Childhood of the Dead (5 page)

“She's with a guy!”

There couldn't be anything better for Dito's anger. He just had to decide what to do. Should he knock on the door and wait until they opened it, or should he simply break in? The opportunity was too good to rush it. He doubted he could break down this door with a shoulder push. That's why he decided to knock. Lightly. As if it were Celina.

“Who's that?”

He knocked again. The door opened. It was the guy Manguito had seen. Dito pulled the trigger. The stranger didn't have time to utter a word. One shot in the belly, two in the chest. Deborah yelled in anguish, but Dito was already by her side, while Manguito finished off the guy to avoid any surprises. Deborah looked much younger now than in the morning.

“We came to get the money.”

“I've had it from early on. I don't know why that crazy police chief got involved in what was none of his business!”

The woman said these things and opened drawer after drawer. Manguito went over to the telephone and cut the wire. “We'll talk better this way.”

“Are you expecting anyone?”

The woman, in rattlebrained nervousness, said she didn't know. Dito pointed a knife at her neck.

“Your death will be slow, bitch. And instead of three grand we want six.”

Deborah found the purse with the money and gave it all to Dito.

“You can keep it. It has more than ten thousand. It's all yours but don't kill me!”

“See if she's not lying again. I bet this is funny money.”

He forced the woman to sit down. With the point of the knife, he ripped her blouse, cutting off her slip straps. Two large soft breasts were exposed.

“Slut!”

Manguito finished counting the money.

“Nine grand here!”

“See, she just said there was more than ten,” said Dito nervously.

“It was a misunderstanding,” the woman said crying.

“But we're the ones who suffer.”

She tried to run away when she thought Dito was distracted. He pulled her by the hair and stuck his knife in her back, then in her belly. She raised her arms, Manguito covered her mouth, she began then to lose strength. Now, Dito was really covered with blood. He went in Deborah's bedroom, opened the closet, searched for a shirt, changed, combed his hair, fixed his eye bandage, turned off the light and closed the door from the outside.

Manguito put all the money in his pocket. They joined Smokey, who'd remained seated at the doorpost.

“Everything OK?”

“Better than we expected,” Dito answered.

“Now, we only gotta get away,” Manguito stressed.

Outside, they hailed a cab passing by and disappeared.

In the early morning hours they were asleep on benches in the train station. Dito had already got the information about a freight leaving at five for Rio. He tipped the clerk and even discovered the train's number. By four o'clock he would wake up Smokey. They would disappear in the sidings and get into a wagon. They wouldn't return to Sao Paulo soon, at least until the large police chief had forgotten them. Thinking about these things, Dito leaned his head back on the seat and fell asleep for some moments.

VI

He woke up with the arrival of a passenger train, the first departing train of the day. If only they had permits for travelling minors, they could have got tickets easily. But he hadn't wanted to risk it. Any carelessness could result in prison for sure. An old man carrying a bag and a suitcase stopped close by, setting his load on the ground. There were two girls and a boy with him. The older girl stared at Dito whenever he was not paying attention. When he looked at her, she turned her eyes away. A man selling candies and sweets came by; Dito offered some to the girl and her brother. The little boy accepted it, dividing the chocolate bar with his sisters while the old man looked at Dito thankfully.

“Do you know if the second class coach has arrived, already?”

Dito shook his head. He didn't know. “Where are you going?”

“Itapecirica. We're coming from Joao Pessoa. A long ways!”

The station was filling up with people, the railroad workers arrived, the women who swept the cigarret butts from the floor started to work. Dito decided to wake up Smokey and Manguito.

“Come on, it's almost morning.”

Once again he looked at the pale girl with long straight hair. He walked to the end of the platform, jumped over the tracks, closely followed by his friends. They stopped behind a partial wall and looked to see if they were being followed. They eventually reached the sidings and the train. There were fifteen cars, more or less, pulled by only one locomotive. They slid below the wagons, and climbed over couplers. They forced the first door they found unlatched and sat down among bales of merchandise.

“Your eye is getting to be all purple, man,” Manguito said.

“By the time we get get there it should be better.”

Manguito cut his speech short, understanding that Dito didn't like that observation. He then reclined against a bale, playing with some kernels of grain he had found loose. Smokey was joking around. Manguito smiled. Dito was distant. His thoughts were scattered among Crystal, Pichote and the girl with straight hair. He tried to cheer up, to laugh at Smokey's sillines, but what he saw was Crystal gesticulating, talking smoothly, rubbing the chalk on the end of his cue stick for one more play. Above this calm image of calculated words, Pichote ran: thin legs, the fabric of his cheap shirt quivering on his back, a baby-toothed smile. Why did they kill him? Why, when they had only been crossing through, to avoid the snitches and criminals? He couldn't find an explanation, however much he thought about it. “We should have bought a sandwich,” said Smokey.

