Childhood of the Dead

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Childhood of the Dead Page 23

by Jose Louzeiro


  Though he tried to absorb all the details on this floor, he was at a loss on how to proceed. He decided to go up another flight of stairs but soon realized that it was not part of the supermarket anymore. Doors with small signs indicated a floor devoted to small businesses and doctors’ and dentists’ offices. He returned to the bathroom on the fourth floor, noticed they were large and that their doors had keys. He took and kept them, after making sure they locked the doors. This was the first sign he had that things might work out. He went down the stairs to the ground level. Zé Ina’cio had been impatiently waiting for him; and as soon as they left the building, Dito began explaining the plan’s possibilities to his friend.

  “We’ll make a drawing when we gwt to your parking lot,” Dito said.

  “You think they keep the money there?”

  “I saw the guy counting a pile of cash,” Dito explained.

  “And what would be the best day?”

  “Maybe Thursday?”

  “Why Thursday?”

  “I don’t know,” Dito argued, “this we can decide later.”

  “I think it a good idea to go back there again and again.

  “That’s what we’ll do. But what I’m thinking of is how to get inside that office.”

  “How, man? Are you crazy?”

  Dito smiled. “The bunch of dough the fat man was counting would let us take a vacation for several years.”

  Zé Ina’cio felt more attracted to the plan now. It was true he wouldn’t amount to much by parking and washing cars. Dito was right about it. And since it was possible he might meet that woman again, how could he impress her if he didn’t have any money? If the plan worked, it would be different. He would invite her to come to a hotel with him, and then she would know he had money, that he wasn’t just a helpless case.

  Dito began to scribble on a paper. He drew the stairway, and the bathroom doors. Then, he had an idea he thought was important:

  “Depending on the time the office closes, we can wait for the attack in the bathroom.”

  Zé Ina’cio didn’t venture any opinion, for he had never been good at thinking.

  “Another idea is for us to open one of the offices in the fifth floor, using a lockpick. We lock the people in the bathroom and then wait in an office, until the entire affair is over. Then we go to the top floor and jump to the neighbouring building.”

  Dito wasn’t sure whether the next building was built attached or separated from the manager’s office building.

  “Do you remember if they are next to each other?”

  An imported car arrived at the parking lot. Hat stood up to give instructions to the driver, Zé Ina’cio kept looking at the car as his thoughts wandered from the new car, to the woman in panties, and to the supermarket adventure.

  “While everyone is looking for us, we’re gonna be only a few feet from the office.”

  Zé Ina’cio smiled nervously. “It’s very dangerous, man!”

  “Oh, fuck it. Tell me something that’s not dangerous.”

  The driver got out of the car. Hat was being very nice to him and asked Zé Ina’cio to finish parking the car. Dito noticed his friends’ pleasure in driving that car, as he moved it forward and backward. When he came back to sit down, Dito said:

  “With your part in this job, you’ll be able to buy two of those cars. You hide the dough for a couple of years and then let fly with it.”

  Zé Ina’cio had other plans, closer to reality: “Not a car! If I get some real money, I’m buying an apartment for auntie.””Who is auntie?”

  “The old woman who raised me. When I left her she cried a lot. Then I promised her that one day I would help her out.”

  “And where does she live?”

  “In a slum, close to Continental Park.”

  Dito looked at his friend as if he had never known him. He envied him for having someone about whom he could worry. And he repeated the plan. Zé Ina’cio already knew how to behave, and got impatient.

  “Don’t get mad, man,” Dito warned, “we must know this in our sleep. Or they will catch us.”

  “And the guns?”

  “I’ll get them.”

  “Who will go in first?”

  “I will,” Dito answered. “I’ll get one of the women, put a gun to her head. You get the rest into the bathroom. Then we clean out the cashier. We let some bills fall in direction of the elevator and we return by the back stairs.”

  Zé Ina’cio smiled. He seemed convinced of the plan’s virtues.

  “Where do you think they will be looking for us?” Dito asked.

