Date: Tue, 21 May 2002 13:41:40 -0400
From: Tom Cup <tom_cup@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Innocents Part 2 Chapter 6 by Richard Dean

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The Innocents
By Richard Dean
Part 2
Chapter 6
Walking Death

Paulo's Remembrance Continues:

As Gran served us breakfast, she asked what we had planned for the day.
Toninho answered her query in his eager, excited vocalization.

"Paulo and I are going to Central Rio to see if we can locate some of my
friends or acquaintances."

"What? Why for God's sake? Paulo I'm surprised at you. You're going to allow
this child to associate with those hoodlums? I don't think Ricardo would be
at all pleased about this. I certainly don't approve of this at all."

In an attempt to be calm in my answer, I replied, "Well, Gran, Ton and I
have been talking for quite some while about the plight of the street
children. He has told me things that alarm me. This is a fact- finding
mission for myself. Ton is concerned about the security and danger that some
of his friends confront on a daily basis. I'll be with him all of the time,
he will be in no danger, and he won't be "associating" with them, as you put
it. I know you, Gran. If someone you knew seemed to be in trouble, you would
want to find out the reason why and see if you could help in some small way
to alleviate their difficulty or hardship, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, of course, but I'm an adult."

"As am I, Gran. Toninho is nearly an adult in my mind, and Ricardo's mind,
I'd venture to guess. To allay your fears, I ask that you join us. If you
feel at any time that Toninho is in danger, you can put a stop to this
immediately. Will that be all right with you?"

"Well...yes."

"Ton? Will you agree to this plan of action?"

"Hell yeah, Paulo, lets go!"

"Antonio!" Gran rebuked, "You need your mouth washed out with soap. Stop
that! It's indecent and not respectable language for a young man of your
breeding. I won't have it. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, Ma'am." He replied sheepishly, while winking at me.

"Good. I'll change my clothing while you boys clean up the breakfast things.
I need to do some shopping anyway while we're out. And I'll have my two
strong boys to help carry the purchases. Paulo, make certain the gardener
looks after things while we're gone. Oh no, the maid is coming today, and I
haven't had time to get things tidied up yet. If you boys left your dirty
clothes lying all around your rooms, I'll have your young asses for it."

"Gran!" The last remark of hers got Toninho and myself giggling. We both
knew she never realized she had used "improper language" as she rushed out
of the breakfast room to change.

On the drive to the Centro, Toninho recounted the horrors and difficulties
most of the street children endured and encountered. During his enlightened
discourse, Gran could be heard interjecting phrases such as: "What? Say
again? Well, I never... Dear Lord Jesus. Can it be true, Antonio? This is
appalling. But they're babies! Oh no, Dear God, no! The little girls too?
Policemen? Murderers? Business owners pay them to do these things?" By the
time we got "Herbie" parked and paid a couple of children to watch him,
while we left, Gran's face was ashen in the shock of new discovery. Soon,
however color came back to her cheeks in anger and was ready to storm the
city administration offices. We held the dear lady back as Toninho spotted
several children he knew. He rushed to them and was talking with them in
back and forth questions and answers, while we stood ten paces away from
them.

"Paulo I must sit down. Lets go to that little café over there. We can still
keep an alert eye on Antonio from there. I must have a cafezinho. I wish it
were in the afternoon. I could have something stronger because I need
something stronger, but since I'm not a drinking woman, I'll get by with a
strong cafezinho, eh?"

Seated at a table and order given, she said: "Paulo, what can we do? Do you
think Ricardo is aware of this? No matter. We must do something. Do you
think picketing or a protest march would stop this insanity, this barbarism?
This is like the Holocaust. But in Brasil?"

"Gran, this is something bigger than what we can do, I think. If Ricardo is
aware of the severity of this, I couldn't say. He told me once, when he
first saw Toninho, his heart fell into his lap. Ton, was so bedraggled, so
needy and seedy looking, he could have been a scarecrow. I was trying to
shoo him away, yet Ricardo told me in no uncertain terms to leave him alone,
take him to the washroom, let him clean himself as well as he could, and
bring him back. You know how strongly Ricardo uses his voice and words, when
he clips them into individual words, one immediately knows he means
business. Well he did that day, to me, his friend. I knew he meant
business."

