Childhood of the Dead (15 page)

“We have to use our heads,” Pin said.

“First we check out the supermarket. We ain't going there, like a bunch of crazies, without studying the place, man. We can even make a drawing of the building. Then, we go in. I bet it'll work,” Dito said.

Encravado began to trust Dito.

“I'd been thinking of something like this for a long time. I only needed the partners.”

“Now you have them, and everything will be cool. By next week, we'll already have the dough in our pockets. Not small change to make us have to beg from one of these sons of bitches around here. Big stuff.”

“If we can get some real dough, I'll buy me a boat and become a fisherman,” Pin planned aloud.

“I'll stop working.” Encravado said ironically.

“Tomorrow I'll check out a supermarket. Later on we gather here and make a drawing of it,” Dito continued.

“Almost all of them have a mezzanine for the manager. One of us will hold the manager while the others run away.”

“And why not bring the manager out in the street with us, to give us cover?” Dito wondered.

“Cool, man. I hadn't thought about this,” Pin replied.

“One of us will stay at the door to keep on the lookout.

“And the weapons?” Pin wanted to know.

“That's easy.” Scourge will know where to find them. I got a gun. Two more will be enough. With the rest of the money we buy toy guns, just to scare the fools,” Dito said.

“And how do we escape?”

“How? We run. Each one to his favorite place. Later we meet here.”

There was nothing else to be discussed. They needed to wait for Mother's Scourge and Figurinha. Dito knew thwy would be coming along. If his clothes had been a little cleaner he would have gone to the movies. He had the money. But he couldn't risk being caught. With that shirt and that jacket almost black now, he wouldn't be able to buy a ticket. He would end up making a scene at the ticket office and a policeman would show up. It would be better just to stay put.

A blond woman went along the opposite sidewal; Pin whistled, putting both index fingers in his mouth. It was a very loud whistle, of the kind that hurts the ears. No one in the group knew how to whistle louder than Pin. He was proud of it. The woman turned back and, looking at him, smiled.

“Where's Sueli?”

“She's coming in no time.”

The woman walked away.

“There it is man. Want to fool around with Beth? She'll be alone in about two hours. And Sueli is coming to Cinelândia.”

“It's not a bad idea.”

“Go on. You don't need to be introduced. It's the building after the little bar.”

Dito carried his jacket over the shoulders, after tying up his shoes and asking Encravado to talk to Mother's Scourge and to look for Figurinha.

“We'll see each other later.”

He left kicking the ficus seeds that covered the sidewalk. He crossed the street at the light among the rushing people. The stores had already closed for the day, their windows lit up. The buses went by very crowded while a traffic policeman whistled nervously at the intersection. He moved away from the noises of the street and from those of the bar filled with men drinking beer; he climbed the wooden stairs and met a fat woman who was just leaving, carrying a bag.

“Where's Beth's apartment?”

The woman looked at him with disdain and pointing to the end of the hallway, said, “It must be number 125.”

Dito passed by several closed doors. Lights were turned on in 125. Dito knocked at the door lightly, and when the door opened he saw the girl he had not seen in such a long time.

“Hi,” she said smiling.

“Hi,” he answered asking if he could come in.

“Please, feel at home. It's not a big place but it's functional.”

He threw his jacket on the ripped sofa and asked for a glass of water.

“I don't think I have water, but if you want rum and peach juice, I have it, it's really better.”

She opened the bottle and served the glasses. All the while Dito looked at the posters she had plastered on the walls, at the paper and plastic knick knacks, at the wicker lamp, the small colorful rugs and at the mirror in front of which Beth would put her make up on. After the first sip Dito smacked his lips in approval, which prompted Beth to explain it was a brand from Petro'polis, where she had friends. Dito smiled in courtesy, uninterested in the subject. When she asked him about his life, he stood up shrugging his shoulders with indifference. She offered, then, to wash his shirt.

“It will be dry by the time you leave,” she said.