  Zé Ina’cio smiled again and asked: “What if the guys from the fifth floor show up, where do we go?”

  “That’s why I think the best day would be a Friday. Saturday the offices aren’t open. We can stay in the offices all day long if necessary.”

  “But what if someone arrives?”

  “What if he does? We grab the son of bitch and lock him up in the bathroom.”

  Zé Ina’cio leaned against the wall covered by old, colorful advertising posters, played with a beer bottle cap he found on the ground and said, “If it works, I’ll leave this city.”

  Dito who was also leaning against the wall, cleaned some dirt off his shoes.

  “I’ll go to Rio. I was doing well with a gang there. I met a really nice girl. Maybe we’ll live together. But before that, I have to square some accounts.”

  Zé Ina’cio was finally able to bend the beer bottle cap, “What accounts?”

  “With the cemetery dude who killed Pichote.” Dito knew Zé Ina’cio didn’t know who Pichote was, but he didn’t feel like explaining either. “His name is Galego. I’ll meet him, face to face. Then I’ll kill him.”

  “What if they catch you?”

  “I doubt they will. With money in the pocket everything is easier. I’ll kill Galego and then I’ll look for another guy called Eyelash. He, Xereta, Panther and Overtime left me this memento.” Dito raised up his pants leg and Zé Ina’cio saw the foot deformity. “They will get it one way or another. Here in Sao Paulo, I’ll give good money to the person who can get me the address of police chief Dr. Mauro. I’ll enjoy meeting him.”

  “Wow, you’ll have a lot to do!”

  “With money, man, we don’t need to hurry. It will be one at a time, according to God’s wishes. No rush.”Zé Ina’cio’s plans did not include vengeance. He only wanted to escape away with the woman he had seen in her underwear, because he felt she wasn’t in love with the owner of the cars. “I’m gonna give Hat some money too,” he said. “He helped me a lot. At first I didn’t know how to move a car.”

  They both stayed quiet, until Zé Ina’cio asked him a question he didn’t know how to answer.

  “What if Black Fly shows up and wants a piece of the action?”

  “We tell him there are no openings.”

  IV

  That night Zé Ina’cio showed up again, a little nervous but happy. He found Dito lying underneath a broken down van, that had been abandoned for many weeks.

  “Look here, man!”

  Dito came out from under the car. Zé Ina’cio opened up a package wrapped in newsprint, and several guns appeared. One of them was new.

  “Where did you find them?”

  His friend explained. A car had parked and the driver had gone away. After a few minutes Zé Ina’cio got the courage to open the glove compartment. He took out a pair of sun glasses, a lighter and the package. “I thought it was pretty heavy and tried right off to know what it was and saw the weapons.”

  “Wow, man, everything is going in our favor. This is proof that the plan will work.”

  “What are we gonna do with the guns?”

  “We hide them under the van, until tomorrow.”

  Zé Ina’cio looked at the guns again, while Dito reminded him:

  “Now we gotta get some money for a lockpick and bullets.”

  Zé Ina’cio and Dito pulled all the money they had out of their pockets.<
br />
  “It’s enough for the pick. The bullets we get by force.”

  The two walked down the Sao Joao avenue, Dito kicking bottle caps. When they reached a convenience store run by a Japanese family, Zé Ina’cio joked that maybe they could buy the bullets there. They went in and the Japanese woman came out to serve them. In truth, she didn’t like their presence there. They walked among the aisles and shelves filled with candies and chocolates. Zé Ina’cio grabbed some chocolate bars, Dito picked up some mint and cream hard candies, placing a pile of coins by the cash register. The Japanese woman tried to count the change as fast as she could, but when she discovered the money was not enough — not even for half of what they took — they had gone.

  The woman got to the door, went out into the sidewalk, but they were already far away, either jumping or springing into short runs, until they finally disappeared among the hurrying crowd on the sidewalks, indifferent to what occurred around them.

