Childhood of the Dead (3 page)

When Dito woke up to his friends' talk, Smokey was asking about the train trip.

“Well, there is nothing hard about it, man. We find out the schedule and keep a low profile. Then we sneak through the platform and get in the restaurant car. That is the safest one. If we can't,” explains Dito further, “we look for a freight about to leave. That might even be better.”

Smokey smiled, Manguito spoke lewdly:

“What I worry about is how to spend the dough. Who knows, maybe Deborah will get us some girls?”

“Sao Paulo has lotsa girls. You only need cash. If this is your problem, I know a bunch of places.” Dito said.

Manguito was enticed.

“So, we can spend a whole day at a cat-house before coming back. What do you think?”

“May be,” Dito answered drily.

“What about me, how do I get in on this?” asked Smokey.

“You're a kid. You still smell of diapers. If you go to a real woman's house, she will put you in the crib.”

Dito thought this provocation funny. He looked at Smokey, knowing that he, himself, was not much older. At most he might be fourteen. To show off, Smokey talked about the intimacies he'd already had with a woman.

“She called me in to give me some clothes and then wanted something else. And do you think I wasted time?” he said, excited.

Manguito and Dito laughed again. They stayed under the bushes waiting for the day to cool off some.

“I think that from here we should look for a restaurant and get some hot food.”

“I'm gonna have me some black beans,” Manguito said.

“And we also have to buy jackets for the cold weather. Sao Paulo at night ain't easy.”

“If we buy clothes we'll spend almost all our money,” Smokey complained.

“We'll get more later in Sao Paulo. Didn't you hear Crystal say they owe us three hundred grand?”

“And a wool shirt should be cheap. We should buy it over by Alfa^ndega Street.”

“Then, I'll buy some shoes also. I'm tired of walking barefoot,” Smokey said.

They stood up and went down through the underbrush; later they got to a bus stop, where uniformed bus drivers stood joking, laughing.

“Where are we going now?” Manguito wanted to know.

“To the Chinaman. After lunch we stay around Paris Square or we go to a movie. If Smokey can't go in, he stays walking around while we watch the movie.”

Smokey didn't like the threat.

“You only have to look for a film I can see!”

“You can't go in barefoot,” Manguito explained.

“Then, let's buy clothes and shoes first.”

Dito smiled stroking Smokey's head. He wasn't very different from Pichote.

VII

After lunch they went for a walk. Whenever they arrived at a store salesmen would throw them out. Dito began to think they were taking too many risks, and so he sent Manguito and Smokey to wait for him at the street corner. He guessed his friends' sizes and bought them jackets. Seeing his money the salesclerk whistled loudly prompting the boys to come up from the sidewalk.

“Now you find a pair of shoes for this guy!”

“What size?”

“He has to try them on.”

The salesman was impatient. He didn't want Smokey to sit down where other people tried on shoes. He took the measurements carelessly, said that a 32 was okay. He went to the back of the store and returned with two boxes. Smokey chose the brown pair with wide shoelaces. Dito didn't think they should loiter around there: someone might call the juvenile court, telling on them. He pulled out one more bill and paid for the shoes. The salesclerk watched them as if wondering how they came to have money. Despite his dirty legs and wrinkled pants, Smokey put the shoes on immediately. He stomped out into the street and began to regret his notion of going around with shoes on.

Hours later they hid in a shattered warehouse. Tall weeds clustered around its gate, and a good part of its roof had no tiles. They checked again the little bags stitched to their britches. After initial discomfort, Dito had soon got used to them.

“Now, we scout the area. Each goes his own way, until we discover if there is a freight to Sao Paulo. If there ain't any, we'll have to catch a passenger train, tonight.”

“Won't the freight take too long?” Manguito wanted to know.

“It's all the same junk,” Dito answered. “If it leaves today, it'll only get there tomorrow. If the piece of crap doesn't break down.”

