“Are you going to give me a calendar for Christmas, like last year?”
“What did you do with the one I gave you?” “You can go inside and see, Dona Dimerinda. It’s above the bag of bread.”
She laughed and promised she would. Her husband worked at Chico Franco’s general store.
The other game was Luciano. At first Luís was really scared of him and would tug on my trousers, asking to leave.
But Luciano was my friend. Whenever he saw me, he’d screech loudly.
Glória wasn’t happy about it either, and said that bats were vampires that sucked children’s blood.
“It’s not true, Gló. Luciano isn’t like that. He’s my friend. He knows me.”
“You and your critter mania, talking to things...”
It was hard work convincing Luís that Luciano wasn’t a critter.
To us, Luciano was a plane flying at the Campo dos Afonsos air base.
“Look, Luís.” And Luciano would fly happily around us as if he understood what we were saying.
And he did. “He’s an aeroplane. He’s doing...” I’d stop. I had to get Uncle Edmundo to tell me that word again.
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