  They passed by the door of the targetted supermarket. Dito studiously observed all entrances to the building, and sent Zé Ina’cio to look and see if they could go from one building to another up on the roofs. Dito sat down by the curb at a gas station and looked at the traffic in the streets and below Minhocao. Zé Ina’cio came back in a rush, crossing dangerously the street’s several lanes, and sat next to Dito.

  “There is no space between the two buildings. It’ll be easy to get from one to another.”

  Dito didn’t say anything. He was pleased with his friend’s enthusiasm. It was rare for him to get excited.

  “What about the back of the buildings, d’you know what’s back there? An old house.” Zé Ina’cio continued animated.

  Dito knew this would make the plan’s execution even easier.

  “And is there a garage entrance?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t see any cars.”

  “Do you know what I’m thinking?” Dito asked. “What if tomorrow the building’s custodians don’t let us come in?”

  That doubt appeared to pierce Zé Ina’cio’s brains. “What should we do?” He asked.

  “We’ll attack today. We’ve already got the guns; we’ve got until later this afternoon to get hold of some bullets. Then, we can get a bag. And that’s it.”

  Zé Ina’cio felt a cold chill go up his spine. He had never been involved in a plan of such magnitude. When Dito, Black Fly and Armadillo had broken into a bakery, he, Zé Ina’cio, had been in jail. He had only heard them talk about it. Black Fly used to lean against the wall and recount their adventure. And whenever he could, he would exaggerate the details, making it seem as if he, Black Fly, had been the leader of the group. But Zé Ina’cio knew all along that Dito had been the planner. That’s why he wasn’t scared now.

  “Then, I’m gonna get us some bullets, while you get hold of the lockpick.”

  “Done!”

  They stood up. Zé Ina’cio crossed the street again, in between speeding cars. Dito ran to catch a bus.

  V

  Pa’dua’s mechanic shop was located in a narrow alley populated by cats and dogs hiding behind large garbage cans, and a bunch of boys playing an improvised game of soccer. On the sidewalks several cars were parked, some waiting to be worked on, others simply rusting out, exposed as they were to the prolonged effects of sun and rain. The location served also as home to several street people. Pa’dua was glad to see Dito.

  “You! Where have you been?”

  Pa’dua was a bald Italian, short with energetic eyes, who always smiled, as if he had no problems. The shop was small and was lit only by two light bulbs. Along the walls there were narrow counters and from the ceiling hung several objects, some of which had become part of the decor, while others just waited to be picked up by their owners. There were also small and large refrigerators, tricycles’ wheels, chains, pulleys, spiral springs, compressors, serpentines and all kinds of tools.

  The Italian would spend most of his time seated on a bench, where he puzzled over broken objects. When Dito came in, he was studying a defective generator.

  “I’ll have to have this disassembled again to see what in hell is the problem,” the Italian said.

  Dito talked to him about the lockpick. The man frowned at that idea.

  “Again?”

  Dito shrugged his shoulders and smiled. “This will be a good one. You can take a part of the profit, easy!”

  The Italian was pleased. He opened a drawer and began to show Dito some keys, until the young man found one similar to the one he might need.

  “This would work.”

  Pa’dua continued to go through his drawer, which was full of little things. Then, he showed the true lockpick for that kind of lock. Dito was happy.

  “That’s it!”

  “You can use up to twenty different variations with it,” the Italian told him. “If after that you still can’t open it, it would be better to give up.”

  The man smiled, his small eyes shining. Dito smiled also and put the key in his pocket, listening to the Pa’dua’s story of how Armadillo had got him into trouble.

  “I won’t work with him any more,” he said, “at the last moment he gets out and still fingers you.”

  Dito listened but refused to make any accusations about his friend.

  “He ended up getting into real trouble.”

  Pa’dua turned on the generator one more time, but it didn’t turn. Dito used this moment to leave, promising to return. He passed by a car inhabited by a homeless man, whose bald head, dusty eyes and hair were the only parts he could see as he walked. Some boys still played with a ball, while cats were sifting through the garbage and dogs were holding on to bones on the ground.

