City of God (30 page)

‘We're here to tell you somethin'. D'you know there's gonna be a rock festival on a farm over in Magé?' asked Gabriel.

‘No,' replied Thiago.

‘Fuck! How can you not know, man? More than thirty rock ‘n' roll bands … There's ads on Mundial Radio all the time … You're so out of touch! Everyone's thinkin' ‘bout goin' on Friday and only comin' back on Sunday. We came to see if we could take that tent of yours if you're not goin', know what I'm sayin'? Fuck, man – a whole bunch of girls goin' to a farm! Aren't ya comin'? I'm takin' ten bundles of dope and I'm gonna get shitfaced three days in a row …' said Gabriel excitedly.

‘You know what there's shitloads of at these festivals? Mushroom tea. You drink a cup, smoke a spliff, pop a handful of pills and get shitfaced, man! I'm in, OK? But my tent's only big enough for two. We need …'

‘No way, man – your tent's got room for ten, easy! All we gotta do is find two more, get a couple of gas lamps, buy some tins of food, loaves of bread … And we need to see who's goin' so we can get things movin'. So let's have a look at this tent, then. Is it in good nick? C'mon, let's check out the tent, OK?' Gabriel rubbed the palms of his hands together as he talked, a cheerful
smile stamped across his face. His black curly hair covered his shoulders and goosebumps covered his thin, springy body as he talked about the things he was going to do. He offered Thiago a hand up.

They walked to Thiago's house with Gabriel making travel plans and calculating how much they'd spend over the three days. They had to tell Katanazaka, Rocket, Marisol, Daniel, Bruno, Leonardo, Breno, Sir Paulo Carneiro, Rodrigo, Chevy and all the girls.

They set up the tent in Thiago's backyard. Thiago completely forgot about his girlfriend. All they had to do was stitch up a tear on the left side and that was it. They rolled a joint, then went to Álvaro Katanazaka's place to tell him about the trip, their spirits even higher because they were out of it. They made plans while eating the gnocchi that Mrs Katanazaka had prepared. In the evening, they told their friends about the trip and what they still needed to do so it would happen. They didn't want to lug too much weight around. The girls would carry the dope, Rocket had a tent and would borrow two more from his schoolfriends, Daniel had a gas camp cooker and everyone would take lots of blankets, because the place was cold. It was all set – if everything in the world could be resolved like that no one would have any problems. They went out to smoke a joint on a street a reasonable distance from Katanazaka's house, used eye drops so they wouldn't give themselves away and went back to eat more gnocchi.

Marisol arrived at Katanazaka's house shortly after Thiago, Gabriel and Tonho had returned. Thiago thought about Adriana, but Marisol's presence reassured him somewhat; now he knew Adriana was not with Marisol. He barely spoke to him, however, and from time to time looked him up and down offhandedly, but without letting his eyes rest for long on his rival,
who didn't notice his feigned indifference. They played pinball until well after midnight.

Thiago woke early, although he had gone to bed late. As always, he got ready to go for his jog. He took the same route as he had the previous day, but didn't follow his girlfriend. He waited for her to arrive in Main Square. They walked to the bus stop, where they arranged to meet again in front of her school. This time Thiago arrived a few minutes before school got out, wearing his second-best clothes, duly perfumed and armed with chocolates and chewing gum. He didn't put his arms around his girlfriend while he talked about the rock ‘n' roll festival, trying to convince her to go. Although he was talking a lot, he watched the other men going past and stuttered whenever someone's eyes lingered on her, then pretended nothing had happened and kept talking. He stopped off at the same bar to buy a cigarette, and also bought two bottles of soft drinks, put four straws in each bottle and went to the door of the bar, where his girlfriend was waiting for him. He drank his soft drink keeping a certain space between them. To put even more distance between them he walked over to the farthest person he could to ask for a light, then got him talking by asking him something or other, and out of the corner of his eye watched his girlfriend, who smiled when a guy from school went past, said something, ran his hand across her neck and stroked her hair. Thiago galloped from the bar with the bottle poised so he could bring it down with all his strength on the fuckwit's head. The boy spun and fell to the ground, completely stunned. Before he could even get up, Thiago kicked him in the face and paced around his bloody, unconscious body. It all happened so quickly that Adriana froze, her eyes bulging and her mind straining to understand what had happened. A circle of people quickly formed around the student. Two men tried to grab Thiago,
who tugged at Adriana in an attempt to leave with her, but a crowd had surrounded him, making it impossible for him to escape with her. He planted a left hook on the ear of the guy closest to him, ducked and dodged to slip the others and used the bottle to threaten those who tried to follow him. He got on the first bus that went past, while Adriana went to her friend's aid.

