But I wanted to be nice. “This is a fine cart, Seu Aristides.”
“It does the job.” “And that’s a fine donkey. What’s his name?”
“Gypsy.” He wasn’t in the mood for chit-chat. “Today’s a big day for me.”
“This is my first time on a cart. And I’ve seen Manuel Valadares’s car and heard the Mangaratiba.”
Silence. Nothing. “Seu Aristides, is the Mangaratiba the most important train in Brazil?”
“No. It’s the most important one on this line.” It was no use.
How hard it was to understand grown-ups sometimes!
When we got to the house, I handed him the key and tried to be polite: “Would you like me to help with anything, sir?”
“You can help by staying out of our way. Go play and we’ll call you when it’s time to head back.” So I did.
“Pinkie, now we’re always going to live near each other.”
“I’m going to dress you up so beautifully that no other tree will hold a candle to you.”
“You know, Pinkie, just now I rode on a cart so big and smooth that it felt like one of those coaches that you see in the cinema.”
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