  He returned to the square where he should meet Zé Ina’cio, sat on a bench and stared at the children playing in the playground, enjoying the dark but warm afternoon. Behind them city gardeners sprinkled flower beds with water, ignoring the ficus seeds that covered the ground. There were many cars in the surrounding streets and once in a while he could hear them brake at the red lights. On one side of the square under the sign of a photo lab, he spotted Zé Ina’cio coming along slowly, unhurried, crossing the street without waiting for the cars to stop at the light.

  “It was tough, man,” he said as he sat down.

  “But did you get it?”

  “Of course!”

  “I got the lockpick also,” Dito replied.

  Zé Ina’cio took out a pack of bullets from his pocket, saying: “I think there are about thirty-eight.”

  “That’s OK. We’ll keep the rest.”

  Dito opened the package and asked Zé Ina’cio to make cover, so no one would be able to see him load the drum.

  “Done!”

  They wrapped up the left over bullets again. Dito sighed with relief.

  “Later on we go to the building. Pray for everything to work,” Dito said.

  Zé Ina’cio felt a cold chill through his spine. “I’m a little scared.”

  “That’s normal, man. Think about the woman and your fear will go away.”

  “And what do you think about?”

  Though the question took Dito by surprise, he answered:

  “I don’t know. Parhaps about Beth, Mother Dolores or even about Magda, who lays everyone in Mangue.”

  “And did you fuck her?”

  “When I was there I couldn’t. I was there for something else.”

  Zé Ina’cio took out his American cigarettes and offered one to Dito. They smoked, blowing the smoke lazily in the light air of the afternoon.

  “You go in first,” Dito said, “we buy a newspaper and put it under the arm. If the jerk in the lobby wants to know what you’re doing, you say you are taking the newspaper to your boss in the office. Go ahead, because it’ll work.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll follow you. He won’t try something funny with me. I won’t let him,” Dito said.

  “What if there’s no money around, today?”

  “Ppfff!..
. Do you think these sons of bitches pass one day without money?” Dito paused then continued. “We can’t work out every possibility, man. We have to act.” Saying that he stood up and walked away. Zé Ina’cio followed him.

  They crossed Minhocao’s several lanes, until they reached the supermarket, which at that time was full of customers.

  “See how crowded it is?” Dito remarked.Zé Ina’cio’s courage was renewed. He got into the building putting the newspaper under his arm, as Dito had suggested. there were other people waiting for the elevator. He stood in line. The porter didn’t say anything. Zé Ina’cio got on the elevator. Dito’s turn came later. He was worse dressed than his colleague. The porter observed him but didn’t say anything. He played around with the package where he was carrying the guns. But as he got out of the elevator on the fifth floor, the elevator operator asked him: “Who are you gonna see here?”

  “The dentist.” Dito said.

  “I think he has not come.”

  “I talked to him downstairs. He’s coming.”

  As soon as the corridor was left in silence, Dito looked for an office where he couldn’t see any lights. Then he told Zé Ina’cio to pick the lock of that office, while he, Dito, would go take a look at the fourth floor. He disappeared in the stairway, returning soon afterwards to say everything was going according to plan. The door opened, and Zé Ina’cio didn’t know what to do.

  They went in and shut the door. Inside they experimented with the lockpick several times. They were sure they could open and lock the door as they wished. Dito examined the room. There were dusty cabinets, a telephone on the floor, books and a thick layer of dust on the table.

  “I think no one has been coming here at all.”

  “Could we have this much luck?” Zé Ina’cio said in a low voice.

  Besides the bathroom there was also a closet with a small stove and a sink.

  “If someone shows up, we can hide here,” Dito said of the closet.

  “We don’t need to hide. We take the guy down.” Zé Ina’cio

  said with conviction.

  Dito unpacked the guns and gave one to his friend.

  “The bag stays with me.”

  “Won’t it be better to wait until six, when there will be fewer office workers?”

 

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