"Ah yes, he has done that to me on several occasions," she giggled, "I knew
I was in the presence of a true dominator. No argument. No discussion.
Abject compliance is what he demanded. Yet you knew he still loved you. I
wanted him to enter Antonio in a Catholic school. He would have none of it.
He said he wanted him to have an education that would expose him to all
sides of the equation, not on a one-sided biblical education. I immediately
knew what he was saying. He is a wise man, Paulo. We need to get his advice
and counsel on this topic, I think. I also think we need write him and
prepare him."

"Good idea, Gran. How about if each of the three of us write him, from our
own point of view, so that he can make an intelligent rational decision as
to how to proceed. Individually we may not agree about certain points.
Collectively, I think we can make an impact, in some small way."

"My handsome boy, you're starting to think and act like Ricardo. It's a good
thing. You stopped me from protesting this little trip, but including me in
it. You're becoming a wise man, Paulo. I love you for that, among other
things. Being the big brother to our Antonio makes me so proud of you, I
could burst."

"Look, Gran, see how Ton, is hugging them, smoothing their hair, wiping
their tears. Do you think we should walk over there?"

"No. Our baby boy has grown up, Paulo. He'll know what to do. Only he will
know how to handle these children. He knows how to talk to them. He knows
how they live. He knows their fears, their hunger. I think he'll slip them
some money so they will eat today, at least. Our job is to be concerned
about their tomorrow and the following tomorrows, God willing."

"Are you saying, you are willing to be committed to work on a solution,
Gran?"

"I'm saying, Paulo, I'm committed to work for a solution. The solution may
be out of our hands, but it doesn't mean we can't also work for justice.
Someone must pay, legally, for this conspiracy of atrocities against these
babies. If its businessmen, so be it; if its policemen, so be it; if its
criminals or thugs, so be it. I'll be damned if I can sit comfortably in our
beautiful home knowing people are afoot working for the elimination of these
young lives. It's unacceptable to me. It should be unacceptable for any
living human being especially within Brasil."

In short order Toninho joined us at the café. We had lunch there and talked
more about the dilemma of these innocent children, no matter their ages. We
agreed they needed lots of help and assistance, medical aid, housing, job
training and placement for the older, and education for all. They also were
entitled to have a loving, safe environment in which to be nourished. That
takes money, lots of it. We had little for such a monumental task.

We arrived back home well after dark, tired and in defeat. Toninho had taken
us to places which were so foul, so odiferous to man or beast, that we were
sickened. He took us into the subway tunnels and sewers where scores of
children lived in subterranean dungeons sharing their lives and what little
possessions they had with rats and other vermin. He took us to makeshift
cardboard shelters that did little to protect the children from the rains,
where all contained within were sodden, damp and little comforted. At times,
Toninho had to restrain Gran from attacking young men who were using little
girls for their sexual pleasures and masochistic demands. Many of those
children had a distorted view of sex as a family experience. Rape was not
unknown nor frowned upon by many of the older boys upon younger girls or
boys. We had given all of our money to the children Toninho knew. It
wouldn't last long, as the hungry bodies were everywhere, demanding,
pleading, and begging. We knew there would be little sleep that night
without dreams of untold horrors and stories, which we heard firsthand. We
saw evidence of broken hands, bones, and open wounds with discharges that
oozed and suppurated. We saw some children so emaciated that the scenes of
the death camps of the Nazis came to our minds. We viewed children so
malnourished that their eyes and bellies were distended; little hair was
left on the heads of either gender. We encountered children who were gasping
their last breaths. We tripped upon several children who had been dead for
some while, as they were stinking and puffed ready to burst open as the
gases within built up. "Herbie" on several occasions was used as an
ambulance to transport some of these children to emergency wards for
treatment, if any was to be had. On two occasions we had to pay the
attendants first before they would even cart them off to triage. It was and
is a living hell.

Upon arrival home we immediately bathed trying to eliminate the stench,
dirt, filth and odors that lingered on our bodies and clothing. Gran
collected all of our clothing and shoes, and disposed of them in the trash
bin. They were stained and soiled so badly she felt that it would do little
good to wash them to wear another day. Clean once again, but with the soiled
visions of scenes running rampant through our minds we vowed we would each
write a letter to Ricardo.

Ricardo would be home two days before Christmas. We knew we would have to
put on a brave face on his arrival, but deep within we were in grief:
Toninho for the loss of several of his acquaintances whom the death squad
has assassinated; Gran, could be heard crying in her suite filled with
remorse of the dead, the near dead, and the living dead; and myself for the
loss of innocence, not only of Toninho and Gran, but of the survivors who
had to face the dread of another day in their colorless lives, their broken
dreams, shattered ideals and the deficit of life on the streets and all it
entailed.


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