by Jorge Amado
They went. Big João and the Professor went ahead. They both wanted to chat with Dora but nobody knew what to say, they’d never been in a jam like that before. They looked at her blond hair where the electric light was falling.
On the sand Zé Ferret was unable to walk any farther. Big João picked up the child (in spite of his also being a child…) and put him on his back. The Professor went along with Dora, but they were silent in the night.
They went warily into the warehouse. Big João put Zé Ferret down onto the ground, stood there waiting for the Professor and Dora to come in. They all went to the Professor’s corner where he lighted his candle. The others were looking toward the corner with surprise. Legless’s dog barked:
“New people…” Cat murmured as he got ready to leave.
Cat went over to where they were:
“Who are they, Professor?”
“Their father and mother died of smallpox. They were in the street with no place to sleep.”
Cat looked at Dora, putting on his best smile. It was a kind of greeting (he’d seen a leading man do it in a movie) with his body, trying out a phrase he’d heard once:
“A hearty welcome, madame…”
He couldn’t remember the rest, was half-bashful, went out to see Dalva. But the others came over. Legless and Good-Life were in the lead. Dora looked with fright. Zé Ferret was asleep from fatigue. Big João placed himself in front of Dora. The light from the candle illuminated the girl’s blond hair, at times lighted on her breasts. Professor got up, leaned against the wall. Now the light was showing through the hole in the roof.
Good-Life was in front of them. Legless limped over, and the others right behind, their eyes on Dora. Good-Life spoke:
“Who’s this little piece?”
The Professor came forward:
“She was hungry. She and her brother. Smallpox killed her father and mother…”
Good-Life gave off a long laugh. He bent over:
“She’s a knockout…”
Legless laughed his mocking laugh, pointed to the others:
“They’re all like vultures over a piece of meat…”
Dora moved closer to Zé Ferret, who had awakened and was shaking with fear. A voice from among the boys said:
“Professor, do you think only you and Big João can have something to eat? Leave some for us too…”
Another shouted:
“My iron’s all hot…”
A lot of them laughed. One came forward and showed his sex to Big João:
“Look at this baby, Big Man. Crazy…”
Big João put himself in front of Dora. He didn’t say a word, but he drew his knife. Legless shouted:
“You won’t get anywhere that way. She’s got to be for all of us.”
Professor answered:
“Can’t you see she’s just a girl?…”
“She’s got teats already,” a voice shouted.
Dry Gulch came out from the group. His eyes were all excited, a laugh on his somber face:
“Lampião didn’t respect nobody. Let us have her, Big Boy…”
They knew that the Professor was weak, he couldn’t stand up. They were crazy and excited but they were still afraid of Big João, who was gripping his knife. Dry Gulch saw himself as though in the middle of Lampião’s gang, ready along with the rest to deflower the daughter of a landowner. The candle lighted up Dora’s blond hair. There was fright on her face.
Big João wasn’t saying anything but he clutched the knife in his hand. Professor opened his switchblade, stood beside him. Then Dry Gulch drew his knife too, started forward. The others came behind him, the dog was barking. Good-Life spoke once more:
“Stand aside, Big Boy. It’s better that way…”
Professor thought that if Cat had been there he would have been on their side because Cat already had a woman. But Cat had left.
Dora watched the advance. Fear was conquering the listlessness and fatigue that had been over her. Zé Ferret was crying. Dora didn’t take her eyes off Dry Gulch. The Halfbreed’s somber face was open with one desire, a nervous laugh shook it. She also saw the pockmarks on Good-Life’s face when he passed in front of the candle and then she remembered her dead mother. A sob shook her and held the boys back for a moment. Professor said:
“Can’t you see she’s crying?”
They stopped for a moment. But Dry Gulch spoke:
“What difference does that make for us? The pussy’s all the same…”
They kept on coming. They were advancing slowly, their eyes fixed now on Dora, now on the dagger Big João was holding. Suddenly they speeded up, came much closer. Big João spoke for the first time:
“I’ll cut the first one…”
Good-Life laughed, Dry Gulch swung his knife. Zé Ferret was crying. Dora looked at him with frightened eyes. She hugged him, she saw Big João knock Good-Life down. The voice of Pedro Bala who was coming in made them stop:
“What the hell is going on?”
