I called Totoca the minute I woke up. “Let’s go see! I say there is something.”
“I wouldn’t bother.” “Well, I’m going to.” I opened the bedroom door and, to my disappointment, my shoes were empty.
Totoca came over, rubbing his eyes. “Didn’t I tell you?”
A mixture of everything welled up in my soul. It was loathing, anger and sadness.
Unable to contain myself, I blurted out, “Having a poor father is awful!”
My eyes travelled from my shoes to a pair of sandals that were parked in front of me.
Father was standing there looking at us. His eyes were enormous with sadness.
It looked like his eyes had grown so big – so big that they’d occupy the entire Bangu Cinema screen.
There was so much hurt in his eyes that he couldn’t have cried if he’d wanted to.
He stood there looking at us for a minute that was endless, then walked past in silence.
We stood there, frozen, unable to say a thing. He took his hat from the chest of drawers and left the house again.
Only then did Totoca touch my arm. “You’re mean, Zezé. Mean as a snake. That’s why...”
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