City of God

by Paulo Lins

  ‘I don’t know who this Dirty Dick guy is … How come he snuck off?’ asked Jackfruit.

  ‘He’d lit a joint and didn’t have anywhere to throw it.’

  ‘He could’ve just put up his hand and tried to talk,’ said Acerola.

  ‘No way! Boss of Us All ain’t interested in talkin’. He’s been shootin’ people left right and centre!’ said Mango.

  They hung around chewing the fat. Hellraiser warned them not to smoke in the streets when Boss of Us All was on duty. If they wanted to have a smoke without any hassles it was fine for them to just turn up at his place. The dope heads mentally turned down his invitation. If the police suddenly showed up they wouldn’t know any of them from a hole in the wall. By the time they’d explained who was who, the vultures would already be circling overhead. Hellraiser promised he’d kill Boss of Us All the next day. He swore so adamantly that only silence followed. The joint was already dying. Acerola glanced around, hoping to avoid unpleasant surprises. Hellraiser suddenly stared at Green Eyes and broke the silence.

  ‘How come you’re black and you got green eyes?’

  They laughed. Hellraiser finished off the roach, dropped it and stood on it. He left saying he was going to Teresa’s to rustle up a couple of wraps of coke so he could stay up all night and surprise Boss of Us All when he was leaving work. The heads hung around a little longer.

  ‘This shit makes you really sleepy, you know,’ said Acerola.

  ‘You really think Boss of Us All’s gonna die tomorrow?’ asked Jackfruit.

  ‘I’m not stickin’ around to see,’ said Acerola, laughing too much.

  ‘You’re really shitfaced, man! You’re gonna get home and raid the kitchen!’ joked Orange.

  Hellraiser drew close to the police station, his footsteps still shrouded in pre-dawn darkness. He’d spent the night getting wasted while Berenice slept. He bit his lips, checked to make sure everything was OK with his gun and visualised his pombagira. Outside, Saturday night was still in full swing with improvised sambas in bars, street-corner romances and potluck parties in people’s backyards. Oblivious to the night, Hellraiser had snorted too much. Berenice had lain there, unmoving, unaware of everything that was about to happen. Her husband was going to take out Boss of Us All. A cat on the roof had frightened him and he’d decided to turn out the living-room light so as not to attract attention. He’d knocked back a mouthful of brandy to perk himself up before heading out to finish off that shithead of a cop.

  He positioned himself strategically so he could pull the trigger as soon as Boss of Us All went past. He couldn’t miss from where he was. All he had to do was fire, then head up Red Hill, come back down through the neighbourhood of Araújo, circle back through The Plots, pass the Doorway to Heaven, go down Main Street and hide out at Sting’s place. If there was a chase he’d head into the bush, because no policeman in his right mind would risk a shootout in the bush. He waited there for his enemy for more than three hours.

  Boss of Us All had breakfast at the police station and said goodbye to his fellow officers with the smile of one who has done a good job. It was cold outside. He took his first few steps rummaging about in his trouser pockets to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. Then he opened his bag, had a last look inside, spat on the ground, picked his nose, rolled the snot between his fingers and ate it.

  Hellraiser had already taken aim. He was waiting for him to walk another thirty feet, then bang – he’d send the bastard off to rot in hell. His finger was already beginning to pull the trigger when a car went past, blocking his view. He started again with shaking hands, then held his breath and fired. Boss of Us All threw himself to the ground and crawled to a post. As he got up, he heard another shot and saw the sniper make a run for it.

  ‘Hellraiser, ya fuckin’ cunt! Think it’s easy to knock me off? Now we’ll see who’s who! C’mon, shoot then, go ahead and shoot me, ya faggot!’

  The other policemen came to their pal’s aid, and wanted to take off after the gangster immediately. Boss of Us All objected, saying it was his business alone and he’d take care of it that very day. He went back to the station, got his machine gun, slung his bag into a corner and left, weaving his way recklessly through the alleys. He correctly guessed the route Hellraiser had taken, and waited in ambush in an alley near the Doorway to Heaven.