The Professor got up. Dry Gulch let go of him, he’d already cut him on the arm. Good-Life lay where he was, a cut on his face. Big João stood guard in front of Dora. Pedro Bala came forward:
“What’s this all about?”
Good-Life spoke from the ground:
“These guys fixed themselves a meal and they want it all for themselves. We’ve got a right to it too…”
“That’s right. I for one would like some screwing today,” Legless croaked.
Pedro Bala looked at Dora. He saw her breasts, her blond hair.
“They’re right…” he said. “Give up, Big João.”
The black boy looked at Pedro Bala, surprised. The group advanced again, led by Pedro Bala now. Big João put out his arms, shouted:
“Bullet, I’ll eat the first one who gets here.”
Pedro Bala took a step forward:
“Get away, Big Boy.”
“Can’t you see she’s just a girl? Can’t you see?”
Pedro Bala stopped, the group stopped behind him. Now Pedro was looking at Dora with other eyes. He saw the terror in her face, the tears falling from her eyes. He heard Zé Ferret sobbing. Big João was speaking:
“I’ve always stood by you, Bullet. I’m your friend, but she’s just a girl, the Professor and me brought her here. I’m your friend but if you come any closer I’ll kill you. She’s just a girl and nobody’s going to hurt her…”
“We’ll knock you down and then…” Dry Gulch said.
“Shut up,” Pedro Bala shouted.
Big João went on:
“Her father, her mother died of smallpox. We ran into her, she had no place to sleep, we brought her here. She’s no whore, she’s just a girl, can’t you see that she’s just a girl? Nobody touches her, Bullet.”
Pedro Bala said in a low voice:
“She’s just a girl…”
He went over to Big João and the Professor’s side:
“You’re a good man, black boy. You’re straight…” He turned to the others. “Anyone who wants to, come ahead…”
“You can’t do this, Bullet…” and Good-Life ran his hand over the cut. “You want to have a taste of her now for yourself, like Big Boy and the Professor…”
“I swear I don’t want her, they don’t want her either. She’s just a girl. But nobody touches her. Let anybody who wants to try it…”
The younger ones, more fearful, were going away. Good-Life got up, went to his corner, wiping off the blood. Dry Gulch spoke to Pedro Bala slowly:
“I’m not going because I’m afraid. It’s because you said she’s just a girl.”
Pedro Bala went over to Dora:
“Don’t be afraid. Nobody’s going to touch you.”
She came out of her corner, took a piece of cloth, began to look after the Professor’s wound. Then she went over to Good-Life (who was all curled up), wet the drifter’s wound, put a bandage on it. All her fear, all her fatigue had disappeared. Because she trusted Pedro Bala. Then she asked
Dry Gulch:
“Are you wounded too?”
“No…” the Halfbreed said without understanding. And he fled to his corner. He seemed to be afraid of Dora.
Legless was watching. The dog left his lap and came over to lick Dora’s feet. She petted him, asked Legless:
“Is he yours?”
“Yes, he is. But you can have him.”
She smiled. Pedro Bala wandered through the warehouse. Then he said to everyone:
“She leaves tomorrow. I don’t want any girls here.”
“No,” Dora said. “I’m staying, I’ll help you…I can cook, sew, wash clothes.”
“She can stay as far as I’m concerned,” Dry Gulch said.
Dora looked at Pedro Bala:
“Didn’t you say that no one would hurt me?…”
Pedro Bala looked at her blond hair. The moonlight was coming into the warehouse.
DORA, MOTHER
Cat came over with his body swaying in that characteristic walk of his. He’d been trying to thread a needle for an exceedingly long time. Dora had put Zé Ferret to sleep, now she was getting ready to listen to the Professor read that pretty story in the book with a blue cover. Cat came slowly swaying over:
“Dora…”
“What is it, Cat?”
“Would you like to do something?”
