A boy goes up a palm tree at nine years old, barefoot, with a rope of cut flour sacks around his feet. Forty-six years later he has the whole trade in his hands except the one part that never changed: the fruit still comes down from twenty meters up, on a man's shoulder, with that same rope. Rosivan was seventeen when he worked out why a a goes sour. He knew it with his tongue, the way a man knows who has eaten it every day of his life, and nobody on that river was going to take a boy's tongue as proof. So he cut marks into a post to prove it, and was told that a mark in wood is only his word again, in wood. The person who told him that was Nazar , eighteen years old, who kept a third column in her father's ledger that nobody had asked her for. The hour. THE GOLD OF PAR is what those two did with one fruit across forty-six years, told by the man himself, in the order it happened and with the count left in. A scale hanging from a beam that read twelve when it read fourteen, and a girl who lifted the rasa three fingers to show it. A box of sawdust that bought the fruit one tide of life. A Thursday bought from a father-in-law who never said a kind word in five years. Twenty-two Thursdays standing in the same row at the Ver-o-Peso before the man on the next crate introduced him to anybody. A price fixed in January against a whole year, closed on a handshake, on a bank where the groves were being cut down for buffalo, because a a pays two months a year and a buffalo walks to the boat on its own. And the morning he understood he had become the buyer he had spent three years teaching a river not to need. It is a book about six hours, and about everything a man builds to fit inside them: the ice, the sawdust, the freezing machine, the truck, the plane, the offices in five countries, the line printed on the box beside a palm tree drawn by a five-year-old who couldn't read yet. It is about a day care that cost a boat, and a girl of thirteen who went back to school because of it. It is about an old man who spent twenty-five years quietly paying, out of his own pocket, for something his son-in-law did at twenty-seven while he thought he was setting the world right. And it is about a friend who went up every day with a bad knee for twenty-six years, and the offer he refused four times. Today they call him seu Rosivan. The seu in front of it took half a lifetime to arrive, and that is what this story is about.
ThriftBooks sells millions of used books at the lowest everyday prices. We personally assess every book's quality and offer rare, out-of-print treasures. We deliver the joy of reading in recyclable packaging with free standard shipping on US orders over $15. ThriftBooks.com. Read more. Spend less.