  When he saw he wasn’t being followed, Hellraiser crossed the street feeling a little calmer, but even so, the misfortune of not having hit his enemy caused him to shudder in the face of a failure that could cost him his life. He’d baited the bear. He had to get out of there as fast as he could. He stuck his gun in his waistband. Hammer had been a gangster but he’d got out before the shit hit the fan. He’d go home for Berenice and take her with him to anywhere far from there – he’d even go to São Carlos. He looked up and saw a heron flapping across the grey sky. The real fear of death comes only when you’re about to die.

  Boss of Us All had already seen him. He scratched his dick and waited for Hellraiser to get as close as possible. Hellraiser walked with his head down. If he’d killed the bastard the world would be different now. He’d buy ten wraps of coke, a crate of beer and a shitload of weed to celebrate. He raised his head and saw a woman pass an alley and start running, pulling a child along by the arm. He snapped back to the present. He cocked his gun, doubled around the block and fired. Again the policeman got away unscathed and this time returned fire straightaway. Hellraiser ran to the corner and stopped. He knew his enemy was alone. Now he’d exchange fire, even though Boss of Us All had a machine gun. With the speed of a bullet, he visualised his pombagira. Boss of Us All’s face peered around the corner. Hellraiser pulled the trigger. Boss of Us All ran out into the open firing his machine gun, riddling the wall Hellraiser was hiding behind with holes.

  Boss of Us All’s attitude made Hellraiser hesitate for a fraction of a second, then he quickly sprinted to another corner. The policeman came after him, his machine gun spitting out bullets. Hellraiser broke into someone’s backyard, jumped two fences and took shelter behind a post. A man shook a child’s head, trying unsuccessfully to bring him back to life. A hail of bullets had torn through his chest, perforating a lung. The man cried out to people running past, begging them for the love of God to help his son.

  Boss of Us All looked at the child in the throes of death, but fuck it – better the child than him. He wanted to tear the gangster’s body to shreds. Instead of taking the same route as Hellraiser, he took off around the block at a speed his old body had not managed for a long time. He saw his enemy as he finished replacing the magazine. He took aim, held his breath, fired and missed. Hellraiser sent lead flying and bought himself enough time to flee the battle scene. He decided it was impossible to face Boss of Us All when he had a machine gun. He wove his way through the alleys, down Middle Street and arrived home. Boss of Us All tried to follow him, but gave up before he even got to the Bonfim. The shootout now over, residents began to appear in the streets again. A friend of the family carried the child’s body to the clinic. Boss of Us All went into the Bonfim. He asked if anyone there knew where Hellraiser lived. His question echoed between mixed drinks, cachaça, beers. The drinkers’ silence was swallowed dry. He downed a shot of brandy, walked back to the station, got more ammunition and went home.

  Hellraiser woke up at around two in the afternoon and raided the kitchen. Berenice thought her husband had spent the night holed up with some slut. Her jealousy made her sulk, but even so she served him some food and went outside to talk with her friends.

  Boss of Us All didn’t spend long at home. He took his wife to the bus station. She was going to spend a month in their home state of Ceará. Before his wife had even got on the bus, he hurried back to the estate and roamed the steepest alleys carrying a long-barrelled .38 and his machine gun. He prayed to his exu to make Hellraiser a sitting duck in his path. City of God was creepy – empty streets, no kites or sun in the sky. The street market finished early and the day passe
d slowly. The street corners lay in ambush. Boss of Us All gave up his search and on his way home saw a boy leaving the clinic with his leg in plaster. He had broken it in a manhole without a lid while fleeing from the gunfire that morning. Hellraiser spent the rest of the day at home.

  Monday dawned wounded. Rainy days seem premature, if not aborted. The cold brought with it the pleasures of laziness. It was nice to stay in.

  As soon as Berenice woke up, Hellraiser asked her to buy provisions, dope and coke, with the intention of spending a week holed up at home. No way was he going to let Kojak get him. He’d eat, drink, snort and fuck his wife all week long. He figured Boss of Us All would cool down. He might even think he’d fled the favela. He was worried that some northerner might grass on him. Northerners, who all sucked up to their bosses, were also grasses. A worthless bunch. They’d have you believe they shat flowers.