“But first, we should hide the clothes,” Manguito suggested.

“I'll stash my shoes,” said Smokey, taking his shoes off.

“You mean you spent the money but can't bring yourself to leave with them on?” Dito commented.

“I have to get used to them slowly.”

“Let's go. Be careful of wrong information. Or else, instead of Sao Paulo we'll end up in hell,” Dito warned.

Going one way until he found the tracks, Dito saw Manguito taking another direction and, further down, little Smokey. A freight was moving about, the railroad switchman switched the frog, some cars entered the sidetrack, the locomotive stopped, the frog was switched again; a black man with short pants and a greasy blue cap showed up and uncoupled the engine. The locomotive accelerated, leaving three cars behind. Dito wished to talk with this old man, but he knew that he'd only want to know why he was interested in the freight, and it could all end in a terrible mess.

He passed by a worker dressed in khakis and noticed the man had a crabby expression. Abruptly he asked where Dito thought he was going. Getting no answer, the man continued in an ill temper.

“This is not a place for punks!”

Dito wished to get an iron bar, to assail this useless, worthless crud, to club him to pieces. But he controlled himself. The worker continued to grouse. Dito made as if he didn't hear, climbing a pile of rails, coming down on the other side near the station. Then, when he saw a group of mechanics washing their hands and arms with gasoline, he had an idea. Why not approach them and ask? He would invent a story. He would say, his widowed mother lived alone in Sao Paulo, that he had come to Rio looking for work, to get money from a relative, but he ended up not finding him. Now, he had to return and had no money. That's why he was there, hoping to get a free ride on a train to Sao Paulo.

A black man observed him attentively. A fat white man laughed at his tale.

“I'm tired of that old story, boy. Keep moving.”

Dito didn't budge. The black man dried off his hands on rags, pointed toward a line of cars and two locomotives.

“I believe that train leaves before sundown. I think the engineer is a man called Evangelist. Go there. He might help you out.”

Seeing the mechanic's good will the others stopped laughing and joking. The boy went away, thanking him. He walked alongside the railcars and observed how high they were, the huge size of their steel wheels, bolted to enormously thick axles. There was no one in the locomotives, though one of them had its engines running. He went to the place where a pale thin man sold desserts from a tray covered by a white cloth; he sat down on the sidewalk, waiting for the engineer to appear. When Dito was eating a slice of manioc cake, he saw men walking toward the locomotive. He ran after them. All he needed to know was whether this was the train about to leave for Sao Paulo. The rest would be more or less easy to resolve. He ran the risk of getting the wrong information, but he had to chance it.

VIII

He sat on the wide sidewalk by the crumbling warehouse, sucking on hard milk candies, while he waited for Manguito and Smokey. After a while, he saw Smokey, running, his shirt flapping on his back. Dito offered him some candy when he arrived, but even before speaking, Smokey was already pointing in the direction of the train.

“That's the one going. I asked three guys.”

“They didn't suspect anything?”

“I don't think so. I said there was a man who wanted to know. He had a package to ship.”

Smokey laughed at his own imagination. Dito was even more pleased. He never thought that this boy could be so spirited. He himself had not been that clever.

“Then what did they say?”

“That's the train and it will leave right after sundown.”

“I was told that too.”

Manguito showed up, sat down. He was always tired. Any little run and his tongue would be hanging out.

“That one is the freight. The one with two engines.”

Dito was sure that was the train. So, he lay down on the large sidewalk, and stared at the disintegrating roof. Smokey whistled, counting the money again. Manguito dreamed about the girls he'd get to know and began talking trash.

“Have you humped a woman in your life, man?” Dito asked suddenly.

Manguito got stirred up. “Have I! And a good one too.”

“Where was this?” Smokey wanted to know, feeling somewhat suspicious and jealous.

“At the children's home. She was blind but delicious.”

Smokey laughed, still counting his money. “I bet she only went with you ‘cause she couldn't see your face.”