“When the train stops, we can buy bananas,” Manguito said.

“And until then?”

Manguito found the boy's worry comical.

“You dream that you're drinking coffee with milk, eating buttered bread. That's all you need to do and your hunger will go away.”

Smokey frowned, Dito smiled.

“When we get the entire gang together,” he said, “we won't get into these deals with people like Crystal. We have to think about another way to get some money!”

“Sell things in the streets.”

“We steal from the stores and sell,” Smokey said.

“They will book us in a second.”

“I think it's better to control two or three large parking lots.”

“Good idea. We clean the outside of the car and take the things from the inside,” Smokey suggested.

Dito laughed again.

“Man, you only think about stealing!”

The train began to move. The wheels made piercing noises, clacking on the tracks.

“How long will it take us to get to Rio?” Manguito asked, without expecting an answer.

“Anyday now we'll get there,” said Smokey, who appeared very happy.

“The best thing for us to do to make easy money,” Dito continued, “is to do business in the open-air markets. The ladies need boys to push their carts, and that's us . . . .”

“You think this is great?”

“It may not be, but it is profitable. When Deborah's cash is spent, we will need reinforcements. Better not wait till it's gone.”

“What about the police?'

“Cut it out! There won't be police officers who would want to bother people helping housewives.”

“I think it's a good idea,” Manguito said.

“I do too!” said Smokey.

The freight made a curve, Smokey looked out. The region they were crossing was filled with clay banks and there were shacks in the distance. For a moment his eyes caught a dog running after a boy.

“Bring your head in. The brakeman spots you, it'll be hell,” warned Manguito.

Smokey sat down again and began to play a game with the loose kernels. Dito paid no attention, he lay down on his back, over the bales and followed the noise of the wheels against the joints in the tracks. Some quick and dry clicks, similar to those he had heard before Pichote stumbled into death, falling in that cool and clear morning, his hand filled with dead flowers.

* * *

CHAPTER THREE

I

Dito looked at himself in the bar's mirror, where they announced in large painted white letters the plates of the day. He saw his eye was less swollen. The blue color was disappearing, giving way to a yellowish green. He pulled off another piece of adhesive tape and covered the bruise. He asked for coffee and bread, flashed his money first so the man behind the counter would serve him. Finally, he sat at the table with Smokey. Manguito had gone away early looking for Encravado and Mother's Scourge. Dito hoped to find the others before the end of the week. Then, they could begin with the business at the market. They would collect the money and divide it in equal parts. If that wasn't enough, they'd get some flannel rags and they would clean the windshields of cars stopped at red lights; sell newspapers, peanuts at doors of movie theaters and night clubs.

Smokey complained of too much milk in the coffee so Dito called the waiter back. Later, for no reason, Dito asked Smokey if he wouldn't want to visit his home.

“What home?”

“Your family's!”

Smokey showed his teeth.

“Get out of here. I have no family. My father fell from a building under construction when I was two. My mother was left alone. She washed clothes, and made candy for sale at the Maracana~ Stadium. People would buy the candy but not pay her. One day she was taken away in an ambulance and never returned.”

“What happened?”

“I don't know, man. She didn't show up anymore. Neighbors took care of me, until they found out what had happened and they ran away.

Smokey ate a hunk of bread and drank his coffee with milk.

“And your people, where are they?”

Dito appeared somewhat embarassed.

“They're all over there in Sao Paulo. It's been a long time since I've seen them. They wouldn't know me anymore.”

The waiter brought the change. After counting it, Dito pocketed it and left the bar with Smokey. They walked along a street with filthy gutters and entered an alley of irregular paving. Everywhere there were decayed houses with large dilapidated windows where women's clothes hung out to dry. Dito suggested a swim in the sea.

“Let's enjoy the sun. We can wait for Manguito at the public square.”

“What if Crystal shows up?”

“Why should he?”

“I dunno. These people don't forget.”

“Then, we do him in. We can't lose nothing by waiting”

Smokey threw a stone at some pigeons scratching the earth below the almond trees; they flew up only to land further away. He ran threatening to catch one of them and returned.

“Have you ever eaten roasted pigeon?”

Dito said no.

“It's very good.”

They crossed the freeway, Smokey hopped into an ornamental garden of grasses and flowers. Dito took off his shirt, climbed some rocks, reached the sand where the waves drove ashore throwing up seaweed and foam. They hid their clothes in the rocks' crevices and got into the water. Dito's first care was to wash his wound well, then his arms and legs.

