The car turned onto Rua das Casinhas and I returned to the seat.
‘You strike me as a brave little man. Let’s go see if it’s true.’
He pulled up in front of the pharmacy and carried me inside in his arms.
When Dr Adaucto Luz came to help us, I was terrified.
He was doctor to the factory staff and knew Father well.
And my fear grew bigger when he looked at me and asked straight off the bat,
‘You’re Paulo Vasconcelos’s son, aren’t you? Has he found a position yet?’
I had to answer, although I was ashamed that the Portuguese now knew that Father was unemployed.
‘He’s waiting. He’s been promised a lot of things...’
‘Well, let’s get down to business.’ He peeled back the cloth stuck to the cut and let out an ‘uh-oh’ that frightened me.
My lips began to quiver. But the Portuguese came to my rescue.
They sat me on a table covered with white sheets. A bunch of tools appeared. And I shook.
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