He took a long sip of lemonade. “How old are you?”
“Five. Six... Five.” “Five or six?” “I still haven’t turned six.”
“Well, you’re a nice, intelligent little boy.” “Does that mean we can meet up again next Tuesday?”
He laughed. “If you wish.” “I do. But I’m going to have to arrange it with my sister.
She’ll understand. Actually, it’s good, ’cause I’ve never been to the other side of the tracks.”
“How do you know I go there?” “I wait for you every Tuesday, sir. One Tuesday you come and the next one you don’t.
So I figured you go to the other side of the tracks.”
“Clever boy! What’s your name?” “Zezé.” “I’m Ariovaldo. Shake.
He took my hand in his calloused hands so we’d be friends until death.
It wasn’t hard to convince Glória. “But Zezé, once a week? What about school?”
I showed her my notebook and my handwriting was all neat and meticulous.
My grades were excellent. I did the same with my maths book.
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