drained of all strength, unable to throw up or cry any more.
He spoke to me, but all I could do was moan. “What’s wrong, Zezé? Talk to me.”
I just kept moaning in a low voice. Totoca put his hand on my forehead.
“You’re burning up with fever. What’s going on, Zezé? Come with me, let’s go home. I’ll help you, we’ll go slow.”
I managed to speak between moans. “Forget it, Totoca. I’m not going back to that house.”
“Yes, you are. It’s our house.” “There’s nothing left for me there. It’s all over.”
He tried to help me up, but he saw that I didn’t have the strength. He wrapped my arms around his neck and carried me in his arms.
When we got home, he laid me down on the bed. “Jandira! Glória! Where is everyone?”
He went to find Jandira, who was chatting with Alaíde at her house. “Jandira, Zezé’s really sick.”
She came, grumbling. “He must be up to something. A few good smacks with a flip-flop...”
But Totoca had walked nervously into the bedroom. “No, Jandira. This time he’s really sick and he’s going to die.”
For three days and three nights, I didn’t want a thing.
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