Manguito didn't like the joke. “Shut up, shrimp. When we go after girls in Sao Paulo we'll have to find a crib to leave you sleeping.”

“Hey dude, I'm a man,” Smokey said. “I can handle anything.”

Dito continued to observe the ceiling which threatened to fall, chuckling at Manguito and Smokey's jive. But by Smokey's answers he perceived the little black boy was brighter than he'd imagined. And because they were only talking trash, he began to tell them what to do in Sao Paulo.

“Over there we can't screw up. Any mistake and there will be a bunch of hawks all over us. First we try to find Deborah, at the Lavapés Street. We get the money and hit the road. We might spend an entire week doing nothing before looking for Crystal again. Then, I'm going back to that cemetery and close accounts.”

“I'm going also. Pichote was my friend,” Smokey said.

Dito lifted himself onto his elbows.

“This job is mine alone.”

“But who had the best idea to discover which train would go to Sao Paulo?” Smokey asked defiantly.

Dito laughed. He knew Smokey was right.

“OK. You can come.”

The station's lights were turned on, later the street lights, the lights at the public square seen in the distance, lights at some points in the road on posts, shining only on clumps of broad-leaf grass.

“I think it's time to split. Look alive, now, this is the real thing. I think it's better to go underneath the cars.”

Smokey put on his new jacket, Manguito tied his around the waist. Dito tucked his in his pants' waistband. They walked down the warehouse's wide sidewalk, mingled with the darkness that slowly erased the differences between grass clumps and heaps of tracks and sleepers.

Dito went ahead, followed by Manguito. They walked at first by the side of the cars, jumping at the end of the sleepers. When they saw the signalman's lantern, they tried to hide.

“Be careful with your head, Smokey. Don't hurt the train,” Manguito joked.

Dito told them to be quiet, and the march proceeded. Once in a while they came out from under, hoping to find one of the car doors open. But again, it was Smokey who discovered what they were searching for.

“On the other side there's a door open a bit. I think we can get in and open it more.”

“How do you know this?”

Smokey didn't answer. He came out from under the car again and showed them.

“Look!”

Dito was excited. Manguito joked.

“This imp has such sharp eyes . . . .”

Dito listened, concluding there was no one in the car. He examined whether the car could be locked from the outside. He helped Smokey climb, and the boy disappeared.

“It's dark as shit in here. I can't see nothing!”

Manguito asked Dito to open the door a little more. From an awkward position outside Dito strained. The heavy sliding door opened so they could squeeze in. Manguito thought it was dangerous to stay for a long time in the dark.

“I'm gonna buy cigarettes and matches.”

Dito thought this was a good idea.

“Don't let anyone see you coming in this direction. Go the long way around.”

Manguito jumped out of the wagon again, creeping in between piles of tracks, sleepers and grass clumps.

“What if the train leaves before he comes back?” Smokey asked.

“I don't think it will. When it's supposed to go the signal and lantern people will show up.”

A few minutes later Manguito came back. Besides cigarettes and matches, he'd brought a bag of sandwiches and candies.

“Hey man! That's cool. If you hadn't remembered this, we would die of hunger!”

Putting the sandwich bag aside, Dito tried to close the door as tightly as he could. A match was struck; the wagon was full of boxes. They could stay there for the entire trip without fear of being bothered.

“What if the freight goes to some other town before Sao Paulo?” Manguito asked.

Dito was free of worries now.

“We'll get down, we'll move to another car. There's no reason to get the jitters.”

Manguito passed out the sandwiches while Dito shared the hard milk candies he still had in his pockets.

* * *

CHAPTER TWO

I

Manguito found a place in a seat behind the bus driver. Smokey sat behind him and next to Dito. This was Smokey's first time in Sao Paulo. The crisscross of overpasses, the tunnels, the large avenues, all filled the boy with curiosity, and Dito answered his questions.