“Jeez, we will get out of here whiter,” he said laughing at Smokey.

“I'm gonna get blacker, with so much sun.”

When they got tired of the water, they stretched out on the sand.

“Later on we can eat at the Italian woman's boarding house.”

“Where is that?”

“Close to Arcos. It's great!”

“But before, we gotta find Manguito.”

Smokey enjoyed throwing stones in the water, while Dito sunned his face. With his eyes closed he could still see the huge police chief asking Caramel to get the piece of water hose from the drawer. Then the beating. And every time he said Deborah's name, the man appeared to be even more furious. He couldn't understand.

He sat down when Smokey called him to show the beach towel he'd stolen. They dried themselves off, cleaned their feet, and put on shoes.

“Let's come back some other day.”

“Not a bad idea,” Dito answered. “It'll depend on the kind of work we're going to get. This thing of being at the beach is not for us.”

They climbed back over the rocks, crossed the expanse of grass, ran in front of the cars and reached the square where they spotted Manguito.

“Hey, how's it going?”

Mother's Scourge said nothing, simply making a face. Encravado babbled something, Pin said Brown Sugar couldn't be found.

“I think he flew the coop. No one has seen a sign of him in the slum.

“He'll show up. He knows he's one of us,” Dito said.

Smokey talked again about the Italian woman's boarding house. Encravado knew where it was.

“It's time for us to act as a group,” Dito warned. “There's only one thing: we can't screw up. We'll either come here or go to the rocks at the water's edge, late afternoons. When they find us, we change meeting places.”

“Early tomorrow, the whole gang goes to Glo'ria's market, to work. We got to sweet-talk the housewives, so they'll spill the money,” said Manguito.

Dito returned to planning lunch, deciding that Smokey, Encravado and Manguito would eat first. When they returned, Mother's Scourge, himself and Pin would go.

II

The first morning at the market was lively. The sun was warm, and the stalls' awnings shaded the vegetables, tomatoes, oranges, bananas, pumpkins and watermelons piled up underneath. Among the booths, strong men scaled fish; a woman filled up baskets with string beans; an old retiree chose a head of lettuce carefully; a street vendor sold lemons gathered on a broken plate; a paralytic dragged himself along the asphalt, selling rolls of lottery ticket. A red tent was decorated with strings of braided onions and the smell of fish, ripe mangoes and guavas permeated the air.

Encravado had already snared a housewife who'd entrusted her purchases to him. Manguito walked up and down with a basket on his head. Smokey held on to an old man's paper wrapped fish while Pin pushed a cart filled with watermelons and green bananas. Meanwhile, Mother's Scourge had disappeared. Dito was asked by a farmer to help him unload pork from a truck. He promised Dito twenty for the work, Dito thought this was a good deal; after all he'd be free in less than one hour. When the truck was unloaded the man asked him if he wouldn't like to help on other days.

“It depends.”

“Thirty plus lunch.”

“Deal. At what time do I get here?”

“Five thirty, six. You have to wake up early and work hard. On the other hand you have the rest of the day to relax.”

Dito went away certain it wasn't a bad proposition. He sat in the square, around the fountain, waiting for his friends. The first to show up was Mother's Scourge, happy. He showed Dito his money and from a bag he took out the items he had snitched: cigarettes, pears and a pack of hard candy.

“It looks as if we've found a mine, little brother!”

Dito didn't like that.

“I think we should worry only with carrying groceries. Or soon someone will be onto what you're doing and they'll get you.”

Mother's Scourge didn't believe that.

“Cut it out! I look ahead and behind me. Like a crab. No tide is gonna drown me.”

“That's what everybody says. Sooner or later it's all over.”

Dito stretched out on the stone bench, staring at the yellow leaves falling from the trees. Scourge opened the cigarettes offering one to Dito who accepted, puffing out the smoke as if he were the happiest young man in the world.

“The rest of the group will be getting here soon. Pin is gonna to be late. The lady wanted him to go up to her house... I never get so lucky.”

“When we have more money,” Dito said, “we can put up a real business. Then we'll say good bye to misery.”

“Many people have tried,” said Mother's Scourge.

“That doesn't matter. It's our turn now!”

“What kind of business?”

“Hot dogs and steamed corn: street vendor.”

“You think it will bring money?”

“It has to.”

“If you try the animal lottery you line your pockets faster!”

“But we would still end up in shit,” Dito said. “I don't want no business with them people.”

Smokey arrived happy, followed by Encravado and Pin, who still pushed his cart.

“Where'd you get this?”

“I bought it from some dumbass.”

“Can you make it work for you?”

“Sure. It rolled all the way to Flamengo.”

