DESPITE EVERYTHING...

By Mônica de Castro and By the Spirit Leonel

In this new novel, the lifestyle of hard-working and humble people changes completely after a family secret that raises doubts and reveals prejudices comes to light.

With complex characters, complex life stories, omissions, love and rancor are some of

• Language: English
• Publisher: World Spiritist Institute
• Release date: Aug 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9781088252000

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

The gray sky foreshadowed a lot of rain the last hours of that Sunday. Leontina quickened her pace, trying to go up to her house before the storm started. With the water rolling, the mud would slide downhill, making it practically impossible to go up to her house without slipping or falling into the mud.

Let’s go, Clementina, said to her sister. There is going to be a downpour.

Strangely, Clementina had stopped in front of a garbage can. She seemed to oscillate between revulsion and curiosity while reaching inside the can with her fingertips. Leontina also stopped and approached her, cursing Romualdo, who was the one who turned her sister’s head into a folly. Certainly, he had threatened to leave again, leaving Clementina to go crazy for no reason. Could it be that not even that night’s service would be worth it to bring some sense into that crazy woman’s head?

But what is it that happened to you, Clementina? she said, trying to pull her sister by her arm. Do you want to be soaked? Look, it’s already lighting.

A bolt of lightning struck nearby, and the deafening rumble of the following thunder made Leontina tremble. She shrugged and cried softly for God, losing her eyes in the sky for a moment, trying to guess where that lightning had struck. She sincerely hoped that it hadn't been near her house. One more bump and the shack would not hold. It would fall down to the ground like a dismantled box.

She turned to his sister, still holding her arm, but before she could say again to her sister to come, she heard a tiny cry from somewhere below them.

Hmm! she exclaimed, impressed. Could it be a soul from another world that is going around here? I think we better go, Clementina. I'm already hearing things.

Be quiet, Leontina! said the other one while exasperated. Is it possible that you still haven't noticed?

I still haven't noticed what?

The question remained in the air and the answer did not come. Following the direction of her sister's finger, Leontina stopped stunned. At the same time, thick raindrops began to fall, and she pressed the Bible against her chest, holding the cry of fear, which she almost did not let out.

My Christian Jesus! She exclaimed at last. Is that what I think it is?

Still without answering, Clementina separated the greasy cloth and carefully removed the twisted little body of a baby. He sobbed softly and was way too weak to express with tears the hunger he felt in his stomach. Clementina handed the Bible to her sister and placed the naked baby on her chest. Immediately, the child began to move his head, as if he was looking for food in Clementina's empty breast.

He’s hungry and cold, she said, protecting him with her own body. And all dirty, with a body full of rash! Come on, let’s take him out of here

Without a word, the two women left the street immediately, beginning the slope that gave access to the hill. The rain was becoming thicker as the time went by, bolts of lightning were everywhere followed by the hellish noise of the storm. When the frightened child began to moan softly, Clementina tried to cover his ears, so that the deafening thunder would not bother him so much.

Fortunately, Clementina's shack was not far away and soon they ran inside it, splashing mud on the cement in the room. Clementina carried the baby into the room and laid him on the bed. He was completely naked and his body was shaking and purple because of the cold.

Poor little thing! Leontina felt sorry for him. Who could have had the courage to do so much evil?

We don't have time to think about it now. Clementina answered while picking a torn blanket from the closet and putting it over the child. The most important thing is to warm him up and feed him.

And what does he eat? He's so little...

He must drink milk. I'm going to warm up some. And also water to wash him.

How are you going to breastfeed him? You need a baby bottle. And who's going to go out in this rain to buy one? Clementina's pleading look said it all, and Leontina objected. Oh, no! No way! I'm not going out in this downpour!

Leontina, please, he's going to die!

You go then. I will stay here and take care of him. I’ll bathe him and everything.

What if Romualdo comes? What are you going to tell him?

That you went to the pharmacy and you’ll come back.

How will you explain about the baby?

I'll say that we found him in the landfill, okay?

Leontina, please. Do it for me, I beg you. I don't want to leave the child alone.

I think we'd better hand him over to the police.

We can think about it later. Now, what it’s important is to feed him. Look at the poor thing. Apart from being purple, he is very thin. Even the ribs are showing on the skin.

Seeing how thin he was, Leontina gave up. She jumped up and said impatiently.