They got out in a street of old houses, where tall buildings were rare and where they saw Japanese people in almost all street corners and in bars. The street was dirty and the sidewalks had potholes. They went into a luncheonette where Dito paid for coffee with cream. Manguito asked for bread and butter. They chose a table and carried with them cups and a glass with coffee. Smokey laughed every time the Japanese at the cash register spoke with another behind the counter. He couldn't understand anything they said and he found that comical.

“Do you think we'll find Deborah?”

“If she's not there, we'll wait.”

Manguito kept on eating his bread.

“Are we still very far from her house?”

“I don't think so.”

The short, strong Japanese man, with a dirty towel tied over his belly began collecting the cups and the glass. The boys stood up and left. The day was somber, puddles in the sidewalks revealed it had rained the day before.

The boys passed by a large house being demolished, then by a salvage yard where a truck manoeuvered, and finally arrived at a small two-story building with workers on scaffoldings.

Dito spoke to one of the men, as Crystal had advised; the man stepped down some stairs and told them to follow him. They went through a long corridor. Dito had all his senses alert now, realizing how naive he'd been not anticipating this situation.

The stranger, covered in paint stains, had on old shoes and walked noisily on the worn hardwood floors. At his side, Manguito didn't seem to find anything disturbing. Smokey followed behind. The man pushed a door open. They saw some old chairs with ripped upholstery and grimy curtains. “Wait here a second. They'll come soon.”

The boys sat down and listened to the man's steps out in the corridor. Dito believed Smokey was scared. Manguito whispered, “I'm not liking this, man!”

Manguito looked down the corridor. Soon after, the three of them heard steps again. More than one were coming. Dito stood up and saw two women. The tallest and fattest had make up on and a professional-looking hairdo. She looked as if she had an evening gown on. She smiled widely, when she saw Dito.

“It was Crystal who sent you,” she said entering the room. “Welcome.”

She asked for details about the trip. But Dito, who wasn't disposed to disclose anything, went directly to the main topic.

“Crystal asked us to give you some things, and to get the rest of the money.”

The woman smiled again, asking for the goods. Manguito pointed to his trousers.

“They've been sewed here.”

“That's Crystal, always on the lookout,” she said. “Stay behind that curtain and give me the pants.” Celina, the other woman, pulled out the stitches.

Dito looked at the woman who had come in with Deborah. She was thin and very wrinkled, silent the whole time.

“He's the only one who has to stay behind the curtain,” Manguito said, smiling. “We have shorts on.”

“That's good. While Celina takes care of this, I'm going to get the money and call for coffee.”

Dito thanked her, Manguito did the same, but the woman didn't seem to hear them. She walked down the corridor, high heels clacking on the floor. Celina cut the stitches with a blade, returning Manguito's and Smokey's pants. Dito's was last. As he put his pants on, he felt one of the little bags had not been taken.

“You forgot one.”

“Deborah said to leave it. You'll deliver it someplace else.”

That wasn't in Crystal's agreement, but he his complaint would have to wait until the other woman reappeared. He couldn't resolve this with Celina who didn't appear to be in charge. She had simply followed Deborah, and she'd moved about the room as silent as a statue, cutting the threads sewn in by Crystal.

After Smokey put on his pants, Manguito teased him saying that if he didn't want to be embarrassed, he needed to buy some underwear. Dito heard all this joking about, but grew suspicious of Deborah's disappearance to get coffee. Celina had also gone away silently. Ten minutes had gone by and only then did Dito notice they'd taken the little bags. Even though the boys had heard no noise, at that moment a big fat and bearded man in a light colored suit and black tie showed up. He came in and locked the door. The boys ran to one side, Smokey hid behind the curtain. The man grabbed Dito by the arm, sat in a chair and jerked him.

“Let's talk, punk!”

Saying this he twisted Dito's arm. “Where is the cocaine?”

