Childhood of the Dead

by Jose Louzeiro

  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.”

  “That’s why Zebra got screwed. Do you remember him? He tried to be a smartass and showed up riddled. Like Swiss cheese.”

  “All I know is, Encravado’s always got money. He’s gonna do this market thing — sell things in the street — because he’s our friend” said Manguito, showing loyalty to his friend.

  “I’m only saying this for his own good,” Dito remarked.

  While they ate, two men in white suits, with carnations in their lapels, came in with noisy women wearing heavy make up. They talked about the orchestra, and about the dance. Dito knew these were people just leaving the cabarets. Smokey observed the man with a wrinkled face and red eyes. The woman with him was white and beautiful. She passed her arms around his shoulders and kissed him. The waiter stood at their service. The red-eyed man said in a slurred voice, “I’m gonna make the night last . . . .” And addressing the waiter, he said, “A double cognac.”

  “For me too,” said the woman.

  The other man hadn’t decided yet and the women didn’t stop talking. The waiter knew that this would be a long session, so with their consent he pushed the tables together. Dito used this time to pay and the boys left silently.

  IV

  “Look at the size of this cave!” Dito observed.

  Manguito whistled, stepping under some rocks; Smokey’s eyes widened. Dito went ahead, reaching a passageway obstructed by a granite block.

  “Squeezing up, we can pass.”

  “I can get in easy,” Smokey said.

  “It ain’t too bad for me neither,” said Manguito.

  “But a cop can’t,” Dito remarked.

  “Jeez, it’s so dark here!” Manguito observed.

  They went to the end of the gallery, which ended in a culvert.

  “We’ll have to work right here. We gotta to dig till we make a passage. Later on we can hide it with a bush.”

  “It’s the best house I’ve ever seen,” said Smokey.

  “We can sleep safe here. Better than a rooming house. If some jerk shows up or gives us a hard time, we can escape by the tube.”

  “At the entrance we can put a big stone for a door.”

  “Great,” said Manguito.

  “We oughta be able to stay here begining tomorrow. It’s big enough for everyone,” Dito observed.

  Saying this, he took off his shirt, and began to shove the smallest stones to the outside. Manguito wanted to help but Dito didn’t accept it.

  “Go to the square and keep an eye on everybody. Tell them to get over here after their day at the market is done. I’m sure that Pin and Encravado will like it.”

  Smokey found an iron stake and showed it to Dito.

  “We can use this to break that stone.”

  “No way! It’ll take a steel chisel and a good hammer.”

  “We can lift ‘em at a building site or maybe even buy ‘em.”

  Dito sensed the boy’s enthusiasm. This was the first time they’d have a real home. He didn’t say it, but he even thought of buying mattresses to put over some dry hay. Then, he could sleep as he hadn’t in years!

  After removing the stones, they needed to find some driftwood planks along the beach to help level the sandy floor. Dito couldn’t remember anymore how it felt to live in a home. He could remember the long time he spent sleeping underneath the broken bus on a dead end street; the public square benches; the bus station; the staircase in the building whose windows were falling out. He also remembered his anger that night he searched for shelter, in a fine drizzle when, a woman with a big ass offered him a toy, telling him it was Christmas. She asked him to choose from among the little plastic cars the one he liked the most. He knocked her basket over hard, the toys all fell on to the wet
pavement. The woman began to call him an insolent punk, even ran a bit to try to get him but failed. Passersby were filled with compassion for the woman, and a strong young man leaped after Dito, shoving him hard. In the meantime, the woman gathered up her toys and shouted.

  “You can see how despicable they are. A person bothers to come here to do some good and look at what happens! My husband was right. He thinks I’m very stupid!”

  When the policemen arrived and the woman began to gesticulate, pointing in his direction, Dito fled.

  That cave would become his home. With time, who knows, he could have a table, cans to keep food in, an alcohol stove. If they didn’t like the idea, they could get lost. He could hardly count on Mother’s Scourge or even Encravado’s help. But Brown Sugar and Figurinha would stay by him. He had no doubt.

  He spent the entire morning cleaning out the cave. Covered in sweat, he asked Smokey if he didn’t want to swim some, while Manguito checked out the market. After the swim he counted the money. There was enough. There was no need to rush.