He was looking at the needle and thread he had in his hand. He seemed to be facing a grave problem. He didn’t know how to solve it. Professor stopped reading. Cat changed the subject:
“You’re going to go blind from so much reading, Professor…If we only had electric lights…” He looked at Dora without having made his decision.
“What is it, Cat?”
“This damned thread…I never saw anything so hard. Getting it into the eye of this needle…”
“Let me have it…”
She threaded the needle, made a knot at one end. Cat said to the Professor:
“Only a woman can do something like that…”
He held out his hand to take the needle, but Dora didn’t give it back. She asked what Cat had to sew. Cat showed her his jacket with a torn pocket. It was the cashmere item that had belonged to Legless when he’d been playing little rich boy in a house in Graça:
“Shitty piece of clothing,” Cat said.
“It’s really fine,” Dora defended it. “Take your jacket off.”
Professor and Cat watched her sew. She was no real marvel at sewing, but they’d never had anyone to mend their clothes. And only Cat and Lollipop were in the habit of mending theirs themselves. Cat because he wanted to be elegant and because he had a lover, Lollipop because he liked to be neat. The others let the rags they picked up get even more ragged, until they became useless. Then they would beg or steal another jacket and pair of pants. Dora finished the job:
“Anything else?”
Cat smoothed his slicked-down hair:
“The back of my shirt…”
He turned around. The shirt was torn from top to bottom. Dora told him to sit down, began to sew it on him. When her fingers touched him for the first time Cat had a shiver. As when Dalva would run her long manicured nails over him, scratching his back and saying:
“The pussy is scratching the tomcat…”
But Dalva didn’t mend his clothes, maybe she didn’t even know how to thread a needle. What she liked to do was fool around with him in bed, scratch his sides, but with an aim to working him up and exciting him so the love he made would be even better. Not Dora. That wasn’t her aim. Her hand (neglected and dirty nails, chewed down) didn’t mean to excite or stir up. It passed over him like the hand of a mother mending her son’s shirts. Cat’s mother had died young. She was a fragile, pretty woman. She’d had neglected hands too because a worker’s wife doesn’t have manicures. And that business of mending Cat’s shirts while he had them on was also her practice. Dora’s hand touches him again. The sensation is different now. It’s no longer a wave of desire. It’s that feeling of good affection and security that his mother’s hands gave him. Dora is behind him, he can’t see her. He imagines then that it’s his mother who’s come back. Cat is a little boy again, dressed in a burgarian smock and playing on the side of the hill, getting it torn to pieces. And his mother comes, makes him sit down in front of her, and her agile hands manipulate the needle, they touch him from time to time and give him a feeling of absolute happiness. No desire. Just happiness. She’s come back, she’s sewing Cat’s shirts. A wish to lie down in Dora’s lap and let her sing him to sleep as when he was small. He remembers that he’s still a child. But only in age, because in everything else he’s the equal of a man, stealing in order to live, sleeping every night with a woman of the street, taking money from her. But tonight he’s completely a child, he forgets Dalva, her hands scratching him, lips that hold his in long kisses, sex that absorbs him. He forgets his life of a petty pickpocket, the owner of a marked deck, a gambling cheat. He forgets everything, he’s just a fourteen-year-old boy with a little mother who mends his shirts. A wish for her to sing him to sleep…One of those lullabies that talk about the bogey man. Dora bites the thread, leans over him. Her blond hair touches Cat’s shoulder. But he has no desire other than for her to keep on being his little mother. His happiness at that moment is almost absurd. It’s as if his whole life after his mother’s death didn’t exist. It’s as if he’d kept on being a child just like all other children. Because on that night his mother had come back. That’s why the unconscious brush of Dora’s blond hair doesn’t excite his desire, but increases his happiness. And her voice that says: “All set, Cat,” sounds to his ears just like the soft musical voice of his mother, who would sing lullabies with Cat’s head resting on her lap.
He gets up, looks at Dora with thankful eyes:
“You’re our little mother now…” but he remains bashful over what to say, he thinks that Dora probably doesn’t even understand because she’s laughing with her serious face of an almost little woman. But Professor understands and Cat, standing opposite Dora, speaking in a happy voice but without desire, calling her mother and she smiling with her maternal air of an almost little woman is fixed in the Professor’s head as a painting.