Dito was horrified. A wave of heat came over his body, his ears caught fire, his eyes burned as if he were about to cry.

“I don't know what you're talking about!”

“You know very well, you son of a whore!”

The huge man gave him the first blow. Manguito jumped on him, but was pushed aside with a kick. And twisting Dito's arm up behind his back, the stranger also grabbed Dito by the hair.

“Answer me, or I'll beat you to a pulp! If you loosen your tongue, things may improve.”

Dito didn't know what to do. He couldn't figure out if the guy was a cop or one of Deborah's dealer friends, who wanted to cut Crystal out of the deal. He was confused and stunned. His arm was being twisted more and his hair was being pulled out with each silent moment.

“Talk, punk, before I get mad.”

“I gave everything to Deborah,” he said almost crying.

“That's a lie, you dog! Don't bring the woman into your mess!”

With this, the man's attitude changed. He began to squeeze Dito by the neck, and when Manguito and Smokey tried to intercede, they were stepped on. Finally he pushed the boy onto one of the chairs. Dito was breathless. Smokey saw when the man opened the door and two other men came in. A tall, skinny man began to search Dito.

“Take his clothes off,” ordered the bearded man.

The short dark man pulled Dito by the legs onto the floor. His pants were pulled off, and the skinny guy searched them. When he found the little bag that Celina had left stitched on, his eyes lit up. He turned the pants inside out and showed it to the big man.

“Look!”

The dark guy opened a pocket knife in a key ring and cut the threads. The little bag ended up in the bearded man's hands. He smelled it and behaved as if he were examining a precious thing.

“Coke. Just as we suspected!”

II

Dito left the building crying with pain and anger. He wished to die. He had been so stupid! Why had he believed Crystal, a man he barely knew? Why had he believed Deborah when she said she would get the money and coffee? Why had he let Celina take away the goods, before they got paid? And who were those men? He was confused. Seldom had he felt this way, sad and defeated. He was still more distressed, listening to Smokey's low sobbing. How could his friends have believed in him, he, who let himself be caught like a little fish? It couldn't be. Crystal shouldn't have done that.

The VW bus had uncomfortable side seats. Dito needed to hold on to his seat with both hands. The car's interior was dark and he could barely see his friends' shadows.

“What a bitch that woman, hunh?” It was all Manguito said.

Smokey stopped sobbing.

“I'll bet they are taking us to juvenile court.”

Dito didn't know what to say. If that were so, it wouldn't be the worst case scenario. He feared worse complications.

After a lot of riding around, the VW bus's doors were opened. The men secured the three boys by the waist band of their pants. They took a few steps, went up a stairway, and walked into a large empty room. The big man took off his jacket, hung it on the mirror by the chair, rolled up his sleeves, and let his thick hairy arms and gold wrist watch show.

“Take them to the confession booth . . . .”

The men began pushing Dito. Now the boys knew they were at a police station, exactly what Dito had feared most. They went down an iron stairway, passed by two bathrooms reeking with urine, entered a windowless room brightened by a single large bulb. The only chairs were around the table.

“It's better to open your mouths soon. Dr. Mauro doesn't play around. He's already skint many a bad character, so you have no chance,” said the skinny man, with a cynical smile.

“Don't say that, man. The kids here have personality. That's the way I like to see them,” said the short dark man provocatively. “This one has the looks of a macho man,” he said and he tried to touch Dito, who avoided the intimacy.

The thin guy said the police chief was coming. Smokey felt a cold chill down his spine, Manguito got scared, and Dito knew then what was going to happen.

The door opened, the big man still had his sleeves up and had taken his tie off. He sat down, the skinny man shut the door, while the short man took a piece of garden hose from a drawer.

“I usually keep my promises. I promised a beating, and that's what you'll have. Unless you give me the name of the guy who gave you the cocaine. Let's begin with the smallest one.”

Smokey's eyes got round. The thin man pulled him close to the table.

