Colossal Youth Page #3

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downtown.

I earned 1,800 escudos

every two weeks.

At the barracks

a parrot would sing,

"N*gger, n*gger, stinky face!"

I left to work

for Gaudncio Construction.

They sent me here

to the Gulbenkian Museum.

I earned 7,500 escudos,

plus overtime,

or 16,000,

plus the Christmas bonus.

This was all brushwood here.

Me and Correia, the mason, cleared out

the brushwood and eucalyptus

and laid down sewer pipes.

Me and Antnio, the tiler,

laid the stone and tiles.

It was a carpet of frogs here... -

thousands of them.

One day we set up the statues

of Mr. Gulbenkian and the penguin.

They were in the middle

of a big patch of dirt.

We planted grass

to make it prettier.

We watered it.

They say Mr. Gulbenkian

has lots of oil...

and lots of heirs.

Guarding this isn't like guarding

the open-air market back home.

Here you wield an iron hand

in a velvet glove.

There, it's just an iron hand.

Nothing but poverty.

Blacks, whites, gypsies,

old people, children... - everyone steals.

So much hunger and sadness

it makes you feel bad.

I know what I'm talking about.

Here it's another world.

An ancient, untroubled world.

No one shouts or runs

or spits on the floor.

It's nice and easy.

I can even take a little nap.

So afternoons here

in Egyptian Art are sacred to me.

It's trouble when someone

like you turns up.

But you don't see people

like you or me here often.

We're left in peace.

I have to make a living.

I became a father last month.

- Your first child?

- Yes.

Boy or girl?

A girl. Her name's Tha:is.

I took a spill over there.

Slipped and fell off the scaffold.

- Wanna play a hand?

- I'm gonna make some food.

Come and play.

I'm gonna make an egg sandwich.

Want one?

Sit down and play.

Get this into your head.

"Nha cretcheu, my love...

meeting again

will brighten our lives

for at least 30 years."

You need some rest.

"I'll return to you

renewed and full of strength.

I wish I could offer you

a dozen fancy new dresses,

a car,

that little lava house

you always dreamed of,

and a 40-cent bouquet."

Don't tire yourself out.

"But most of all,

drink a bottle of good wine

and think of me.

The work here never stops.

There are over

a hundred of us now.

Two days ago,

on my birthday,

I thought about you

for a long while.

Did my letter arrive safely?

Still no word from you.

I'm still waiting.

I'm still waiting.

Every day, every minute,

I learn beautiful new words

just for you and me,

tailor-made for us both

like fine silk pajamas.

I can only send you

one letter a month.

Still no word from you.

Maybe soon."

You're a good player.

You always win.

Lucky you had your hard hat on.

- Why?

- You didn't hurt your head.

A green pen and a black pen.

I'm hungry. Aren't you?

Raise your arms

and shout "Freedom!"

Shout, O independent people

Shout, O liberated people

July 5th means freedom

July 5th, the road to happiness

Shout "Long live Cabral!"

Freedom fighter for our nation

Mama.

Mama okay?

Mother of God...

Silly...

Mama's sick, sweetie.

See how my daughter asked,

"Mama okay?"

It's like she's asking,

"Are you okay, Mama?

Are you okay?"

My little girl...

Mama just wants to raise you.

Then they can take me away.

It's okay. I'm better now.

Look at your little booties.

Look at your little suitcase,

sweetie.

I went to visit

my other daughter earlier.

- Who's that?

- Bete.

Is she still in Fontanhas?

She's waiting for housing.

She likes shrimp just like you.

- Oh yeah?

Was she having some?

No, not today,

but she eats them a lot.

She really likes them.

Then we'll have to get together

and buy a few pounds.

We'll stuff ourselves.

That's for sure.

Next time I see her, I'll tell her.

See, Papa, just three squirts of this

and it goes away.

Then use it all the time.

No, that's bad for you.

It's just that when

the room feels all closed up,

I get panicky.

It's like that

when you can't breathe.

I can't ride in elevators.

I do anyway,

but it scares me.

It scares me, I don't know why.

I shake all over.

It's right here, sweetie.

Listen to Mama, baby.

Mama's turning it on.

But when Franklin comes on,

I'll turn it off, all right?

My little girl asks me, "Mama okay?"

Poor little thing.

Because she feels what I feel.

That's why she... -

Dance, baby, dance!

Dance. Shake your butt.

Like this.

Show me.

Show me.

No, this part here.

She's worried.

She can tell I'm hurting.

Look at her little face.

Baby, Franklin is almost on.

Mama's sick.

You know what Mama... -

Bia, look at Mama.

Mama doesn't think

she'll be able to raise you.

Look at her dance.

Dance, baby!

How did Mama teach you?

Mama can't raise her child.

Mama is sick.

Sing, baby.

Ah, your mouth is full,

little piggy?

Dance, baby.

She's upset.

She sees how sick I am.

Look... - Franklin!

Let's turn this off now, okay?

All over.

Look at Franklin.

- Papa, it's Franklin.

- There he is.

My little flower,

I love you like I love my mother

I love you dearly

For our happiness

You know you have a dead son.

Do you remember his name or age?

The one who drifted through

the neighborhood, from door to door.

No one helped him.

The other day,

I had breakfast at the food stand.

There were some workers there.

They were discussing

a construction site in Porto

and mentioned a worker

named Nhurro who worked in Porto,

but I don't believe

my brother is alive.

Remember when you were

digging up potatoes

and you cut him with the hoe?

You like this living room set?

I have a nice bedroom set too.

I don't need one.

Are you clean, Nhurro?

I'm not the same Nhurro

you knew back there

in that shantytown.

But really clean... -

no one can claim that.

Clean means

three meals a day,

no more stealing

or parking cars...

having a decent job,

knowing all the tricks.

Did they tear Fontanhas down?

It's just empty lots,

weeds and rats.

They relocated everyone?

Bete's the only one left.

I'm here with you,

but my mind is back there...

with my mother.

She stopped drinking

three weeks ago.

She's going through withdrawal.

She called and said,

"When are you coming to visit?

When are you coming

to see your mother?"

I keep telling her,

"Mama, it's hard right now.

There's no one

to fill in for me at work.

But the first chance I get,

I'll come see you."

And she says,

"Son, the cachupa is on the stove.

I'm sitting here waiting for you."

She's already been relocated.

I have to get her water

and electricity hooked up...

put in some lights...

a water heater, stove,

washing machine,

some carpeting,

and give it a good cleaning.

My father called too.

"Son, I've got my ticket

for a week from now."

"Wait, Papa.

I'll come help you call a taxi...

carry your luggage,

get you to the airport...

help you check in...

weigh your luggage

since you can't read.

Then, if we have time,

we'll go for a beer,

just father and son.

I know you've always hoped

to return to Cape Verde to die.

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