  The idea of leaving the estate to save his life lasted all week long, although he knew he couldn’t move house as it would attract the police’s attention. He’d become aware that the only physical space that belonged to him was his body. He had to preserve it, but if he left the estate he’d lose face. He’d be a coward if he chickened out, if he wasn’t man enough to waste Boss of Us All or die in a shootout with him.

  ‘My husband died in a shootout!’ Berenice would boast, or at least that’s what Hellraiser misguidedly thought.

  Boss of Us All roamed the entire estate day and night. He exchanged fire with Sting on Wednesday and managed to arrest two gangsters at The Flats. He killed another over in Block Fifteen. By Friday, he already believed Hellraiser had left the estate, as his friends in uniform had figured. He relaxed.

  ‘Where you from?’

  ‘I’m from here, girl. Nobody knows me because I hardly ever go out, but then I haven’t been livin’ here for very long either.’

  ‘Where’d you come from?’

  ‘I used to live over in São Carlos and I also spent some time over in the Red Light District.’

  ‘Who d’you know there?’

  ‘Um … I know Milk, Cleide, Neide …’

  ‘You know Milk? That’s right! Is he still selling weed there?’

  ‘No, the cops’ve got an arrest warrant out for him … He had to clear out for a while. Hadn’t you heard?’

  ‘And how’s Neide goin’?’

  ‘She’s fine. Gone and got herself a belly with a guy over in Turano and she’s holing up with him over there.’

  ‘So that’s why she didn’t parade last year …’

  ‘No, it wasn’t ’cos of that. The president of the section got up her nose and she started ripping off her costume, then went for her tooth and claw … It was the biggest knock-down, drag-out fight.’

  ‘Who’s the president?’

  ‘Dona Carmem.’

  ‘Of course – that woman’s such a bitch! She’s pissed me off before too … What’s your name?’

  ‘Ari, but you can call me Ana Flamengo. What’s yours?’

  ‘Lúcia, but everyone knows me as Lúcia Maracanã. If anyone gives you a hard time, just tell ’em you’re a friend of mine and everythin’ll be fine, OK? I’m goin’ for a walk around. I’ll come and talk some more before the end of the dance.’

  Although on edge, Hellraiser went for a walk with his wife. He couldn’t stand sitting around inside watching the clock tick any longer. He threw back a beer at Dona Idê’s Bar, but didn’t stay in any one place for very long. Against Berenice’s wishes, he decided to look in on the dance. He went into the hall only after making sure Boss of Us All wasn’t there, then roamed the entire club, accepting greetings in silence, always in silence. He wasn’t in the habit of speaking when he was strung out. He stopped near the bar. One of the directors offered him a beer. He drank quickly, his eyes searching the darkest corners. His gaze came to rest on the transvestite. He’d never seen that woman. She might be a grass. He was about to head over to check her out, but Berenice, who had followed his gaze, said somewhat jealously:

  ‘Don’t go, he’s a faggot!’

  Hellraiser again fixed his eyes on Ari. His skin broke out in a cold sweat. Yes, it was Ari – his mother’s son who wanted to be a woman, right there in the middle of everyone. For sure they’d take the piss out of him; they’d feel him up then bash his face in. He wasn’t hanging around to see that. He pulled Berenice along saying something was telling him Boss of Us All was in the area.

  They left the dance quickly and turned down the right branch of the river. Hellraiser approached crossroads and turned corners carelessly. He stared at the ground; if it opened he’d let it swallow him so he’d never again have to see Ari. Berenice walked beside him, taking all the precautions. As they turned down the last street, she glanced at her husband, who had allowed a few tears to escape from his red eyes.

  Down at the end of the road, Boss of Us All’s lips drew back into a murderous smile and he pointed his machine gun at that easy target. He’d kill the wife too. Those who keep company with gangsters go down with them. Berenice looked back down the street. She had time to jump on her husband and fall to the ground with him. The machine-gun fire snarled in their ears. Hellraiser returned fire awkwardly, managing to protect Berenice while she got out of the firing line. His first shot was way off mark. The second almost tore off the policeman’s ear. Boss of Us All fired another round, then took cover. Even from the ground, Hellraiser fired five near-hits. Then he got up, slipped away, jumped two fences, crossed two streets, went around the block, reloaded his gun and crept up behind his enemy. He crouched on the corner and saw Boss of Us All heading away towards the club. He walked slowly home and went inside, his nerves in shreds.

