City of God (11 page)

‘How do you know about all this commotion?' asked Green Eyes.

‘I heard it on the radio this morning …'

Hellraiser left Nasty Jorge's place after one o'clock in the afternoon. He found Berenice at the market. He could tell by the way she looked at him that she was his. He planted a kiss on her lips, took her hand and they walked together down Middle Street. Back at home, he asked her to go look for his pals.

‘Pipsqueak must've got caught, man! He still hasn't shown up,' said Carlos.

‘I bet it was him that grassed,' said Berenice.

‘No way, the kid can be trusted. He'd die before he grassed on someone!' said Hellraiser.

The gangsters had dinner, grumbled about not having hit the jackpot, and decided they'd better spend some time away from the estate; the police would continue to be trouble until they killed or caught someone.

‘Truth is, no one knows if Pipsqueak grassed or not,' said Black Carlos.

They went to Salgueiro late in the evening.

On Monday, Saturday's crimes had made front-page news. A couple had been murdered at the motel. There had been no fatalities in the other hold-ups. After spelling his way through the news for his friends, Black Carlos got angry about the death of the couple. Pelé and Shorty stood up for themselves, saying they'd done everything Hellraiser had told them to. But the news emblazoned across the front page of the motel robbery, the death of the baby and the decapitated man gave them the reputation of being courageous and fearless.

‘Gangsters've gotta be famous to be really respected!' Hellraiser told Carlos.

In fact they were all proud to see the motel on the front page. They felt important, respected by other gangsters in the estate and in other
favelas;
it wasn't just anyone who saw his exploits stamped across the front page of a newspaper, and what was more, if they were unlucky enough to get caught, they'd be respected in prison for having pulled off a large-scale robbery. It was a shame their names hadn't been mentioned in the article, but at least it said that it could only have been the gangsters from City of God. Everyone who knew them would know it was them.

‘It's better like that, you know, 'cos if our names were there, we'd have another investigation on our hands.'

Children took over the streets. They spent the mornings selling ice lollies, and the afternoons playing. The school holidays, which arrived together with the heat, were always like that. Stringy and Rocket decided to sell ice lollies that Tuesday. They got the goods on a sale-or-return basis at China's ice cream parlour on Edgar Werneck Avenue, near the estate. Their friends had declined the enterprise. They preferred to tie string to the ends of a broomstick, and throw it into the river to fish out the things washed along by the water. It was much more exciting than plodding around in the sun shouting, ‘Ice lollies for sale!' Fishing in the river for pieces of wood, oil cans, tree branches and all those other things required talent and luck.

Rocket sold his box of ice lollies in a few hours and went to give his mother the money he'd earned. He went through the neighbourhoods of Freguesia, Anil and Gardênia Azul, as well as the streets of the estate. Stringy sold less than a third of his goods. He decided to give his fishing friends ice lollies and consumed his merchandise while having the odd go on the broomstick. Rocket didn't stay at home long; he'd earned the right to play until whatever time he pleased. He'd passed his end-of-year exams and now worked during the holidays to help out at home.

It was the time of year to go shopping, fix up the house, look after your body and make New Year's resolutions to stop smoking. End-of-year festivities always brought the hope that everything would work out from then on. The kids earned money by selling river sand to construction sites, and ice lollies and bread in the streets. Some boys offered to weed yards and paint houses and flats. Others collected bottles, wire and iron to
sell at the scrapyard. Workers relied on their Christmas bonuses, gangsters on hold-ups and robberies, and Boss of Us All, Beelzebub and the other police officers concerned themselves with beating up dope heads when they busted them, stealing stolen goods from thieves, and demanding protection money from the den owners. The girls who worked the street markets in the South Zone sold their stolen goods personally.

Out Front, stalls were set up selling all manner of products. Pork Joe sold meat from his own pigs behind the Leão supermarket. The stalls gradually took over the main streets of the estate. December 24th. The men started drinking early and put their sound systems out on their window sills when they'd done their last-minute shopping. The women divided their time between domestic duties and visits to the beauty salons within the estate itself. At midnight, families gathered together to cry for the loss of loved ones, then went outside to wish their neighbours a Merry Christmas.