At the third stop, Thiago left the bus through the back door, threw away the bottle and wondered where to go. He thought about going back to get Adriana, but no – perhaps it was better to wait for her at home. The right thing would be to wait in the square, or he could take a bus past the scene of the incident to see what had happened. Could the guy have died? He began to realise he'd fucked up, his hot sweat slowly went cold, and an emptiness pulsed through his spine. Stupid, he'd done something stupid. How many times had he stroked a female friend's hair? How many times had he greeted girls with kisses? Girls who were, incidentally, also Adriana's friends. He regretted what he'd done. He waited there until a bus went past going to City of God.

‘Have you lost it? Do you see what you did? You almost killed the guy! Never, ever look me in the eye again!'

‘I thought it was that guy from the dance comin' onto you – I couldn't tell he was wearing a uniform! If I'd known he was your friend, I wouldn't've done nothin' …'

‘Didn't you see he was from my school when he was on the ground?'

‘I saw red, I didn't see a thing, I … I …'

‘Stop lying, Thiago! You've been acting all jealous since yesterday – I've only just realised …'

‘Jealous? What you talkin' about? I was just tryin' to help you and you go and turn your back on me. Fine! Forget it, then. I'm outta here …'

Thiago went down an alley, feeling even more defeated because his lie hadn't worked. Short steps, head down, hands in pockets, eyes full of tears. He'd gone and acted like a guard dog and ended up losing Adriana. What idiocy, what stupid jealousy, but if he talked to Patrícia Katanazaka, Adriana's best friend, sticking with his lie, showing how much he regretted what he'd done, maybe she'd talk to Adriana on his behalf. He had to make up with her before the trip. It was too risky to go off and leave that gorgeous thing alone in the middle of a bunch of men, especially now she'd started smoking dope. Some fuckwit would promptly offer to roll her a joint, then stick his dick in. He'd lie low for a while, then he'd go have a chat with Patrícia Katanazaka, and would even go as far as to cry in front of her if he had to. He went to Teresa's den, bought a bundle of dope and strode home.

He locked the entire house up from the inside, rolled an enormous joint and bitterly remembered the details of the incident. If he could turn back the clock, he wouldn't even go meet her after school.

‘Oh God, Adriana has to be mine again … What man isn't a fool for a woman? Just them northerners and niggers, who only pick up dogs. Anyone who had her would be jealous, of course they would! Let's see if she can find a boyfriend that loves her more than me … No way is she gonna find one and you know what, God? It's not just because she's gorgeous and sexy. She's sensual, it's the way she comes, her soft hands, the way she talks, dances, asks me for things. Please, God! Bring her back to me!'

Eight months, just eight months together had made him sick with love, insanely jealous. He sobbed, leaning his head against the wall.

* * *

‘He cried so much he could hardly speak at times. I've never seen Thiago like that! I was scared he might even keel over. He talked so much! He said you didn't believe him and that he was only trying to protect you. He swore on his mother's grave that he was tellin' the truth …'

‘But he could see the guy was from my school, he was so close, for God's sake! He hit the guy over the head with a bottle, then kicked him in the face. I haven't got the nerve to go back to school. I told everyone I didn't even know him. Just as well no one saw me with my arms around him … But tell me! Did he really cry in front of you?'

‘He bawled his eyes out! You should've seen him; if I was you I'd go talk to him.'

Making up was easy: Thiago cried on his girfriend's shoulder, but she forbade him to pick her up from school, which he agreed to immediately. She told him she didn't like this business of resolving things by fighting, that even the fight at the dance had been unnecessary. She was afraid someone might get hurt and had even thought her schoolfriend was dead. Thiago nodded his head at the end of each sentence, with a feigned acquiescence that even fooled himself.

By Wednesday at Katanazaka's house, everything was practically ready for the trip. They were to leave Friday night. All they had to do was pool the money to buy supplies, exchange the gas cylinder, rustle up thirty bundles of weed, three packs of pills and talk about the cocaine that Marisol was insisting on taking. He said that in the United States all young people smoked and snorted, and the United States ruled:

‘You can see it's the greatest nation in the world, and it's the country that's got the most heads. I mean, fuck, all their stuff is better than ours – jeans, rollerskates, skateboards, watches and heaps of other shit. And people here think they're hot shit,
pah! … There's where it's happening, you know. You see Woodstock? Hot chicks everywhere, shooting up, snorting their heads off, smoking huge spliffs. Days and days of pure rock ‘n' roll, man! In the United States they don't arrest heads. People even smoke in bank queues. So if listenin' to rock ‘n' roll when you're out of it on weed is a huge trip, imagine what it's like when you're shitfaced on coke. I'd rather tell the guys to forget this crap of buyin' tinned food and spend everythin' on coke, know what I'm sayin'?' As he finished he had a smile on his face, and so did everyone who was listening.

