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Callaloo 23.4 (2000) 1315-1316



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Brincadeira 1 [Just Kidding 1]

Miriam Alves


Sleepy morning. Joãozinho was walking to school. Not quite awake yet, he held on to his books and notebooks. Everything new, he was ready to start a new school year. Zinho (an endearing pet name Dona Josefa made up) was thinking about how anxiously he had waited for these objects. This would be the first year he'd have all the required materials: Everything nice and brand new, like his classmates'.

He smiled inside. This year he would not stick out in the classroom. He would not have to wait over a month for ugly notebooks and second-hand books given out by the "poor students' fund." Not this year. Everything brand new and clean. Beautiful! Seu Raimundo cared too much. He bought everything on credit. True he would pay interest, but the important thing was his children's education. The older ones had not been that lucky. The three older were barely able to finish grade school before they started helping to earn the daily bread.

Zinho was aware of the responsibility. He had a knack for the thing. The boy was intelligent. And that sleepy morning was bearing witness to his happiness. A shining smile brightened his tiny, black face. His brown eyes were also shining, reflecting a child-like happiness and irradiating the trust deposited on him. He could already foresee the pleasant moment of arranging his books on the desk: this was his student dream.

As he turned the corner, his face reflected confidence and happiness. He was then faced with some older and bigger boys:

"Yo, Mussum, 1 what are you so happy for?"

Zinho liked Mussum but he did not want to be called that. He got angry:

"My name is João."

"What are you so worked up for, Mussum? Want a 'little honey' 2 to cool you down?"

Zinho decided to ignore them and keep on moving. He did not want to be late for class. The big boys, however, blocked his way and pushed his books down: books and notebooks laying scattered all over the muddy street. Seu Raimundo's hard work was covered with red mud. Zinho forgot all about size and age. He raised himself. An ancient strength overflowed inside of him. He raised with the strength of Ogun 3 and armed himself with a piece of wood. Zinho struck one of them on the leg, bringing the boy down. He went on "doing justice": Zinho pushed the Law. Striking. He kept striking and ignored the screams coming from the ground. The other boys tried to cool him down:

"Yo, man. We're just kidding." [End Page 1315]

They tried, in vain, to hold him back. But Zinho would not stop. Striking. Striking. Striking. The beaten boy's face was covered with blood. The whiteness of his skin mixing with the red. Running down on the mud puddle, blood dyed the brand new school books, sticking to the dreams of João, Raimundo and Josefa.

The other two big boys, realizing that the Mussum would not stop, charged against him. Joao embodied the speed of a mad panther. He ran, losing himself in the jungle of the city.

Astonished, the boys picked up their dead buddy. They murmured scattered and crazy whispers:

"Just kidding. We were just kidding."

Translated by Rick Santos



Miriam Alves, who lives in Brazil, is a poet, fiction writer, and literary critic. She is editor of Finally Us, an anthology by and about African-Brazilian women published in the USA. Momentos de Busca and Estrelas no Dedo are her collections of poems. She has also published work in a number of periodicals and anthologies, including Cadernos Negros, Moving Beyond the Boundaries, Criacao Crioula, and Callaloo.

Notes

1. Mussum was one of the few successful, well-known Black t.v.-comedians.

2. In his jokes, Mussum always refers to cachaça (a cheap and strong alcoholic drink) as "Melzinho", i.e. "little honey."

3. In Candomblé, Ogun is the war orixá. He represents strength and...

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