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

Fausto suspicious of the gift examining the treasures
    —Is this worth anything at all?
    shawls, sashes, poppies, plastic vicuñas, my mother trampling those splendors I thought belonged to her
    —Do you wear this, Carlos?
    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, Apollo?
    but no arms, no arms at all, we unfolded the newspaper and a bit of white powder, on the ground by the broken-down wall a lot of lighters, rubber bands, footprints, Rui squeezes the lemon like that way, mixes it in with the water that way, does it that way with the spoon, heats it that way and as soon as it’s boiling a little he ties a rubber band around above his elbow that way, it seemed to me there was a jackdaw in a stone niche
    its head bobbing, spasms in its tail, in just a few minutes I’m a bird, I reach the top of the fig tree all excited but then I’m calm, contented, the needle by the widest vein, don’t be in a hurry with the shot, that way, a kind of heat, a kind of cold, the broken-down wall, the jackdaw, heat in my belly again, inside my chest where my heart wasn’t beating, I was spreading out, losing weight, breaking away from myself, I caught a glimpse of it almost purple in the bird’s nest, what’s your name, what’s my name, tell me what my name is and Rui tightening his rubber band, that way
    —Shut up
    wind where there’s no wind, thirst where there’s no thirst, I can understand everything with the powder Rui, I can understand everything, the words from the jackknife possible to read now, do you want me to read them to you Rui, you’re cold too, you’re hot, you’re
    a jackdaw too, don’t lie down in the mud, head bobbing, tail in spasms, the little bitty fruit on the fig tree, look how my leaves cross over each other, look how I’m growing, don’t lie down by the weeping willows, get up, what’s the reason for your scolding me Rui, don’t scold me, don’t tell me to shut up, the jackknife words say
    —They don’t mean anything they say
    —It’s hard to get them to feel
    They say
    —Go see if the faggot’s kid is still out there
    not one fig tree, two out of the same trunk, Rui covered up the hole the needle had made and the crimson drop
    darker than crimson, crimson is what people think blood is, garnet
    —Shut up
    the Mulatto was going over to a pickup without any tires opening and closing his jackknife, a small click when the blade came out, a small click when it went back in, Dona Helena with me in her arms going off toward the pantry
    —You scared him and he started crying who’s going to quiet him down now?
    the Mulatto rested his sandal on the landing where there was a speck of rain, those remnants of October and the remnants of October while I was counting the gratings in the garden fence, sixteen
    —Not here
    counting again, I wasn’t sure whether it was fifteen or sixteen, I was right, four near us plus seven and plus five, the Mulatto pointing to the city down below
    —Not here
    sure that I’d dreamed this dream yesterday or the day before
    yesterday
    and for that reason, not waking up, I thought
    —Stop worrying I know all that already
    not interested in any episodes I knew weren’t real, the jackknife at my throat, the sandal stepping on me
    —I’m asleep
    and since I’m asleep I don’t worry, everything’s a lie, aware of the pillow sliding between the mattress and the trunk they were slamming me against
    —I don’t have any necklace you can take from me
    Dona Aurorinha with her bag of groceries
    —Paulo
    half an hour for each floor, her huge, exhausted feet
    —Don’t worry you’re doing fine
    walking ahead of me lighting a candle and me following the candle in the dark until Dona Aurorinha tells me
    —Sit down
    in an invisible chair and the two of us stay there, not talking, listening to the sounds of the building and something distant that