‘I wanna have a snort too, but we've gotta have a decent amount, know what I mean? It's gotta be a good high. Like in that Gilberto Gil song: “The more glitter, the better”.'

‘Gil's the biggest head, ain't he? He was arrested down south with a shitload of weed on him …'

‘It wasn't just him! Caetano, Bethânia and Gal too … Those women're huge heads too …'

‘Seen the film?'

‘Sweet Barbarians?'

‘Yeah.'

‘No.'

‘Rocket's seen it and he said Gil takes the piss out of the chief inspector, big time.'

‘Does the film show him getting thrown in the slammer?'

‘Yeah.'

‘Ah … Then it's just for publicity.'

‘What d'you mean publicity, man? You tellin' me that Gil, Gal, all them guys from Bahia don't smoke? Gil's the biggest head. But I dunno … I don't like his music that much. I reckon it's a bit …'

‘Rocket loves it.'

‘Did he get the tent?'

‘Hey! Rocket said there's a shitload of rich kids at his school that smoke dope at the theatre, at concerts – whenever those guys do a concert, everyone smokes their heads off.'

‘Janis Joplin died of an overdose, didn't she?'

‘So did Jimi Hendrix … Remember when the teachers handed out that flyer with their pictures saying they'd died of an other-dose.'

‘Not other-dose! It's o-ver-dose, you fuckwit!'

‘That's when everyone got curious and started doin' it.'

‘It was even on
Fantástico,
man!'

‘It's fantastic, cunt of plastic, cock of elastic, the show of li-iife, it's fantastic.'

They'd always heard that rock ‘n' roll was a way of life, not just a type of music, so for that very reason they got out of it on dope, coke, needles and tea during the seventy-two hours of round-the-clock rock ‘n' roll that rollicked along in Magé. They saw huge colourful beasts, lost all notion of time, didn't eat, went around wearing only Bermuda shorts during the three nights of intense cold, did handstands, did somersaults at the waterfall, and danced for five or six hours on end. Some had sex until their genitals bled, they clapped at the beginning of songs and forgot to applaud at the ends of shows, went for hours on end without uttering a single word, danced naked, emptied their bowels in the river they drank from, had the constant impression that they were the happiest people in the world, lost tents, clothes, gas lamps, pots and pans, basically everything they had taken with them.

Rodrigo woke up three days later in the main square of a town he'd never seen before, next to two girls he didn't know, nor did they know him. Marisol only showed up two days after the festival was over, covered in scratches, with a broken tooth.
Gabriel and Tonho found themselves locked up at Leblon police station without the slightest idea of how they'd got there. Over the following days, memories of the festival flashed through the Boys' minds. The next rock festival was going be in Miguel Pereira and none of them could wait. It was going to be wild.

After getting rid of the six people as planned and giving Carrots his orders, Tiny celebrated the success of the operation by firing a hail of bullets into the air in front of Building Seven, where he did the dealing himself until midday. He then sent his men on their way and went to lie low in the flat of his youngest brother, who was away with his wife. He spent the whole afternoon locked away trying to sleep, but his thoughts were quick, making any kind of rest impossible, because no matter what he thought about, his mind kept skipping back to Sparrow. How was he? Would he come back with that permanent smile of his, singing, always singing those funny little songs, those old sambas, walking quickly by his side and making him feel confident in the way that only he knew how? Yes, Sparrow was the only person he considered a friend, the only one who deserved his trust, even though he couldn't even explain to himself why he liked him so much, why he was so fond of him. But if Sparrow didn't make it, his death had already been avenged, and if he lived, he'd get two more dens Up Top, maybe even three. The truth was, he hadn't killed the six purely for revenge; he'd used the incident involving Sparrow so he could do something he'd been planning for some time. He'd taken advantage of the situation so he wouldn't have to convince his pals of the need for the operation. He thought it was better like that, because he wouldn't have to share anything with anyone in any of the dens that were now his and Sparrow's. That was why he'd decided not to tell anyone that he was going to kill the dealers from Up Top all in one go, nor to let anyone
else kill them. He was certain his friends would believe that revenge was the reason behind the bloodbath, because real friends have to avenge one another.