“I don’t think so.” The light came in and I could see a sliver of beautiful sky.
I took one look at it and started to cry again. “What’s the matter, Zezé?”
“The Baby Jesus made such a beautiful blue sky for you. He told me so today...”
Gloria didn’t know that the sky reminded me of heaven. She leaned over, took my hands in hers and tried to cheer me up.
Her face was tired and thin. “Look, Zezé, soon you’ll be better. Flying kites, winning a heap of marbles, climbing trees, riding Pinkie.”
“I want to see you back to your old self, singing songs, bringing me lyrics. So many beautiful things.”
“See how sad the street is lately? Everyone misses the life and cheer you bring to it. But you have to help. Live, live and live.”
“But I don’t want to any more, Gló. If I get better, I’ll be bad again. You don’t understand. I don’t have anyone to be good for any more.”
“Well you don’t need to be that good. Be a boy, be the child you always were.”
“What for, Gló? So everyone can hit me again? So everyone can treat me badly?”
She took my face between her fingers and said resolutely, “Look, shrimp. I promise you one thing.”
“When you get better, no one, but no one, not even God, is going to lay a finger on you. They’d have to step over my cold cadaver first!”
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