Fine, fine. I’ll go to the pharmacy, but it's you who will pay for the bottle.

With a victorious smile, Clementina took the bag from the top of the closet and opened it, carefully counting the money to make sure that none was missing.

Here, she said, extending the money to her sister. Bring a cheap one. And if they sell diapers there, buy a package too.

Disposable diapers?

Of course not! The disposable ones are very expensive. Bring a pack of cloth ones.

There, Leontina went under the rain to buy the bottle and diapers for the baby. While Clementina was waiting for her, she admired the child and prayed to Jesus to save him. He was such a beautiful baby! He had dark skin, as Romualdo. That baby could be his child. And hers...

The thought came so fast that Clementina hardly noticed it. She was already thinking of the baby as if he was her son. And why couldn't he be his son? His mother had abandoned him, thrown him away in the garbage can. Why couldn't she, who found him, be his mother?

Trying not to think about it, she stood up and searched for water and milk to heat. The milk pot was almost empty, but it was enough to feed the child. She turned on the stove, put the milk in one burner and in another one, a kettle of water. She sat down at the table to wait, watching the baby. From where she was, she could see the room that was next to the living room, which also served as a kitchen. On the other side, a small bathroom and, in the back, a small yard.

There wasn’t so much milk so it quickly warmed up. The water took a little bit longer. Clementina put out the fire, returned to the room with the kettle and poured the warm water into a bowl. The baby's eyes were closed, he was so still that she feared he had died. She put her hand under his nose to feel his breathing which was so weak it seemed as if it would disappear. The bony chest went up and down regularly, though without much vigor. She was afraid he would not resist.

Jesus, please she prayed fervently. Don't let this little baby die. He is so small, so helpless, so pure... Help me take care of him so that he can survive...

Talking to yourself, Tina?

Clementina jumped out of bed and looked at the newcomer in amazement. Romualdo was standing at the doorway, looking at her with red eyes, soaked in liquor. Approaching, he pulled her tightly, kissing her lustfully. She turned her face away, wrinkled her nose and moaned.

Let me go! I can't stand the smell of brandy.

You are always complaining. He replied in a thick and slurred voice.

When Romualdo wanted to throw himself on the bed, Clementina let out a high-pitched scream.

Watch out!

Scared, he looked at the bed. Only then he noticed the baby asleep under the blanket and the water bowl on a chair. It was so small it looked like a bundle of clothes, which he had barely noticed.

What's that? He asked, trying to focus his eyes on the child.

A baby. Don’t you see?

I know. But whose is it?

The answer was so sudden that even Clementina was surprised.

It's mine. He’s my child.

What is this nonsense, woman? Since when do you have a son? And a baby like that? So, I wasn't going to see your pregnancy? he laughed at himself and looked again at the child, who remained motionless under the sheets. Is he alive?

He’s asleep, she said, without much conviction.

He seems dead.

Impressed, Romualdo approached the baby's face, who still didn't move and touched him with his fingers, until he opened his eyes and moaned softly.

Look what you have done! Clementina scolded. The poor little thing woke up.

Romualdo approached the woman, who had the baby in her arms and stroked his little head.

He’s so cute!

Do you think so?

He nodded and became curious.

I’m being serious, Tina. Whose baby is it?

It’s mine. I told you.

Of course, it’s not yours. Come on, tell me. Is it the pastor’s with some young lady from church?

Don't talk about the pastor like that! she said angrily. If you went to church, you might not drink so much and correct your life.

Okay, I'm sorry, he lowered his eyes embarrassed and changed the subject. He looks hungry.

The baby was crying louder now. Clementina shook him gently, trying to calm him down. Don't cry, little baby. But where is Leontina with that bottle?

Did Leontina go to buy a baby bottle?

How do you expect me to feed him? He doesn't know how to drink from a glass yet.

Right. he kept looking at the child, until he continued Tina...

What?

You still haven't told me how he got here.

There was no other way. Clementina did not want to leave the baby, but she needed to tell Romualdo the truth.

Do you swear you won't tell anyone? He nodded and she continued. And will you help me to keep him?

Keep him? But, Tina, the baby has a mother…

No, he does not! No mother does what they did to him.

You're making it a huge mystery. Will you tell me right away where this child came from?

First you must promise. Will you support me or not?

How can I support you with these crazy thing?

When you hear the whole story, then you'll see what is crazy.