  Berenice looked at her husband. She could barely speak. Her most spontaneous gesture was to cry, allowing her entire body to shudder. Hellraiser wandered back and forth in the pitiful space that was his home. If that arsehole of a cop discovered where he lived, he might surprise him in his sleep. And that fairy was around again pretending to be a woman. Ari was a cancer that ate at his stomach. What was that bastard doing at the dance? His place was in the Red Light District! Why hadn’t Boss of Us All’s bullets blasted his head off? It was the only way he wouldn’t run into his brother again.

  Berenice went into the bathroom, washed away the blood running down her arm, splashed water on her face and returned to the sofa. Her husband was sitting in the kitchen doorway. She thought about begging him to get out right then and there, but it’d be no use; Hellraiser was pig-headed. If she wanted to leave she’d have to go alone. Although she knew her husband hated women crying, she was unable to stop fresh tears from rolling.

  Hellraiser stared at a dead ant. He couldn’t say a thing about his wife’s crying. She was the one who had saved his life and almost lost her own. Perhaps if he cried too, something at the core of him would change, but men didn’t cry, especially in front of women. Men who cried were queers, like Ari. The oil lamp in front of the saint flickered in the wind. He heard a car and cocked his gun. If it was Boss of Us All he’d have it out with him until one of them fell. The car didn’t stop. His thoughts returned to his brother. A vague feeling of tenderness ran through his soul, but his hatred for that faggot was reignited. Why had he shown up again? He would never confess, not even to the pombagira, that that bastard was of the same blood as he was. Berenice stopped crying. The silence was only broken when people went past and talked in the street. He moved closer to his wife and tried to resist the urge to hug her, but she held out her arms. He sat there suffering in silence with her.

  Sunday brought rain, but looking out towards Barra da Tijuca one could see rays of sunlight poking through just above the horizon. Sting went to Hellraiser’s place to take him a box of shells and his rifle. He didn’t think it fair to leave Hellraiser with only a .45 when the enemy had a machine gun. He made a number of recommendations and implicit threats in their conversation about the rifle. They spent half an hour examining the weapon. It was easy to shoot and could fire one shot
at a time or in bursts. Hellraiser decided to buy his friend a beer and roll him a joint in recognition of his gesture. As they smoked they strolled through the alleys and drizzle of an almost dead rain. They were both wearing Lee jeans and jackets. Hellraiser was carrying the .45 and a long-barrelled .38, while Sting only had a .32. They headed up Middle Street. The joint was petering out, so they decided to salvage what was left of it. Hellraiser removed some tobacco from the end of a cigarette, replaced it with the roach, lit it, took two tokes and passed it to Sting.

  The day was up and running with the Bonfim still open for a few remnants of the night. Whoever saw them moved away, afraid there might be a shootout at any moment. Beth Carvalho sang out from Bahian Paulo’s phonograph. Torquato opened a beer. They toasted. Sting asked Hellraiser to use the rifle only once. Boss of Us All couldn’t be allowed to see the gun and get away, and if he was with other policemen they’d all have to die. The thing was not to let anyone know about the rifle. The police couldn’t be allowed to find out that the weapon was in City of God. Staring fixedly into his friend’s face, he said that if he managed to kill Boss of Us All he’d have to cut open his body and retrieve the bullet, so no one would be the wiser.

  Lúcia Maracanã came over. She looked at Hellraiser, went over to the counter, asked for a glass and slowly poured herself a beer. Hellraiser asked what was up. Lúcia told him she was very worried, because Boss of Us All had shown up at the club saying that soon the Devil would have a fresh corpse and that he wouldn’t sleep until he’d killed him. Hellraiser emptied his glass of beer in a single gulp. He turned to Sting with a knowing laugh. Lúcia continued. She talked about the transvestite who had left the club in a frenzy when he heard the shots. A shiver ran down Hellraiser’s spine. Everyone had seen Ari. That dirty homo had had the gall to show up on his turf. The next time he saw him he was going to shoot him in the foot. He changed the subject, then said goodbye. He spent the rest of the day at home.