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Authors: Jose Louzeiro,translated by Ladyce Pompeo de Barros

Tags: #FIC037000 FICTION / Political

Childhood of the Dead (19 page)

BOOK: Childhood of the Dead
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“The ones who have fallen inside have to be brought outside,” The police chief announced.

The guards began pulling out those who had fainted. The guards themselves didn't understand the order. The little group was put standing up, led by Uncle Zé who was limping.

“I don't want anyone getting fat in my police quarters. They will all go to cell 96.”

The jailor walked ahead, some guards behind him, then the prisoner, followed by other guards and the dogs. Dito had no idea what else could happen. The cell was square with cement walls, it had a sink and the Turkish toilet. There were no beds, nor newspapers to cover the floor.

“Here you'll turn to seed,” the jailor said, “Dr. Mauro had a eye out for you guys.”

Listening to the guy talk Uncle Zé thought for a second he was a lunatic. But he said nothing. Cleaner wiped his face with the back of his hand. Gabriel couldn't stand his pains and Dito was still bleeding through the nose. But he felt lucky: he was the one who'd received fewest blows throughout the session.

At lunch time the guards passed through the gallery with food, but they didn't stop at cell 96. “This group is in quarantine. They ate too much,” they said, and continued pushing the cart and laughing. Cleaner knew they would make it all more difficult; Gabriel only coughed, no longer hungry. At the end of the day, Dito began to think of ways to escape. He looked around for something to open the door lock, but didn't find anything. He tried to imagine some situation that could attract the jailor to the cell, but he couldn't come up with a way to do so.

Dito's stomach was howling with hunger. As night began to fall he noticed that cell 96 was much hotter than 152. Cleaner sat with his back to the wall and recounted the fight he had with the big man, “I can't believe I'm still in shape!”

Uncle Zé smiled vaguely and Dito had nothing to say. Gabriel was coughing covering his mouth so as not to bother his cell mates.

“They are planning to do something awful to us.” Uncle Zé said.

“That's all they ever do.”

Much later, when the prison had been silent for a long time, they heard steps in the gallery. They put their backs to the walls. Policemen came with lanterns and trained dogs. One of them called out the numbers, as they approached the doors.

“Let's go. The trip will be long.”

They focused their lights on the prisoners. Dito's number was called and soon he felt the dogs next to his legs. No one said a word until they got to a police van. A short, strong men, who had his shirt out of his pants, opened the door. Dito noticed there were others in the car. Gabriel continued to cough. The car move off fast, tires screaming against the asphalt. After about an hour, it stopped. At that point there were guards with machine guns in hand showing them the way to a bus.

“That way, scum!” The man with the loose shirt shouted.

A sort of line was formed and Dito could see then a bunch of young man. He could see only a few that were about his age; others were much younger, like Pichote and Smokey. The oldest ones were about Gabriel's age. He had no idea where they were taking him. He imagined it might be a prison farm, like the one he had been at in Rio. But why worry? They couldn't be sending the bus to a good place.

It was his turn to get in. Gabriel had already been pushed to the front. He continued to cough and that had been irritating the guards. One of them had shouted for him to stop that. It was a regular bus, but the windows were covered with curtains and the guards who had been watching over them had already warned: “The first one to open the curtains will get beaten.”

That's why no one dared to move them. Some dogs had also climbed on the bus. Some of the guards who were in the back of the bus talked and laughed loudly. Some told jokes. The bus driver shut the door that separated his driving seat from the rest of the bus. The engine was turned on and the bus moved. Though Dito knew Sao Paulo well, he had no idea of where they could be. He tried to find Gabriel but he couldn't see him; he only heard his cough. In the seat in front of his there were three boys whose ages were approximately 6,8 and 12. They were very quiet and looked very scared with such trip at that time of the day. Dito was sure that all of them had been in the prison cells of Dr. Mauro's precinct, just as he and Gabriel had been pulled for this trip.

When they had already been riding for a long time, Dito noticed it was raining. The bus had slowed down and was crossing a flooded area. The water reached the bottom of the bus chassis, the engine complained, the tires were sliding and for the first time Dito felt the drops of water, from the storm, beat against the window glass. Strong winds invaded the bus when one of the guards opened the door to speak with the driver and Dito's curtain moved briefly. He saw only some solitary and distant lights. Then, as if they had been able to go back to an asphalted road, the speed of the bus increased. Even so, it was possible to notice that the rain had become even more intense.