  Hiking up over the stones, in front of a flower garden, Smokey saw Encravado. He was on the other side of the high speed traffic lanes, waving his arms. He was cupping his hands around his mouth shouting, but Dito couldn’t hear. He hurried over. They didn’t even wait for the traffic to slow down.

  “They caught Manguito. I didn’t see how it happened. Some plain clothes cops. One of those who got in the car looked like Crystal. I ran after the car to get a better look and I really do think it was him.”

  “Where’d they go?”

  “To juvenile court, I think.”

  “In what direction?”

  “Through Mem de Sa’.”

  At a loss for a moment, Dito didn’t know what to say. He knew what they would do to Manguito until he spilled his guts.

  “We have to take care. We can’t stay in the cave anymore. Manguito won’t be able to take it without breaking.”

  “Why don’t we look for Crystal?”

  “I’ll go also. Seeing him up close, I’ll know if he was the one with the pigs.”

  Dito was sure it was Crystal. He’d been naive to think that he could escape. They don’t give up. He had to keep himself on the lookout. One slip would be enough for what happened to Manguito to be repeated. It was always like that. Crystal had, in fact, ordered Dito’s death. Saying nothing to his friends, Dito realized that, before a hammer and a chisel, what he would have to buy was a knife. It’d been stupid to think of a place to live without first doing away with Crystal.

  He hadn’t been able to guess the motives behind Crystal’s plans. He had met Crystal sometime ago in Sao Paulo, at the Arouche Square. While drinking beer, he had watched Dito sell little porno magazines. Later, he had asked Dito to sit down at his table and when the waiter showed up to complain, Crystal told him not to bother. Dito had never received so much attention. At first he thought the guy was gay. Then he noticed that he was no sissy and that he was quite smart. He wanted to get Dito involved in a deal that could only begin in Rio de Janeiro. And that same afternoon he promised to meet Dito and drive him around in a car. He kept his word. He picked Dito up, and the two went for a ride, Crystal talking about nice things such as he had never heard. The car was a new Galaxy, plushly upholstered, with a cassette playing soft music. The city was soon left behind. Crystal had straight well-combed hair and a white shirt, white on white with the cuffs carefully folded back, a watch on one arm, on the other a silver ID bracelet. Once in while he pressed a lighter on the dashboard, the button remaining sunk in until it warmed up and clicked. He would then take the lighter and touch it to his cigarette. Dito was amazed! He also offered Dito a cigarette. Dito had never been treated so nicely. After a few quiet moments Crystal talked, chatted, saud he was getting older and had to find himself a suitable substitute.

  “I’ve been in your shoes,” he said and stared at Dito through expressionless eyes set in lightly purpled eyelids. “What saved me was this.” He’d pointed to his head. “This is what puts a man ahead of losers. From what I saw at the bar, you’re a smart kid. You can go far. How old are you?” After Dito told him, he continued, “at your age I also didn’t know very well what I was gonna do. Until the day opportunity knocked. Each person is born under a star. Mine shone that day.” The man looked far off, as if remembering. “And I didn’t waste time. I jumped in with both feet. No indecisions. Today here I am. I’m not rich, but I have enough to live on.

  “What do I have to do?”

  “Come sometimes to Sao Paulo and then return to Rio. Travel and earn a lot of money.”

  Dito had smiled. He doubted there could be something that good for him. At any rate, that didn’t seem to be the best moment to discuss his doubts. He preferred to let the guy talk; to observe his hands, his polished nails, his creased pants and white shoes and socks.

  After about a two-hour trip the man manoeuvered through a detour, and took the road to the gas station. He got out, Dito followed him. He was neither tall nor short, he had a kind- hearted manner of speaking, and called everyone friend. An attendant took off the gastank cap, another threw water at the windshield. Crystal wasn’t concerned with topping off the car; he told them to check the tire air pressure, especially in the front tires. He put his arm around Dito’s shoulder, and they went to the bar. He asked for a shot of cognac and a Coca-Cola. Besides the soda he told Dito to choose a sandwich or a sweet.

  “Go on, eat up, ‘cause we still have a lot of road ahead of us.”