Fine. I'll support you, as long as you haven't kidnapped the baby.

Kidnapped who! Am I a criminal?

Stop playing and tell me.

Clementina told everything in detail, following Romualdo's astonished look with each passage of the narration. At the end, his eyes were teary, more from emotion than from the effect of the alcohol, which barely was felt.

Do you see why I have to stay with him? she concluded. The mother is irresponsible, criminal. Where have you seen that someone throws her child away in a garbage can?

How horrible! You're right about the mother, but I don't think you can keep him.

Why not? I found him.

A baby is not an umbrella that people grab from the lost and found. The police will not let you keep him.

Who said anything about the police? We won't say anything.

And you think no one will find out?

Only if you talk.

Open your eyes, Tina! The authorities will come to pick him up.

The authorities won't know! We can register him as our son, and no one will ever know.

Register him? Now you've gone mad.

Think carefully, Romualdo. We have always wanted to have a child, but God didn't give us one. Now, we received him as a gift. Why do we have to get rid of him?

Because he's not ours. And the mother is probably already looking for her baby.

The mother threw him away! She doesn't want him. And he wouldn't want her either if he knew what she did.

Just look at him, Tina. We don't even know if he'll survive. What if this baby dies in our hands? Have you ever thought about the trouble we're going to get into?

He won't die. And don't ever say that again. Just wait for Leontina to come with the bottle, and I'll feed him. He'll survive, he'll grow strong and beautiful. And he will be our son.

May I know how you intend to pass him off as our son?

You’ll go to the registry office and register him as our son. That's it.

I've never registered a child... Don't I need to present any paper?

I don't know, but I can ask the pastor. He should know.

The pastor? The pastor will force you to hand the child over to the Juvenile Court.

I'll find out, Romualdo. There are lawyers in the church, whom I can ask. Then, we can register the child and move out. No one will know anything.

For a moment, Romualdo was tempted to dissuade Clementina from this madness and turn in the child to the Juvenile Court. However, taking a better look at the little boy, his heart sank. He also wanted to have a child, but Clementina would never get pregnant. He had accused her of being sterile several times, although he knew the problem was his own, because of the mumps he had during his childhood. However, his male pride prevented him from telling the truth, and Clementina had always lived blaming herself for not having children.

She had no money for treatment, so she never knew that the disability was his and not hers.

Wouldn't that be the opportunity to make up for those nine years of childless marriage? She was no longer a young woman, but she still had enough time to raise a child and watch him grow up. They both could. And he had always wanted a child, although, intimately, he felt resigned to his own sterility. Wouldn't that be their chance?

Looking at the two of them, no one could tell that they were not mother and son, that they did not have the same blood. They were even physically similar. The boy was a mulatto like Clementina, like him. The hair was still thin, but you could already tell that it would grow curly, just like theirs. Who would deny that they were his parents?

The decision was made. The next day, Monday, Romualdo would go to the registry office to get information about the child's registration. If he said he was born at home, who would argue? From then on, the child would be his son.

CHAPTER 2

Leontina went down the hill, cursing life and her stupidity. Why had she let herself be persuaded to go under that storm? And, besides, she had to slide over the slope, risking herself to be struck on the head by lightning. All so her crazy sister could stay at home coddling a baby that should be turned into care of a better-prepared institution.

She continued cursing as she went down the street, past the place where they had found the child. The garbage can was still there. A homeless woman rummaged inside, probably looking for scraps of food. Leontina took pity, prayed a little to Jesus so he would save that soul, and continued. In the opposite direction, an elegant woman was passing by, balancing on her high heels under a huge umbrella, full of flowers. As she passed by the garbage can, the beggar approached her, but she paid no attention, and took a step to escape her annoying harassment. Leontina was close enough to hear someone's perceptibly drunk voice.

Did you see my son, madam? Did you see my baby?

Leontina froze. She thought of turning around to ask for explanation, but a sudden terror stiffened her feet, which could not turn around. Taking advantage of the lack of rain for a while, she crossed to the pharmacy, leaving behind the garbage can and her strange visitor. Remorse began to consume her. I should have stopped and asked what the woman was talking about. But she knew what it was about. It couldn't be a coincidence, nor was the woman drunk enough to invent a baby in the same garbage can where, by chance, she and Clementina had just found one.

