Childhood of the Dead Read Free Page B

would try to see your travel permit and they’d end up taking you to juvenile court. The route for you is the train. Unless you can get a ride, which is just as dangerous.”
    â€œYou can leave it to us. You don’t need to worry about this,” Dito said a bit fed up with Crystal’s anxiety over petty details.
    By the time Crystal finished sewing the bags into Dito’s pants, Smokey remembered having to return via the cemetery, because Crystal himself argued that it would be dangerous to go back past the snitches again. Soon after, he showed the money, almost all in thousand cruzeiro bills.
    â€œLook,” he said, “if something happens because you don’t do it right, it’s your problem. For all intents and purposes I know nothing. That’s why you can’t be too careful. And don’t get yourself in a mess.”
    Manguito appeared cheerful, while Crystal proceeded with his admonition. Dito’s interest picked up only when he heard threatening words.
    â€œAny fuck up will cost you. Get the picture: you’re not working only for me. There’s a lot of people in the organization. You can have a great life or be done away with.”
    V
    â€œSo, how did this happen, Seu Galego?” Dr. Alencar wanted to know.
    The man was white and nearly bald. His colleague, whose nickname was Big Jet, was seated. He had muscular arms and didn’t seem disturbed by his superior’s worries.
    â€œLook, boss,” Galego said, “we’ve done what we should have done long ago. Have you noticed how these punks are about to drive us all nuts? The other day they ruined a whole tomb. They took away the crosses and even the metal inscription. That’s why I followed the orders to a tee. I wasn’t going to hit the little fucker, but then the shot went wild.”
    â€œAnd now, what do you think should be done?”
    â€œVery simple, doutor ,” Big Jet said. “We put the punk in a hole and that’s it.”
    â€œI don’t believe it’s that simple,” Dr. Alencar remarked.
    â€œThese kids are all abandoned in the world, doutor . I doubt somebody will show up to complain,” Galego said.
    The telephone rang, the supervisor answered and said Dr. Alencar was in a meeting.
    â€œWhat if tomorrow you two have a fight and decide to squeal?” the manager challenged.
    â€œTalk about this? Us? Cut it out, doutor ,” Big Jet said smiling.
    â€œIf you like, we’ll bury the punk later. Over there where he died.”
    The manager stood up, and poured some coffee in his cup.
    â€œIt’s already been taken care of, but you must keep quiet. I want this to be kept secret, or I’ll have to take it up with the proper authorities. That wouldn’t be good for me, but it would be much worse for you two.”
    Shrugging his shoulders with indifference, Big Jet stood up waiting for his colleague who was still listening to Dr. Alencar’s concerns. Not knowing why he asked, Big Jet posed his supervisor a question just as challenging.
    â€œFrom now on should we do as we did, or should we let that bunch of delinquents take over the cemetery?”
    Dr. Alencar winked, then smiled. The custodian understood well what that meant.
    VI
    Dito, Manguito and Smokey veered in a wide turn around the slum, finally leaving by the side far from where they’d entered. Dito couldn’t forget Pichote, his words, his gestures, his baby- toothed smile. At times, he felt responsible for his death. Had he imagined another plan, Pichote could still be alive. But he also knew he did all he could to protect him. He couldn’t have remained there, without reacting, waiting for the caretakers to come and kill them. The mistake had been to go through the cemetery, in the first place, to fear a confrontation with the snitches. Smokey was also sad. Manguito was the only one who appeared reconciled to the loss.
    â€œIt happened. What can we