At first he didn't accept the offer, which he found a bit humiliating; but she insisted, opening his shirt buttons. That intimacy, her touching him with her long colored nails, excited him. He shuddered once and touched her face. They looked at each other intently until Beth moved her lips closer to his and they kissed. Dito, who had tried to control the drink in his hand, pulled away to place his glass on the floor. They rushed back to kissing, though Beth, this time, slipped her hands underneath his shirt. Dito held her thighter than he ever thought possible. They laid down on the sofa. When Beth took her blouse off showing her rosy breats Dito shoved aside his pants. She tickled him as she played with his hairs and he hugged her again. Beth let herself be caught, stretching her legs. She stirred and moaned. Dito felt a strange sensation, as if he were losing control. He saw the mist of perspiration on Beth's face as the rest of her clothes fell to the ground. The lamp's light shone on her rounded thighs and on the arms that squeezed him with frenzy. He heard the dissonant sounds of the sofa's springs and felt her nails scratching his back. The more ardent she became the greater his appetite for her body and the more intense his regret for not having looked for her earlier, when Pin had first told him of her desire.

When Beth cried quietly Dito felt his body quake. Soon after, they stretched, exhaustion taking them over. Dito rolled down to the rugs on the floor but Beth remained breathless on the sofa, looking at him, smiling, whispering sweet nothings to him. Dito didn't feel like saying anything. He wanted only to look at her, observe her naked body, feel her within the reach of his hands and his desires. He realized she probably liked him, or she wouldn't have given herself up so easily. Now he wanted her to wash his shirt, to have a justification for staying; to be able to roll with her again; to sleep there, and who knows, perhaps wake up late when the sun was up high and the streets were already crowded.

Beth asked him things he didn't want to answer. He stood up and filled their glasses with the peach drink. They feel less ceremonious drinking together, now. Dito told her of the first day he arrived in Rio, and she told him at that time she lived in Cruzeiro. All the time, she talked, he was thinking of the people one meets and never sees again.

“I like you because you are not like the others,” she said.

Dito was playing with her hair. He felt like giving her a gift, something she could wear on her arms or on her neck. She told him not to worry, not to spend money foolishly.

“I would like it if you came here more often,” Beth added.

Dito nodded, still feeling he would like to buy her either a goldchain necklace or a bracelet. If it were expensive, he would just take it from a showcase. It wouldn't be difficult and Beth didn't need to know how he acquired it. She finished her drink and had another one. Then, she sat on the floor, passing her legs over Dito. Feeling her skin pleased him and slowly his body waked up again. He kissed her on her belly, on her breasts; he lightly bit one of her thighs. Beth moaned sweetly letting her hair fall down, covering Dito's back. They hugged: their bodies intertwining. Dito fell backward on the wooden floor, Beth riding him. The room's ceiling appeared to Dito to be turning around, the light oscillating. And again, with their fingers interwoven in anxiety and nervousness; with Beth's body shaking, her hair covering his face; with his pulling her closer and closer to his body; with their voracious kissing where trembling tongues exchanged breaths and saliva; her entire body was taken over by a tremor that made Dito come again and left Beth moaning and holding on to him, her knees firmly grounded on the wooden floor.

She laid down over him, and played with his eyes, his thin nose, following with her nails the contour of his lips.

“I think you're great!”

Dito answered praising her.

“Each woman is beautiful in her own way,” she answered.

Dito told her, then, she was beautiful.

“How many women have you had?”

He didn't answer right away, then he raised two fingers.

“Two?” Beth found that funny. “I can teach you lots of things. You come here, whenever you want.”

He promised her to come, perhaps twice a week. But she wasn't satisfied, she wanted it to be more frequently.

“I am usually alone in the first hours of the morning.”

“I don't want to mess up your life.”

Beth's smile sparkled again. Her eyes appeared to close. They kissed and hugged again. She stood up going to the bathroom and mentioned that she needed to wash the clothes. He only followed her with his eyes.

“Sleep here tonight. The clothes will be dry in the morning.”