Dito stood up, got the money he earned and added it to theirs. Together, they'd had ninety. He divided by six, giving fifteen to each one. When Mother's Scourge grumbled, Dito foresaw problems.

“For your information, the loser today was me. I earned twenty and I now am getting only fifteen, just like everyone else.”

Mother's Scourge smiled awkwardly.

“Let it be. Tomorrow is another day.”

Smokey wanted to go to the movies; Pin talked about dinner.

“I'm gonna stuff myself. And then, maybe depending on the way things turn out, we can try a movie.”

“No way man. I'm gonna get me some woman in a corner. With these fifteen and the change I have, it's more than enough,” said Encravado.

“If it continues to trickle in,” said Dito, “I might be able to rent a vacant room. Nothing like a night in bed. I am tired of sleeping on park benches or on church steps.”

“That's right,” Manguito agreed. “It's about time to stop this bum's life.”

“I don't live with jerks I don't know,” said Pin. “It's worse than sleeping outside.”

“Such a suspicious man,” exclaimed Mother's Scourge ironically.

Smokey pushed Pin's cart from side to side and Dito stayed sprawled out on the stone bench, thinking of nothing. Encravado found an excuse and left with Mother's Scourge. Manguito sat at the edge of the pool to wash his dirty shirt, now almost as dark as asphalt. Listening to the noise of Smokey's rocking cart and to the beating of the wet shirt at the edge of the pool, Dito began to consider the possibility of going to live in the caves formed by the rocks at the edge of the sea. They could take up several of them. If by chance they ended up surprised by the police, they would have ways of escaping. They could organize passages, linking one cave to another, and keep their exit well disguised. They could escape at the least sign of trouble. He felt like laughing at the possibility. Why hadn't he thought about this long ago? Pin was right. To get himself in a rooming house, with people he had never seen, wasn't the safest deal. He had exposed himself too much to risk that. The police chief in Sao Paulo should be after him. By now he'd have talked to the people from the juvenile courts, other police stations in different cities would already know about the problem. At the smallest mistake he would be caught. The caves offered security. He'd see about this the following morning. He'd take Encravado, Smokey and Manguito with him. The others would work in the market. They needed a place to stay. They couldn't continue for much longer to gather in that square full of people and policemen as soon as it got dark.

III

Dito pulled his feet from the sack and saw that Smokey and Manguito were still asleep. The day had dawned in a drizzle. Dito had awakened with rain drops on his face and arms. He leaned against the heavy church door, embellished by round pointed spikes and iron bars. He called Smokey and nudged Manguito.

“Let's get out of here. Get coffee in Lapa, and go to the caves in Aterro.

“Caves?”

“That's right. Over there we can sleep late, without being scared of the police.”

“What about the open market?”

“We'll miss it today.”

They started to walk, Manguito had no energy, Smokey walked flat-footed because his new shoes were already well broken down. They passed by a movie theater, by a newspaper stand where two men were organizing the counter; they passed close to a garbage truck, by the bus stop where people appeared sleepy, especially the women who were leaving the cabarets.

Café Indi'gena had its lights on but few people were at the tables. Dito chose a secluded spot. He didn't sit by the door because the waiter would fear serving him. He placed a bill of ten on the table. The waiter was dark and thin. He had thick veins in his neck and one eye consumed by trachoma. He was wearing a white shirt, a little black bow tie, black trousers, shoes worn down at the heels. He shouted Dito's orders through the port-hole, from which came buttered toasts, cups of coffee, soft boiled eggs, sandwiches.

“Three coffees with milk, and bread with butter!”

Dito felt ravenous. Manguito mentioned Encravado's plan, saying he'd been asked to take part but didn't know what to do. “We could free up a lot of money!”

Dito listened quietly. Smokey stated his opinion: “Don't do it. I've heard a lotta guys who came out of it bad.”

But Manguito objected: “Encravado knows guys who are rolling in dough!”

“I think we can pull it off with no problem,” said Dito.

“From what he tells, he's rolling in it!” said Manguito.

“And what's the plan?”

“He hits on the woman, takes her to a hotel and then stiffs her.”

“And who pays for the hotel?”

“He does, man. When he is hard up for money, he goes to the street corner.”

“When a woman lowers her panties, she can't run ...,” Smokey laughed at his own joke.

“Do you know what this is called?” Dito asked. “Mugging!””So what? The one time they got me, I was booked for assault, and I hadn't done nothing.”

Dito asked for more bread, the waiter shouted the order again.

“In my group I don't want anyone doing this kind of thing.”

Manguito understood he shouldn't insist.

“If Encravado has gone crazy that's his problem.”

“I think that's right,” Manguito said. “To each his own.”