One of the boys from the seat ahead said something. Only the other two could hear him. The youngest one turned to look back. He looked a little bit like Pichote, and he was very scared. The one who travelled next to Dito was also a quiet type, a black boy of about 16. Dito had not paid attention to him yet, but now, seeing him better, he noticed that he cried silently.

“What's the matter?”

The young man would only shake his head, without answering.

“Where are they taking us?”

He cleaned his eyes and Dito saw his hands wounded, as if he had grabbed something and had been pulled from it violently. He spoke very low.

“They are gonna kill us.”

Dito relaxed back into his chair. He should have imagined something like that. It would be much worse than the prison farm.

* * *

CHAPTER SEVEN

I

Considering the engine noise, the bus had to be climbing a steep road. Gabriel was still coughing, while some boy Dito wasn't able to see began to laugh nervously. The policemen in the back of the bus started joking and one of the dogs appeared very agitated.

The door between the driver from the rest of the bus opened again. From the front cabin the short and strong man with his shirt out of his pants emerged rubbing his hands, warming himself up. It was cold.

“We're almost there,” he said to the policemen holding the dogs.

“Are we still going to make another trip today?”

Dito couldn't see who had asked, but he understood, then, that it was a kind of regular program. They wouldn't be the only ones expelled from the planet. There were many people on the list. Then, for no apparent reason, he remembered Uncle Zé, his patience and tranquil face, his hands holding the can with warm water to clean his wounds. And beside Uncle Zé, he saw also the image of Mother Dolores, her voice, her sad eyes and kind features.

“It's Yemanja, who protects us, son. Think always about her.”

Dito remembered the image of Yemanja on the wall where Smokey spent the night in his coffin, surrounded by candles and by the silence of those heavily made up women, while the sweaty black man beated smoothly the
atabaque
drum singing a sad song.

He felt his courage come back thinking about Mother Dolores. He wasn't going to let things get to him like the kid seated at his side had done. He would neither open his mouth, nor act as if he were weak. The important thing, until the bus stopped, was to imagine an escape plan. The best opportunity would be at the time to get out. He would jump out, no matter the consequences. If they were slow in catching him he would disappear into the night. He doubted very much that some dog would get him. What if they handcuffed them on before they were to leave the bus? That, he feared. Then, it would be very difficult to escape.

The bus shook all over, shock absorbers banged the frame as the wheels went into potholes splashing lots of water. There was no doubt they were leaving behind the main road. They were taking a shortcut, or something like that. The galloping went on for a good half hour until the brakes were applied and the driver's cabin door was opened and closed several times. New guards, whom Dito had not seen before, had come in. They were big and were covered in a plastic capes. They all had hats of the same material as the capes or they were wearing wool hats. Cold wind invaded the bus, and Gabriel had another bout with coughing. The cop with his shirt in the outside of his pants was very agitated, saying:

“Now, scumbags, take your clothes off. Where you're going, you won't need them.”

His order was not immediately followed. Some of the caped police caught several boys and began tearing off their clothes. They pulled the fabric from pockets and the ripping textile made a squirming sound as they were pulled apart. The boys who attempted to resist were pulled out of their seats and were slapped in their faces.

“Let's go, you sons of bitches! No special privileges here!” the same man continued to shout.

Dito rushed to take off his clothes before they caught him. After a couple of minutes the policemen with capes and hats began to back up to the driver's cabin. The back door also opened, while the man with his shirt out of his pants, continued to shout and clap his hands. He was close to the police in the back of the bus.

“Let's do, scumbags. Everyone is going to leave here with one jump. You've already warmed up too many spaces!”

One of the boys tried to escape and he was caught by policemen who began to beat him up and threw him over the seats. That was just the signal for the dogs to attack. Great confusion reigned for the next few moments. There were boys shouting everywhere, trying to escape, some trying to climb up the seats, others holding on to one another, the vast majority trying to face up to the dogs who jumped from one side to another, above and in between the seats. Dito was soon bitten on his arm; even so, he was able to push the dog away with his feet. The policeman close by hit Dito on the head with a nightstick. Dito lost his senses for a moment, but came to and discovered that the best way was to lay down quietly on the bus floor while the confusion lasted. There was a great melee of sounds between the high pitched shouts of the boys, the dogs barking and the man shouting orders.

