Colossal Youth Page #4

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Mama thinks

you'll make it back there.

Me... I don't know."

"Nha cretcheu, my love,

meeting again

will brighten our lives

for at least 30 years.

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.

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.

Did my letter arrive safely?

Still no word from you.

Maybe soon.

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.

Sometimes I get scared

building these walls,

me with a pick and cement,

you with your silence,

pushing you ever deeper

into a pit of forgetting.

It hurts to see these things

I don't want to see.

Your lovely hair slips

through my fingers like dry grass.

Sometimes I grow weak

and think I'll forget."

Good morning.

We're really having trouble

with the keys.

But we'll get it worked out.

How did you get in?

The door was open.

- Is it just you again today?

- Just me.

Better that way.

Second floor, to the right.

You can see

it's a large living room:

of solid construction.

There's room for a sofa set,

a liquor cabinet, a TV.

It would make a great room

for socializing.

This move is important

for our future.

This neighborhood has

a kindergarten for the little ones,

an activities center

for the older children,

social services for everyone,

a health care center, a library,

an ice-skating rink,

and a police station.

It's full of spiders.

This bedroom is perfect

for you and your wife.

Usually the wife comes along

to see the place.

Usually the whole family comes.

All that's left is to discuss

some rights and duties of residents:

Unpaid rent means eviction.

Unpaid water bill

means no showers.

Unpaid gas bill

means no cooking.

Unpaid electricity bill

means no light.

Above all, no dealing

of any kind on the premises.

Is that clear?

Everything all right?

The city has nothing larger.

Five rooms

is the best we can do.

How many children

do you have anyway?

I don't know yet.

Yes?

- Does it work?

- Yes.

Good luck.

Thank you.

Papa, keep to yourself

what I'm going to tell you.

I made a pledge

to take my daughter

to Ftima... -

but don't tell anyone.

I won't.

I want to go on a group excursion

with someone from around here.

I promised that if she was born healthy,

and if I got clean,

I'd take her to Ftima.

I'll come along

and pay for the trip.

The cripple wants to go too.

He keeps telling me so.

I help him out with the stamps

off cigarette packs.

The state already gave him a leg.

This time, it's for a motorcycle.

He needs two pounds

of these things to get a motorcycle.

Someone who didn't really need it

would get it in no time,

but since he really needs it... -

My methadone

is from the state too.

The other day,

the state lost the key to the safe.

They had to call in the army...

to get us our methadone,

'cause we were in a bad way.

They finally showed up.

I hope they learned their lesson.

They should always leave two vials.

It has to be locked away.

It's more precious than gold.

It's true.

More precious than gold.

I have to lower my dose again,

'cause I'm sweating too much.

I cut it down to 40,

but I have to go even further.

I've had enough suffering.

You can't imagine what

my husband and I have been through.

No one would do

what he's done for me.

I mean no one.

I'd find him crying alone at night.

It's true.

He sold everything

so I wouldn't suffer

without the f***ing drugs.

TV, stereo, DVD player,

at least seven cell phones,

gold, everything.

Every last bit of it.

The day I had Beatriz,

we had no money

because of the f***in' drugs.

We had to take the bus,

the 155 bus

that goes to the hospital.

And me in such pain... -

Mother of God!

I've made a mess of everything.

She was born so tiny.

She looked like a little mouse,

with her skinny

little arms and legs.

The lord and master is home.

We ate already.

We didn't feel

like waiting around for you.

Papa, want some fruit?

- I'm full.

Did you come to eat with Vanda?

It's pork chops.

Try to borrow your boss's van

so we can get rid of this sh*t.

I'm sick of looking

at those sofas.

Papa, I don't know what I see there.

Looks like ghosts.

Like a woman or a girl.

White shapes... moving around,

sitting down, standing up.

My daughter sees them too.

She never comes in here alone.

She's scared.

I have to get rid of this junk

to buy new stuff.

Same for the bedroom furniture.

It's all falling apart.

The bed creaks something awful.

If I had the money,

I'd buy all new stuff.

One day I found

a little white table downtown,

brand-new.

If it had been nearby,

I'd have brought it home.

It had two panes of striped glass.

Really pretty.

When I went back, it was gone.

And I found a box

with a light like this one inside,

but even bigger and newer.

He wouldn't let me take it.

Thinks he's a rich man.

He's ashamed of everything.

I'm not. When I'm alone,

I pick stuff out of the trash.

Papa, what happened

to your old furniture from Fontanhas?

Clotilde smashed it all up... -

or a woman

who looked just like her.

What happened?

She smashed everything

before she walked out.

Didn't leave a thing,

not even the suitcase.

A new black suitcase.

She took everything?

Where do you sleep?

On the floor.

Clotilde destroyed our iron bed.

So that's how it is...

Did you two fight?

She stabbed me in the hand

with a knife.

Don't cross the silverware.

You want more?

Had enough?

Papa, want some fruit?

I'm full.

Are you married to Vanda?

Some apple?

Okay.

Lento, is that you?

Lento!

Come and learn this.

"Nha cretcheu, my love,

meeting again will brighten

our lives for at least 30 years.

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.

But most of all,

drink a bottle of good wine

and think of me."

Could you please open the door?

I'm the guy who comes by

now and then.

I've come to ask for a little help.

If you could help me out...

- Paulo?

- I'd be very grateful.

Sorry to bother you.

A guy came around asking

for 5,000 escudos for your funeral.

I wanted to give him something,

but your mother said no.

My mother...

My leg's still weak.

No more crutches, Paulo?

That guy's pathetic.

I taught him

everything he knows.

Addresses, streets,

buzzers, doors.

He'd always wait downstairs.

I'd go up and ring the doorbell.

"Dona Gina, it's Wednesday.

How are you?"

"Fine, Paulo. Just a minute.

I'll see if I have anything."

And she'd come back

with a bag of rice,

a can of sausages.

Then I'd hit the next floor.

"Dona Teresa, how are you?

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