In the morning, Pablo sat and counted what he had.
Three hundred and fifty Beli, all he had earned from Savia yesterday.
At first, the number seemed reasonable, but Pablo knew that numbers alone mean nothing without knowing their real value.
And he didn't know the value of Beli yet.
He decided to find out.
The village market wasn't a real market.
It was just a row of small stalls in the center of the village, some vegetables, fish, and simple necessities that their owners sold every morning.
At the end of the row, there was a small shop built of wood, slightly larger than the rest of the stalls.
Pablo entered quietly.
The merchant was a man in his fifties, large-bodied, his eyes capturing everyone who entered the same way: a look that measures the pocket before the face.
He looked at Pablo, then continued arranging his goods.
"What do you want?"
Pablo's eyes wandered over the shelves slowly.
There were simple soap bars, small containers for teeth cleaning, small bottles for hair washing, wooden combs.
And on the other side, eggs, milk, and pieces of meat wrapped in simple paper.
Pablo asked quietly: "How much is the soap?"
"One hundred and fifty Beli."
Pablo paused.
One hundred and fifty for one bar of soap.
He continued asking in the same quiet tone.
"Toothpaste?"
"Two hundred."
"Hair wash?"
"Two hundred and fifty."
"The comb?"
"Fifty."
Pablo nodded slowly and turned toward the food.
"Eggs, how much for a dozen?"
"Three hundred."
"Milk?"
"Two hundred and fifty for the bottle."
"Meat?"
"It starts from four hundred depending on the weight."
Pablo fell silent.
He calculated quickly in his head.
The four hygiene necessities alone equal six hundred and fifty Beli.
A reasonable amount of healthy food needs at least double that.
And the total far exceeds what he owns.
The merchant looked at him with eyes that knew what was happening in his head.
"Are you buying or not?"
Pablo stood in front of the shelf for a few seconds.
He hadn't expected the prices to be at this level in a poor, remote village.
But this is actually logical. The village is far from any trade route, and everything that reaches it costs more.
He took out his coins and counted them.
Only three hundred and fifty Beli.
He decided.
He bought a bar of soap for one hundred and fifty, a comb for fifty, and two single eggs for fifty.
He had one hundred Beli left.
No toothpaste, no hair wash, no milk, no meat.
The merchant placed the purchases in front of him without interest.
Pablo took them and left.
He returned to his room and put the soap and comb aside.
He lit a small fire in front of his room and placed a simple pot that the previous body's owner had put water on.
He waited until the water boiled, then lowered the two eggs gently.
He sat in front of the fire waiting.
After minutes, he took out the two eggs and let them cool a little.
He ate them slowly, without rushing.
They were not enough for a thirty-seven-year-old man used to real meals, but the stomach in this body is used to this amount.
He looked at the sky while chewing.
The remaining one hundred Beli will not feed him tomorrow.
He stood up.
Pablo went out to the village as the sun began to rise slowly.
He wandered through the alleys with open eyes, looking for any work that would give him food or Beli.
He passed a man repairing the roof of his house. He stopped and offered his help.
The man looked at him and refused his offer.
He passed a woman carrying heavy bags. He offered to carry them.
She told him she had arrived.
He stopped in front of a house where a man was sitting at his door making a fishing net.
"Do you need help?"
The man raised his head and looked at him indifferently.
"No."
Pablo continued walking.
At the end of one of the alleys, he saw a basket of vegetables left by its owner as he entered his house for a few minutes.
Pablo stopped.
He looked right and left.
No one.
Some potatoes and vegetables left unguarded.
He felt no weight in his chest toward the idea of stealing them. A man who sold drugs on the streets is not bothered by the idea of taking some vegetables.
But he didn't move.
Not because he backed away from the idea, but because he saw a woman looking out from the window of the opposite house.
The opportunity is not right.
He continued walking with the same calm.
After an hour of wandering, Pablo returned empty-handed.
No work, no food.
He stood for a moment in the middle of the village.
One option remained.
Fishing.
He returned to his room and took the fishing tools left by the previous body's owner: a small net, a simple fishing rod, and a line.
He headed toward the shore.
The tools felt strangely familiar in his hands. The body's memory knew them even if his mind did not.
He stood on the rocks overlooking the sea, where the body's owner used to fish.
He cast the rod and waited.
Minutes passed.
Nothing.
He moved the rod's position slightly.
Nothing.
He tried the net. He threw it the way the body remembered, but the throw came out wrong and fell very close.
He pulled it back and tried again.
Slightly better.
A third time.
This time the net spread correctly over the water before sinking.
He waited.
When he pulled it back, he found two medium-sized fish caught in it.
He looked at them.
Not much, but enough for dinner.
Pablo returned to his room with the two fish in his hand.
He sat in front of his room and lit a small fire and grilled the two fish quietly.
He ate them when they were cooked.
They were not entirely enough, but better than nothing.
He lay down slowly and looked at the ceiling.
For the first time since he arrived, he felt something he hadn't expected.
Not fear, not despair.
But weight.
The weight of a man who knows where he is, and knows how far the distance is between him and any place worth being.
Three hundred and fifty Beli a week from Savia, and that's if the work continues with her.
A full day to get two fish.
And one hundred Beli in his pocket.
This island will not give him what he wants. No matter how much he works here, its ceiling is very low.
Real money is outside.
But outside is far away, and now he only has one hundred Beli.
He closed his eyes.
The problem is clear.
The solution is not clear yet.
But he will find it.
No other choice.