The bastard! I’d show him. I swore I’d get even. I swore that... but the pain eased off as I put distance between myself and those sons of bitches.
It’d be worse when the kids at school found out. And what was I going to tell Pinkie?
For a week, whenever I passed the Misery and Hunger they’d be laughing at me, in all their grown-up cowardice.
I’d have to leave earlier and cross the highway further down...
I approached the market with these thoughts running through my mind. I washed my feet in the fountain and put on my shoes.
Totoca was waiting for me anxiously. I wasn’t going to breathe a word about my humiliation. “Zezé, you’ve gotta help me.”
“What’ve you done?” “Remember Bié?” “That big kid from Rua Barão de Capanema?” “That’s the one.
He’s going to get me at the gate after school. Can you fight him for me?” “But he’ll kill me.”
“No, he won’t, and anyway, you’re brave and a good fighter.” “Alright. At the gate?” “At the gate.”
Totoca always did that. He’d get in a fight and then he’d have me sort it out. But it was a good thing.
I would take out all my anger at the Portuguese on Bié.
But that day I took such a beating that I came out with a black eye and my arms all scratched up.
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