“Where'd you find the cocaine?”

Smokey looked at Dito, then at Manguito, and shook his head. The dark man didn't wait any longer but gave him the first blow on his back, then he hit him in the chest, on the head and legs. He held Smokey with one hand and beat him with the other until the big man told him to stop.

“I don't want any screaming around here.”

The skinny man got a dirty napkin from the drawer, and gagged Smokey's mouth. The dark man smiled and resumed the beating.

“When you think it's time to stop, you talk,” the police chief said to Dito.

Smokey could no longer move. He was standing up only because the dark man held him by an arm. Dito knew they would kill Smokey, if he didn't talk.

“He had nothing to do with this. The deal was all mine,” he said to stop the beating.

“That's the way to talk,” said the police chief. “And who is the supplier?”

“A man called Crystal. He hangs around the Sao Joao slum, in Rio de Janeiro.”

The policeman's eyes brightened. He lit a cigarette.

“Don't tell me that you are interstate dealers.”

The skinny and short men also found the idea hilarious.

“And who are Crystal's contacts here in Sao Paulo?”

“Deborah!”

The police chief stood up awkwardly and punched Dito's face, sat down again, wiping his hand with a handkerchief.

“Don't lie to me. Don't you try to implicate that poor woman.”

“But Crystal ordered me to give the goods to her,” Dito said again.

The dark man clubbed him on the head with the garden hose.

“Didn't you hear the
doutor
say not to involve the woman? Are you deaf?”

The police chief passed his handkerchief over his face.

“I want to know who Crystal's contacts are here in Sao Paulo”

Dito had no idea of what to say, since the policeman didn't accept Deborah as one of the contacts.

“I don't know.”

“You don't know? See if you two can help the young man's imagination.”

The skinny guy tore off Dito's clothes. The dark one helped take off his underwear. Dito fought as he could but got a blow in the kidneys, and his underwear was ripped off.

“Look at what a big stick he has, chief!”

“Let's see if he is a real man.”

The skinny man got him by the hair, and put Dito's head in between his legs, while the dark strong man began the beating. The blows left red marks. Dito couldn't scream; each movement he made, the thin man squeezed his head. Suddenly, he released Dito, who fell to the floor. But the beating didn't stop until the police chief gave a signal. “And now? Who are Crystal's friends?”

Dito shook his head.

The policeman rummaged through a drawer.

“You do know. You will know!”

He found a ball of string and threw some handcuffs to the skinny man.

“Let's get going, Caramel. Make this guy sing. Like in the old days.”

The thin man smiled while he cuffed Dito's arms behind the back. His back was covered with blood and one of his eyes was very swollen. He tried to escape, but couldn't — unless he invented some senseless thing which the police chief would believe. But even then, he wouldn't know what would be right to say. He feared falling into a contradiction and screw things up.

Caramel doubled a long piece of string, then holding Dito's balls, tied them up and gave the string to Dr. Mauro.

“Do you know how to dance? If you don't you will learn.”

He gave the string a first tug, Dito trembled with pain. The policeman laughed, Big Purple pushed a chair in front of Dito. The string was tugged again, but Dito couldn't move anymore. Caramel caught him by the hair, so that Dito couldn't get close to the police chief's table. Later, Caramel got the garden hose and gagged his mouth with it. Big Purple helped pull the string, Dito's face turned red and tears fell down. When he was about to faint, the string was released and Caramel took the hose from his mouth. Dito fell seated. Big Purple came down next to him, and said in a friendly tone. “Come on, big boy. Give the name of the guys or you'll end up castrated!”

Dito couldn't stand it anymore. He had to invent something.

“One lives in Cambuci, two others in Bra's.”

“Is that true?” asked Dr. Mauro addressing Manguito this time.

He only nodded.

“And what's their name?”

Manguito was panicked.

“I know who they are, but I don't know their names.”

“If you go there would you show them to us?” insisted the police chief.