  Dito accepted the grilled ham and cheese, for he had not had lunch. He had liked being with this stranger, who talked to him about everything, and who gave him a vision of a grand future. He even got the feeling that just one step, one movement, was enough for him to leave his misery behind and become an important person like Crystal. Crystal pulled out from his pocket a wallet full of large bills. Dito also saw credit cards and check books in the glove compartment. He was certainly an important man, who knew what he was doing. And Dito thought he was lucky to have fallen into his good graces.On the road again the Galaxy rolled so smoothly that Dito couldn’t hear the engine. When he became important, this would be the car he would have. He would take long trips, just to check out the car’s performance. By afternoon’s end, after the intense sun shine waned, they were still far from Rio. Dito thought this had been the happiest day of his life. From as far back as he could remember, he couldn’t recall anything like it, nor a person who had treated him with such kindness. There was no doubt Crystal was his friend. Otherwise he wouldn’t be doing all that. Even if the work were difficult, it would be worthwhile staying with him.

  V

  Walking side by side, Dito listened to Encravado’s description of Manguito’s arrest.

  “I think he was sleeping. I saw the police car come up to the sidewalk, and Manguito didn’t do nothing!”

  “How could he have known?” Smokey argued.

  “I dunno. I’m smart. I don’t walk in the streets with my eyes closed.”

  “What do you think we should do?” asked Encravado.

  “I’m gonna speak with Crystal, for him to find a way for Manguito to escape. Later we’ll take care of Crystal,” said Dito.

  They went up Assembléia Street. While Smokey kidded around, Encravado lagged behind to look in the store windows, and Dito considered whether to take the bus now or later. He was sure of one thing: he could not go talk with Crystal up in the slum without a weapon. It was possible that Crystal didn’t give a damn about Manguito’s booking; in which case Dito would have to kill him. There was no reason to wait. And, this time, would Crystal be alone to receive Dito or very well protected? His thoughts were confused. What if they tried to find out where Crystal lived? It might be possible to surprise him. But either way he would have to go into the slum. He wouldn’t go directly to the bar. He would bide his time, play around with kids, check the place out. If he found Brown Sugar or Pin everything would be simpler. They could help locate Crystal. Otherwis
e he would have to go back to Sao Paulo. What he couldn’t do was to leave Manguito in the hands of the police.

  In Tiradentes Square, Encravado asked him if he didn’t want to take a bus going through the slum’s edge. Dito had imagined going alone, but ended up accepting the idea.

  “When we get there we must stay apart, at least while we find the guy. If there is a problem, we send bullets in his direction,” said Encravado squeezing his pocket and showing the small volume of a 32. “Look! This never fails to fire!”

  “Who sold it to you?” Smokey wanted to know.

  “Some dude in Lapa who was desperate.”

  “When we get close by I want you to lend it to me. I also wanna buy one,” said Dito.

  “If you want to do this job with this one, there’s no problem. I’ll find the guy and get me another one.”

  “Okay. Done. I’ll give you the money in the bus.”

  Dito paid for the bus tickets and sat down next to Encravado, who pulled the gun from his pocket. It was nickle- plated and wrapped in plastic.

  “It’s brand new!”

  They got out close to some skyscrapers, in between which there was a narrow and steep climb, and they went up.

  “It’s much closer through the cemetery,” Smokey complained.

  “But it’s safer here. Have you forgotten Pichote?”Dito walked, feeling the gun in his pocket. He didn’t know why, that gave him a sense of security. They stopped once when Smokey went ahead to see if the snitches and dealers who charged a pedestrian toll were around. He disappeared in an alley but returned soon, with a smile, his eyes shining.

  “The coast is clear. No one to bother us.”

  VI

  Dito approached the mini-market. A few kids played outside, a pig rooted around dirty drain pipes, a woman sang while hanging out clothes on a fence. The slum was calm, the sun was hot and sultry. An old man dressed only in pants sitting at the door of his shack carved with a shoemaker’s knife soles for his sandals. Dito entered the pool room: no one was there. A man with strong arms, bent over the thin planked counter and asked what he wanted. Dito remained quiet for a while, then he realized there was nothing he could do but ask.