A Greater Love Read Online Free Page A

school.”
    “What about you, Miguel? Don’t you go to school?”
    “Yeah,” he lied smoothly. “Only today I don’t got afternoon classes. Octávia didn’t tell me she was comin’ here.”
    “She mentioned something about some boys bothering you.”
    “She did?” Miguel couldn’t contain his surprise. Was his aunt actually worried about him? Then he remembered the food he’d lost the past week. “She musta wanted to make sure the food got home okay.”
    Senhor Fitas grunted. “I’m sure your aunt was looking out for your best interests.” Miguel must not have appeared convinced because the old man continued, “Do you remember the first time I met you folks a couple years ago?”
    Miguel’s eyes flashed to the huge garbage bin in the alley. “Course I do. We was goin’ through your trash for your bruised fruits and stuff. We’d been doin’ it for weeks before ya caught us. I like it better now that ya leave ’em out in a box for us.”
    “So do I,” Senhor Fitas said. “I kept worrying you’d break a leg or something. But the point is, it’s not an easy thing to raise two children alone, but she’s kept you fed, one way or another. I know she can be a mean old bat sometimes, but mostly that’s the alcohol talking.” He thumped his chest. “In her heart, she’s doing the best she knows how.”
    “I don’t like her much.” Miguel couldn’t believe he dared admit it aloud.
    Senhor Fitas didn’t seem to hate him for saying it. “I don’t expect that she likes herself much either. But you’re getting old enough to understand that sometimes liking doesn’t have much to do with love, or the reasons we do things at all. Why don’t you ask Octávia sometime about the gold necklace she wears inside her sweater?”
    Miguel nodded politely, wondering if the man hadn’t gone senile. Octávia didn’t own a gold necklace, and if she did, she would have sold it like the rest of the jewelry he stole for her.
    “Do it,” the old man urged. “When you get the chance. You never know how … Well, Octávia wasn’t looking good today. I wish she’d lay off the alcohol. It’s just not …”
    While Senhor Fitas talked on, Miguel eyed a cardboard box outside the door. It was full of odd pieces of completely rotten fruit and mushy garbage that wasn’t fit for human consumption, not even for poor people.
    “What’s that?” Miguel asked a long time later during a lull in Senhor Fitas’ dialogue. He pointed at the mushy fruit.
    Senhor Fitas appeared surprised. “That’s nothing you’d be interested in, Miguel. I already picked out what was edible for your aunt.”
    “It ain’t for us,” Miguel said. “Me and a friend, we’re gonna raise us a pig and try to get some meat. We got a place out in the woods where we keep him.” Miguel felt proud of the story. It might be the best lie he’d ever come up with.
    “A pig, eh?” Senhor Fitas said doubtfully. “Well, I guess you can have it. Pig slop is about what it’s good for, if it has any value at all.”
    “Thanks!” Miguel dived for the box before the man could change his mind. “My pig thanks you, too. Maybe I’ll bring him to meet ya one day.”
    Senhor Fitas gave him a strange look. “Yeah, sure. That’d be fine. We’ll see you in a couple days, Miguel.”
    “See ya later.” Miguel ran down the street for a good block before the weight of the box made him slow. His breath came rapidly, but he continued to hurry as fast as he could. By the sun’s fading light, he knew it had grown late. As usual, Senhor Fitas had talked too long. Would Paulo be waiting as planned?
    It was a long way home, and as the darkness stole over the city, Miguel shivered and coughed more often. He hoped Sara was already at the shack and that she’d kept warm in her black wool skirt and sweater. Underneath the wide weave sweater, he always made her wear his outgrown T-shirt and another old sweater, a dull green color.
    “Boo!”
    Miguel started and