Glória’s kindness and devotion managed to get me talking a little. Even Father stopped going out at night.
Totoca lost so much weight out of remorse that Jandira gave him a scolding. “Isn’t one sickly person enough, Totoca?”
“You’re not in my shoes to feel what I’m feeling. I was the one who told him.”
“I can still feel it in my stomach, even when I’m sleeping, his face, crying and crying.”
“Now don’t you go crying too. You’re a big boy and he’s going to pull through.”
“Now chin up and go buy me a can of condensed milk at the Misery and Hunger.”
“Then give me the money ’cause he won’t keep a tab for Father any more.”
My weakness made me constantly sleepy. I no longer knew when it was day or night.
The fever would ease a little and my tremors and agitation would let up.
I would open my eyes and, in the semi-darkness, there would be Glória, who never left my side.
She had brought the rocking chair into the room and often fell asleep in it, she was so tired.
“Gló, is it afternoon already?” “Almost, my love.” “Do you want to open the window?” “Won’t it make your head hurt?”
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