Cat throws the coat over his shoulder and goes out with his swaying walk. He feels that there’s something new in the warehouse: they’ve found a mother, the love and care of a mother. Dalva finds him strange that night:
“What’s wrong with my little cat? What happened?”
But he keeps the secret. It’s something too big, finding a dead mother on earth again. Dalva wouldn’t understand.
When the Professor was just starting the story Big João arrived and sat down beside them. It was a rainy night. In the story Professor was reading the night was rainy too and the ship was in great danger. The sailors were being whipped, the captain was an evil man. The sailing ship seemed about to keel over, the officers’ whips fell on the naked backs of the sailors. Big João had an expression of pain on his face. Dry Gulch arrived with a newspaper but he didn’t interrupt the story, stood listening. Now the sailor John was being caned because he’d slipped and fallen in the midst of the storm. Dry Gulch interrupted:
“If Lampião had been there he would have blown that captain away with his rifle…”
That was what the sailor James did, a big hulk of a man. He flung himself on top of the captain, mutiny broke out on board ship. Outside it was raining. It was raining in the story too, it was the story of a storm and a mutiny. One of the officers took the side of the sailors.
“He’s all right…” Big João said.
He loved heroism. Dry Gulch was looking at Dora. Her eyes were shining, she loved heroism too. That pleased the boy from the backlands. Then the sailor James had a fierce fight. Dry Gulch was so happy that he whistled like a bird. Dora laughed too, from satisfaction. The two of them laughed together, then there was a cackling from all four, as was the custom with the Captains of the Sands. They cackled for a few minutes, others came over in ti
me to hear the rest of the story. They looked at Dora’s serious face, the face of an almost little woman who was watching them with the affection of a mother. They smiled when the sailor James threw the captain of the ship into a lifeboat and called him “Snake without venom,” they all laughed hard along with Dora and looked at her with love. The way children look at their beloved mother. When the story was over they went back to their corners, commenting:
“Great…”
“Tough guy…”
“He was screwed too…”
“The captain got what he had coming, eh?”
Dry Gulch held the newspaper out to Professor. Dora looked at the Halfbreed, he smiled, half-confused:
“It’s got news of Lampião…” His somber face lighted up. “Did you know that Lampião is my godfather?”
“Godfather?”
“Well, he is…It was my mother who picked him because Lampião’s a real man, he doesn’t kowtow to anybody…My mother was a brave woman, a woman who could hold a rifle. One day she chased off two cops who were acting up. She was quite a woman…As good as a man.”
Dora listened with fascination. Her serious face was looking with great sympathy at the mulatto’s somber face. Dry Gulch was silent but in the manner of someone trying to say something. Finally he spoke:
“You’re brave too…You know? My mother was a great big woman. She was a mulatto, she didn’t have blond hair, hers was the kinkiest…She wasn’t a girl anymore either, she could have been your grandmother…But you’re like her…”
He looked at Dora, but he lowered his head:
“It may seem funny, but you remind me of her. It may seem funny, but you’re like her…”
Professor looked with his myopic eyes. Dry Gulch was almost shouting, his somber face showed the joy of a discovery. “He’s discovered his mother too,” the Professor thought. Dora was serious, but her look was loving. Dry Gulch laughed, she laughed, then it became a cackle. But the Professor didn’t accompany them in their cackle. He began to read the account in the newspaper very quickly.
Lampião had been taken by surprise going into a village. A truck driver who’d seen him on the road with his gang had set out for the village to warn it. There’d been time to ask for reinforcements from neighboring towns and the flying column had come too. When Lampião entered the town he ran into a lot of shooting, shooting he hadn’t expected. There was a big fire fight, Lampião was only able to take off into the scrubland, which is his home. One of the gang members was laid out with a bullet in his chest. They cut off his head, which they sent to Bahia in triumph. The picture was in the paper. Mouth open, eyes staring, a man holding it by the thin hair. They’d cut the throat with a knife. Dora commented: