for demons.

They spent the day in the company of Simon, the Tanner, and all of them were benefited, to some extent, from the stay. Due to the tanner's ability to work in leather, Reuel had his torn clothes mended.

They talked, fed, learned a little about the art of making leather, and handled other less scented services: firewood for the fire, food for breeding, small repairs in the enclosure and stuffs like that. They bathed and, at the invitation of the host, they slept, finally, the best night's sleep in years.

The next morning, on the farewell moment, the two mates had been gifted with bread and fish by the tanner for the journey. The Gadarene wished to stay. He had remembered so many things in that place. Maybe because of his over-talkative host. So many words were that it seemed to jump into his head and dance a dance of the veils with his memories. "Money", "trading", "travels"... "theft".

His father was a fabric merchant as he now remembered. And what else? A trip to a place far away ... A scare ... Pain ... Emptiness ... Emptiness ... Memory failed to sequence the most distant episodes.

What came next reminded him better of the inn, the friendship of Reuel, and of what he had told him. And then, the waste of the goods, the bankruptcy, the exile and the freedom two days ago. Why he had left home and where he'd walked trough - this, he still did not know, he didn't remember.

The son of Ioudas looked at the fish and remembered something else: the story the disciples had told him about Jesus approach.
"Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men."
Maybe the Tanner agreed to accompany them.
"Simon," he said, "would you like to come with us and become a fisher of men?"

The Tanner smiled, shaking his head. He knew nothing about fishing. He had been a tanner all his life, and that was all he knew to be. Besides what, a Fisher of "men"? He was aware that it was a figure of speech, it could only be, but "fisher of men," for real, couldn't be. He did not know how at least.

Then Reuel noticed a missing element in the analogy. If Jesus had called fishermen to be "fishers of men," perhaps it was because there should be in the invitation a known element, that was dominated by the guests: fishing. At the same time a new, unusual and challenging feature: fishing for human lives. So, the invitation would imply an improvement of the daily activity to a new and unprecedented level.

If so, the most appropriate would be to invite a tanner to be a "tanner of men."

"What do you do here, Simon?" began Reuel, extending his arm and showing the property of the Tanner, "Your job is to preserve what is about to deteriorate; it's to conserve and to give a brand new use. The smelly and dirty skin becomes something useful, durable, often essential.

The Gadarene understood the implications of the allegory presented by his companion and continued.
"We were like this, Simon. Dead skins, parts of something that once was alive and integrated but now became divided, separated and consumed or disintegrated. We have seen that here, you use the salt, use the fire, the oil and the wind. For preserving, debugging, hardening and softening. Do you want to join us? Come with us, and you will be a tanner of souls.

"Yes, it might as well be" - thought the tanner. He had been invited. He, to whom every used to ignore. His services and experience could lend themselves to a greater cause. Simon asked himself a silly question: What kind of smell did this new "service" would leave in?