The week passed in a festive atmosphere. Hellraiser, Black Carlos, Pelé and Shorty returned to the estate. They figured the pigs wouldn't bother them right after Christmas.

Niftyfeet, Oriental and Black Carlos decided to rustle up some money in Copacabana on New Year's Eve.

‘The best thing is to concentrate on the gringos. We can hang around the hotel a bit then head over to Leme, right? But we can't stay near the Copacabana Palace the whole time – it'll be crawlin' with pigs,' said Niftyfeet.

Hellraiser gave Berenice money to buy the things they still needed so they could move in together properly. She spent the week asking him to take some time out of his life of crime. He still didn't have a police record and there was no reason why he couldn't get a job. She wanted peace and quiet in order to bring up their kids without any hassles. Hellraiser said he was
going to keep at it until he hit the jackpot so he could set up a big business with lots of employees working under him, while he counted money and gave orders. Then he'd think about kids.

Pelé and Shorty didn't waste time making plans. All they could think about was the five wraps of cocaine they were going to buy to see in the New Year. They told everyone they knew that the best coke was in Curral das Éguas, the neighbourhood above Campo Grande in the West Zone of Rio, and whoever wanted some just had to give them the money because they were going there to buy it on the 31st, as long as they gave them a quick snort. Everyone got really out of it on New Year's Eve and during Carnival. Some people only snorted on these two occasions.

Squirt, Hammer and Cleide arrived on the last day of the year to celebrate the New Year with their friends. Cleide didn't want to go Up Top to get what was left of the furniture from her old place.

‘The thing to do is get loads of money and do what Berenice did – buy everythin' new. Right, gorgeous?'

‘But only after January. Now everyone's spent everythin' and people ain't got two pennies to rub together,' said Hammer, adding that they were going to spend some time at Hellraiser's place until things were sorted out.

The first minute of the New Year arrived. The year of Xangô, winner of disputes, the most powerful
orixá,
god of lightning and fire, king of justice. It was the year to work hard for a stable relationship, health and lots of money. The just would be successful that year.

Before the sun had even set, people had raced for places on buses heading for the beach so they could create a midsummer spring in the night and the sea. They cast flowers into the sea to
bring new currents into the lives of all the children of father Xangô. They sang a verse for each
orixá,
hailing them before the waters of Iemanjá. They set off fireworks for Xangô, the keeper of justice, millions of colours to imitate his brilliance and many prayers to give thanks for his protection.

In City of God, hands were clasped, and words of happiness bathed in wine were uttered. The police did not turn up and there were no fights, gunshots or deaths. The smokers smoked. The snorters snorted. The drinkers drank. Everything in the blessed peace of the year that was beginning.

Being busy with the meetings of the different samba school groups, choosing costumes and rehearsing made January pass quickly. The gangsters got hopping. It was much more important to get money for Carnival than for the end of year celebrations. They held up bakeries, taxis, pharmacies, pedestrians and homes in nearby areas and within the estate itself. Even Niftyfeet took any and every opportunity to get his hands on a bit of dough. Pelé and Shorty were responsible for most of the hold-ups within the estate.

On a scorching Friday, the two of them were walking down Middle Street, outraged at the pittance they'd got holding up the gas truck and shops on The Other Side of the River. They decided to rustle up some more that night. Anyone who didn't have their wits about them was going to end up with empty pockets. They entered an alley and crossed the Prospectors' rehearsal square.

The boys from the carnival group were crouched on a corner playing cards. The idea of holding them up occurred to both Pelé and Shorty at the same time. They looked at one another and nodded to show they were thinking the same thing. The players, absorbed in the game, didn't notice their footsteps. The group
had finished rehearsing a short time before. They had put away their instruments, smoked a joint and were trying their luck at cards. Pelé and Shorty ordered them to stop the game. They said they didn't want any games in the area so as not to attract the pigs. And now that they'd warned them, they were not only going to take the money from the game, but also whatever they had in their pockets. Luís the Tease, who was in the game, got up, looked them firmly in the eyes and said:

‘What's the story, man? You think we're dickheads just 'cos we don't carry shooters? No one here's givin' money to anyone, man! We're here mindin' our own business and you guys come along tryin' to push us around. Fuck off and leave us alone!'