In the tumult the first boys rolled through the door, out of the bus. The policemen were already awaiting them and continued to beat and kick them. The few who tried to escape by going around the bus had their arms twisted, received blows in the face and were pushed off the side of the road. Dito couldn't understand exactly what was taking place. He kept just dragging his body on the bus floor. He was already covered with footprints, when a dog bit him on the leg. A policeman caught Dito by the neck and pulled him up to the door. From there he pushed him with his foot. Dito felt the earth give way beneath his feet. The night was dark. The first sprigs of grass that passed by his body and by his face at a fainting speed, appeared to him to be cold. As he covered some distance, he lost consciousness, just as if he were diving looking for the depths of a river. He didn't feel anything, because he suddenly fell asleep and everything was definitely distant and silent. He didn't see his travelling companions, he didn't feel the dogs' bites, he no longer heard the orders from the man with his shirt out of his pants.

When he felt the cold on his feet, he imagined he was asleep in a public bench, the same one he had always taken in Glo'ria. He remembered his work at the market, Pin pushing his cart, the basket he had carried for the demanding housewives who stopped everywhere discussing the prices of things with the vendors. He opened his eyes only to discover he was not at the bench nor was he in prison. He touched his body. His head felt as if it were very big. He couldn't perceive very well what had happened. He tried to keep his eyes open and felt the smell of wet soil in his nostrils. He discovered he could move one of his arms, and a little bit of his body. Then, slowly, it appeared that his pains were also waking up with him, both in his face and arms as well as in his legs. He remembered the bus that had been crowded with boys and had parked somewhere around there, so they could be thrown away. He remembered the dogs jumping, biting indiscriminately, biting Gabriel's face. He remembered the boy being thrown over the seats, and the shouts because he had fractured his spine, while the policeman kicked him to stop the crying and to stand him up.

The pain was stronger in his right leg. He thought he might have broken the other one, and that's why he wasn't feeling any pain yet. He tried to move it slowly, and to his surprise it was intact. All he needed to do now was to stand up. He moved a little and rolled several feet more down the cliff. Only then did he realize they had been thrown down a mountain side. He had, evidently, got stuck on some bush and not rolled on down to the bottom.

It was still raining and dawn approached. Dito remembered what had happened, in every detail. He hadn't forgotten the incident of the tearing of the clothes, nor the dog biting Gabriel's face. Where would he be now? Where would the three little boys be, the ones who travelled in the seat in front of his? Where would the one who looked so much like Pichote be?

He grabbed onto some bushes, aware now that the bite he had on his leg hurt and that his arms, scraped by the underbush, burned like fire. He would try to go down to the bottom of the cliff. A great number of them should be there. Holding on to whatever was available, he went down until he found the first bodies. Some were hanging from tree trunks that had been cut by lumber jacks, others had fallen on stones. A little more and he would be at the bottom of the hill. He went around a big stone and found other companions. On the side, where there was a flat plane, some were already trying to stand up. He approached them. One whose arms had been dislocated was in great pain. Another one, who had a broken leg, only moaned. A little blond boy had been bit on the back and he was bleeding. A black boy had one arm broken. A strong young man had a wound in the head. Dito couldn't stand dragging himself around so much moaning. Then, behind a thick leaf bush he heard Gabriel's cough. He was lying there with a cut in his chest, one eye shut and his face very swollen.

“Let's go, friend. I'm gonna help everybody leave this place.”

“How many survived?”

“I don't know.... But there's a lot who can at least stand up.”

“Do you think they'll come back?””I don't think so,” Dito said.

“If I can't get up, can't you do me a favor?”

Dito could hardly believe his ears, and his eyes filled with tears.

“Will you do it, man?”

Dito nodded.

Gabriel looked around in the grass, searching for something, “It must be here. I had it in my hand when I fell down.”

“What is it?”

“It's a pocket knife. Would you cut my wrist with it?”

Dito din't know what to say. Gabriel's hand continued impatiently looking for the knife, feeling among grass tufts all around.

“You promise me this favor?”

Dito agreed, tears running down his painfully tired face.

“Then help me find the knife. I won't be able to go back up the mountain.”

