What Can I Do When Everything's On Fire?: A Novel Read Online Free

could lean over his coffin laughing, the old man with the little dog fluttering with indignation
    —Good heavens
    the clown who wasn’t my father fussing with containers, bottles of silicone, cotton balls
    —What about the envelope with the money, Rui?
    searching through the blouse rack, pushing waistbands, headdresses, capes aside, my father’s a man, he knows everything about the Japanese, he knows the names of trees in Latin, he killed buffaloes in Timor, his name is Mr. Couceiro
    —You scared him and he started crying who’s going to quiet him down now?
    we came to a broken-down wall as we left the Cape Verdeans not
    along the road, on a path through the weeds, pieces of a garden fence, what had once been a statue
    Neptune or Apollo?
    but without any arms, a battered mess kit begging
    —Hit me
    I understood her quite well
    —Please hit me
    the same with the oranges falling off the fruit cart and I said
    —We haven’t got time now
    we unfolded the newspaper and there was some white powder, stop it from slipping all the way down the crease, separate part of it, put the other part away, on the broken-down wall a whole lot of lighters, rubber bands, footprints, writing carved with a jackknife impossible to read, we handed over the money through a small door without seeing anybody, we waited a little, received the newspaper, a Mulatto stood guard at the corner opening and closing a jackknife, the palms of his hand were softer than mine, pink with black wrinkles. I thought I was afraid but I wasn’t or maybe just less afraid than I thought I was, studying the powder, maybe it was chalk dust, maybe limestone, how do you do it Rui, show me how you do it, my father’s husband
    not my father’s husband, the clown’s husband, they slept in the same bed and therefore they were married, there’d been others before this one, Alcides, Fausto
    the clown
    —Let me introduce you to Alcides let me introduce you to Fausto up against the Chinese chest where my father was doubled over moaning
    look, my father said, I made a mistake
    —You shitty fag
    he snatched the chain from him, put the chain in his pants and the clown
    —I’m sorry
    Rui’s wife came to Príncipe Real once, railing at them while the tenant on the third floor
    Dona Aurorinha said
    —Miss
    she walked slowly, she never got excited, a half hour for each floor with her bag of groceries, she was breathing hard as her chest tightened
    —It’s all right I’m fine
    she insisted that I taste her guava jam, the rooms were dark because the light bill hadn’t been paid, she lighted a candle
    —Electricity upsets me
    you opened the faucets but not a drop came out
    —I don’t need water I keep myself clean
    the furniture white with mold, a desperate flight of cockroaches, in April an aneurysm carried her off, Rui’s wife at the empty door
    —Come out of there you slimy worms
    she tried to force the lock with a piece of tile and Dona Aurorinha
    —Don’t hurt yourself, Miss
    she kicked the garbage can which rolled down the alley, and went away
    —Slimy worms
    my father
    Mr. Couceiro
    my father?
    my father holding the artificial lashes from one eye in the tweezer, the other one quivering with annoyance
    —Such a bother
    and something else quivering on his face, a tendon or a muscle, his eyes cloudy with cataracts like my grandmother’s, almost falling against the chest without Fausto even hitting him, Dona Aurorinha offering him some guava jam
    —Mr. Carlos
    coming down step by step with heroic difficulty, the clown, arching his pinky, was consoling his annoyance with camomile tea, holding out a cup
    —Would you like some, Dona Aurorinha?
    he was sticking on the artificial lashes before the mirror where
    years before he used to comb his mustache, Alcides or Fausto then, yes, with
    mustaches and my father frying cutlets, wearing an apron, while he gave them his wristwatch, gave them necklaces, hopeful, submissive
    —A remembrance from a friend
    Alcides or