Afterwards, I splashed water on his face in the washtub. I did the same to mine and we went back to the bedroom.
I dressed him without making any noise. I put his shoes on him. Goddam socks! They just get in the way is all they do.
I buttoned up his little blue suit and looked for a comb. But his hair wouldn’t stay down. Something had to be done about it.
I couldn’t find anything anywhere. No brilliantine, no oil. I went into the kitchen and came back with a little lard on my fingertips.
I rubbed it on my palm and took a whiff first. “It doesn’t smell at all.” Then I slapped it on Luís’s hair and started combing.
His head full of ringlets was beautiful. He looked like Saint John with a lamb on his back.
“Now, you stand over there, so you don’t get all wrinkled. I’m going to get dressed.”
As I pulled on my trousers and white shirt, I looked at my brother. What a beautiful child he was! There was no one more beautiful in Bangu.
I pulled on my tennis shoes, which had to last until I went to school the next year. I kept looking at Luís.
All lovely and neat like that, he could have been mistaken for a slightly older Baby Jesus.
I was sure he was going to get lots of presents. When they set eyes on him... I shuddered.
Glória had just come back and was putting the bread on the table. I could hear the paper bag rustling.
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