“You can be cured, man!”

Gabriel opened his arms and just smiled, “You're kidding, man. I'll just stay around here.”

Dito crawled searching for the pocket knife.

“If you can't find it, get me a piece of glass.”

II

Gabriel extended his arm to Dito. The piece of glass was a little larger than a fingernail. It was the only thing Dito could find. Gabriel prepared himself for the pain. He had always had fear of shots, and he imagined this would be no different. But, it had to be done. He couldn't just stay alone there, when all who could move would have gone on. He didn't want to think about Dito's cutting his veins. Perhaps the first cut would not be enough, but he knew the boy had the guts to try another one. He would only have to withstand the pain. He twisted his face in pain, moaned, and then calmed down. Dito released his arm and stayed there for some seconds looking at him. The blood drained, dripping over grass leaves. Gabriel smiled again, his eyes appeared sleepy. Dito knew he had been right. He would not have been able to go up the mountainside. He would have been an extra burden. And the sickness that was rotting him away from the inside — it would have been foolish to have insisted on anything different with Gabriel. He had chosen the best way out. There was no doubt. He stood up and walked towards the moans he could hear. He gave Gabriel one last look. There was daylight. The rain beating on his face was now stronger.

He went back to the flat landing, and there he found some other boys. One of them, a blond one, said that there were three or four others who were trying to go up the mountain. Dito shouted for them to come back.

“We have to go together, or we'll be caught again!”

The small boys began to show up, among them one who travelled in the seat in front of his.

“Who is better off?”

“I only had a scratch on my back,” the boy said. “I can help.”

“First we must see who is unconscious.”

They began searching among all the bodies. Dito had been right. With a few light touches, some who appeared as if sleeping did wake up. But for many there was nothing else that could be done. They would just stay there like Gabriel. Among them was the black boy who had travelled at his side crying quietly.

They gathered at the bottom of the cliff and Dito explained what to do to reach the road.

“We don't climb in a straight line. We weave back and forth, not to tire ourselves.”

Then, five other boys showed up. One of them had his face nearly deformed by the beating he had received.

“When we get to the road, we look for transportation. There must be a town close by.”As soon as the climb began the rain became even stronger. Dito tried to secure his footing, but often he would just slide back.

“Careful! No one should roll back down again!”

One of the boys fell and couldn't bold on to the bushes. He somersaulted three or four times. Dito went to help him. The boy had now several new cuts on his body, but he would continue to try. He wasn't going to give up easily. Dito knew it. He looked back and saw at least one half of the boys were there. When they found larger bushes, they were able to get firmer footing, holding on to thicker branches and the climb became easier. One by one they arrived at the road. At that time it was deserted. A long black strip, the shiny road, reflected on its surface the eucalyptus trees and disappeared in a foggy hillside.

“Where are we?” A little boy wanted to know.

“Anywhere, man. Why would it matter?” A dark haired boy answered nervously, his face covered with scratches.

“Let's go to the shoulder on the other side of the road.”

They crossed the road. They were about fifty boys, Dito looked as if he might be the oldest. They were all naked, bleeding, hungry and cold.

They had been walking for about twenty minutes when Dito saw a gas station sign.

“Before we get there, gang, let's grab some sticks and any iron bar we might find. We'll invade the place and break anything we find.”

They went back to the woods, this time looking for sticks and iron bars, parts of any old car or a truck. Now, whoever saw them would have the impression that they were a bunch of lunatics, armed with wooden sticks.

The gas station had its lights on. Dito told the group to go around the back to the office. There were only two employees at work at that time. At the office's side and in front of the pumps was the restaurant, still closed. They advanced cautiously, almost dragging themselves on the soil. It was still raining. One of the men warmed himself up by keeping his heavy raincoat on while snoozing close to the office's door; the other was cleaning the windshield of an old Willys van. They had no customers. Cars passing by were probably rare. The kids by now were very close to the restaurant's door. Dito tried to open the door, but it was locked. He shoved it with his shoulder and the glass door clicked, and the glass panes broke. The man woke up in a flash, calling for his colleague and they ran toward the boys. The kids had invaded the restaurant, the big kids faced up to the gas station employees with sticks and stones. Dito grabbed hold of one of them by his shirt.

BOOK: Childhood of the Dead
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