Dito stayed lying down on the parquet floor. He heard Beth's talk along with the sound of the few cars passing in the street, the sound of a far away radio or television, the water in the bidet and the toilet flush. When she asked whether he was hungry he found himself surprised by her interest. She went on about her business naked, getting the pans, opening cabinets. Dito stood up catching her from behind and as they hugged, Beth bit his hands. On the table she had laid out a margarine stick, a Vienna sausage can to be opened and potatoes to cook. In the sink she had left the washed up rice, draining.

“Don't you want to be mine only?” She asked him.

Her face was close to his eyes and, for the first time, she spoke without smiling. Her lips approached him, touching his skin. Dito stayed quiet, not knowing how to answer. She repeated her question, facing him squarely.

“I can make you happy!” She tempted him.

“And what would I do for you?”

The embraced once again. Beth was enchanted by his sincerity.

“Later on, you find a job and forget street life,” she said.

He didn't say anything else. He was sure she was right. That's what would have to happen. He smiled, feeling the aroma of Beth's skin; the brushing of her buttocks on his body, her thin and warm body. She managed to put the rice to boil and to open the magarine stick. He decided then to go to the bathroom. Beth kept on talking.

“If you want it, everything can turn out fine!” She said. “I think it's a good idea,” Dito answered without thinking.

“We can even move to another city!” She continued.

Dito thought of his friends, of the plans he had made; of going to Sao Paulo; of meeting Zé Ina'cio, Black Fly and Armadillo; of killing Big Purple, Caramel, and possibly Dr. Mauro. He would have to find out where he lived, how he went home, where he would be with friends, which club he frequented. He could spend years doing that, but one day he would be able to surprise the man. And then he wouldn't be able to do anything. So, Beth's invitation would go against all his decisions. He didn't know if he was accepting them or just agreeing with her not to displease her. He wanted to stay for the night, next to her kisses and to her warm body.

IV

Dito pushed the cart in between the aisles, along the shelves where products were presented in ostentatious packaging. He remembered to shop for Beth while casing the strategic places in the supermarket. He went to the deli counter and noticed a door behind it. Clearly it was the way to the manager's office. After he believed he had enough items in his cart, he gathered his courage and asked an employee to use the bathroom. The man showed him the way.

He went through the door, disregarded the instructions he received, and climbed up the stairs. As he had imagined, the stairs led him to a room with a plaque:
office
. He went in and walked down a narrow hallway. Several people worked at tables covered with papers. He counted them: five men, plus the man behind the counter. He went on, one of the men asked him what he wanted. He said he was looking for the bathroom. An older man told him it was on the other floor. Dito apologized, but while the man talked to him, he was alerted to all the details in the office, including the fact that no one else appeared to notice his presence.

While he urinated, he realized the plan would not be difficult to carry through. Leaving the bathroom he used the opportunity to observe the supermarket's back door. He concluded it would be easier to get inside through that door, without security noticing. But he would look from the outside after finishing shopping, just to make sure. He was already feeling that they wouldn't run into many problems. If successful, then, only then, he would be able to give Beth an answer. She could be right: it might be a good idea to forget street life. He would forget also the people who were after him. Even if he killed all of them that would not bring back Starry, Zebra, Pichote, or Smokey. He would move to another city, as Beth had suggested, and would spend some time out of circulation.

He went back to his cart, passing close to the canned goods shelves. He picked up ham and sausages, then, figs and peaches in heavy syrup. Beth would like that. He also got a plastic bag with pens. He took one out, and made a drawing in one of the packages. Those were his notes on the building's plan.

He got in line observing some kids who took advantage of the supermarket's slow movement to ran around with a couple of carts. He also considered the bald man who turned the book stand again and again, examining one volume, than another, only to decide not to take any. He saw a woman leave her children in line to go pick up a forgotten egg carton and a black man pushing beer botles to the side of the cash register's clerk. Dito used the time to study the people coming in and out; the uniformed security and the other plain clothes security men. Nothing would go wrong, he was sure. They would only need to be cautious, and they would be able to act without worries.