Pelé and Shorty were surprised by Luís the Tease's words. They fell silent for a moment. They instinctively cocked their guns, but before they could point them at Tease, they heard Vidal's voice:

‘It's like this: if you pull your trigger on one of us, you're gonna have to pull it on all of us, right? 'Cos we're gonna beat the shit out of you. We ain't buyin' this gangster crap! And if you kill us all there's still stacks of others to come and settle the score! Everyone here's respected in the area. Just mention the Prospectors and everyone knows who we are. This business of pointin' shooters at us is a joke!'

The others went on in the same way at Pelé and Shorty, who shook to the core. They weren't game enough to kill them all, and felt that the Prospectors might well jump them. Shorty remained frozen, while Pelé argued:

‘That's right – I seen you talkin' with Niftyfeet. You a friend of his?'

‘What if I am, man?' exclaimed Tease.

‘I'm gonna let this go 'cos of that, OK?' said Pelé.

‘So no more messin' us around. You know it'll get ugly for
you lot if there's any trouble, right?' warned Acerola, who until then had only glared at the gangsters.

They headed for Block Thirteen in silence. That episode had violently wounded their definition of themselves – real gangsters can't be pushed around. Especially as the guys had been unarmed. They saw that no one there had been afraid. The terrible certainty of truth, in what both Luís the Tease and Vidal had said, hurt, and not only damaged their status as gangsters, but also as men. Red-blooded men. They'd been afraid of Vidal and Tease's athletic builds. They knew that if they'd been challenged by either one of them to a fistfight, they'd have had the shit bashed out of them. That Acerola could've kept his mouth shut, since everything had already been settled. His threat had really rubbed their noses in it.

Pelé looked at Shorty again, who was walking along with his head down, his gaze marking his next steps. He thought about comforting his friend, without owning up to his own fear. But how to without admitting that they'd had to pussyfoot around with guns in their hands? The only alternative was to lie to himself, and say the only reason they hadn't killed everyone was because of Niftyfeet. He tried to believe his own words as he said they'd have wasted them all if he hadn't known that Niftyfeet would be pissed off. Shorty agreed with his friend without looking him in the eye. He believed the lie as much as his friend did. They said goodbye half-heartedly.

Carnival Saturday arrived with a fine, though constant, drizzle, but it didn't dampen the Devil's party in the streets of Rio de Janeiro. Sunday was the day the festivities really got going with the samba school parades.

Lúcia Maracanã paraded with Portela, Vila Isabel and Unidos do São Carlos as well as the estate's samba school, Acadêmicos da Cidade de Deus, who were in the fifth division for the first time.
Niftyfeet paraded with Salgueiro and Unidos do São Carlos. He could never parade with other schools because his own heart wouldn't let him. For him, Carnival was about more than merrymaking – all year long, he spent his spare time at home practising the samba steps that would dazzle one of the tourists he had robbed the day before the parade.

On Carnival Monday, Niftyfeet paraded effortlessly in the Dragon's Breath carnival group, although not without enchanting the crowds. He liked it when Dragon's Breath ran into the Bigwig of Ramos, its greatest rival, because there was always a brawl. The fight between the members of the groups smashed up bars and destroyed hawkers' stalls. Some took the opportunity to rob people in the audience and the samba played on. The Jará group had promised to help Dragon's Breath if they were around at the time of the fight. They called themselves blood brothers. The Bohemians of Irajá, however, didn't get involved in scuffles. They paraded in the city centre, Madureira and Irajá.

City of God had no funding from the city council, which was why it didn't have a stage in the square. Stoopy, a local shop owner, took it upon himself to make the stage and hire musicians for the estate's Carnival. On the last day of the festivities, the samba school paraded down Main Street, along with the Prospectors and the City of God Angels.