Margarete turned the can over, barely containing her agony. In her efforts to find what she was looking for; she didn't even see Leontina pass by. What was in her mind when she got rid of the baby? It had been an act of despair; she really didn't want to get rid of the creature. Her mind blurred by alcohol had hindered her reasoning and had stimulated her depression. In one of her crises, she thought that throwing her child away in the garbage would save her from a problem. The son, however, was not the problem. The problem was her, who couldn't handle her life.

Margarete lived around Belford Roxo, always around men and jobs. When her parents died, she was already nineteen, so she had to work to survive. Life was not easy at all. She had no professional qualifications, she could not read or write properly, she was semi-illiterate. Sometimes, she found work as a housekeeper or a packer in a grocery store, but she never stayed long, because she was irresponsible and used to miss work without a good reason.

She was going from one job to another, until she went to work in the home of an influential family in Belford Roxo. At twenty-six, although she had already lost a bit of her youthfulness, as a result of a hard and sacrificed life, she still had a touch of beauty that attracted attention. And since, in the house where she worked, the landlady's son was a handsome fourteen-year-old boy, Margaret soon started liking him. Unexperienced, Anderson fell in love with the first woman in his life.

For two years, Margaret worked and lived there, until she got pregnant. At the beginning of the pregnancy, Mrs. Bernadete, the landlady, felt sorry for her and promised to keep her at work even after the birth of the child. For Margaret, this was not enough. She wanted Anderson to assume his responsibilities and acknowledge his son so they both could have a luxury life.

Under pressure, Anderson saw no alternative but to reveal the truth. As expected, the father, Graciliano, was furious. When questioned, Margarete confirmed everything, demanding money for her son but the claim had no effect. Extremely prejudiced, Graciliano would not accept as a grandson the son of a black domestic, who was even much older than Anderson. He sent the boy to a boarding school in São Paulo and threw Margaret out on the street.

Poor, nowhere to go, Margaret was in despair. She wandered the streets and begged, showing her huge belly to provoke the compassion of passersby, who always gave her a tip or two. With the money, she bought food and drink. Until, disillusioned, she saw in alcohol the salvation of her misfortune, because the drink had the effect of an anesthetic on her mind and made her forget for a moment, her misery.

Feeling the approach of childbirth, she went alone to the public maternity hospital, where the baby was born without further problems. It was a thin, dark-skinned boy, a shade of brown lighter than his mother’s. When seeing the child, hatred consumed Margaret's chest. If she and her son were white, they would have taken place in Anderson's life. With that thought, she left the maternity hospital determined to turn him in for adoption.

But a mother's heart beats differently, and Margaret didn't have the courage to get rid of the child. She could try asking Mrs. Bernadete for help. Maybe she would sympathize and give her some money.

By carrying the baby, Margaret rang the doorbell at Anderson’s house. The servant as she did not know her, attended and ordered her to wait. Soon Bernadete appeared.

What are you doing here? She whispered, closing the door so no one inside could see them. Do you want Graciliano to call the police?

Please, help me, she moaned. I have no money and nowhere to go.

That's your problem. No one told you to take advantage of our trust.

I know I was wrong, but the baby is not to blame. He's your grandson.

Margarete removed the cloth covering her son and showed it to Bernadete, who turned his face away and responded angrily,

This child is not my grandson. He is not. And you have no way to prove it. He is... He is... she hesitated to speak, so as not to reveal her prejudice. He is very different from our family. No one will say he's Anderson's son.

You know he is.

I know nothing! You're the one who says so, but this little boy could be anyone's son. No one in their right mind will believe he's my grandson. And Anderson is a child, you seduced him. A grown woman like you can't be sleeping with teenagers. We could have called the police and you'd be arrested.

Stunned, Margarete stood still, staring at Bernadete with a surprised look on her face. Suddenly, the door opened and Graciliano appeared.

I should have thought it was you, black, he said angrily, looking at the child in his arms. And you brought the baby with you. Where have you seen such daring?

Sobbing, Margarete replied in a humble and suffering voice.

For the love of God, Dr. Graciliano, help me.

Get out of here, you scoundrel, or I'll call the police!

We don’t need to make a fuss, said Bernadete, trying to avoid a fuss in front of the neighborhood. Margarete was just leaving, right, Margarete?

She just nodded and lowered her head, pressing her son against her chest. She was so humiliated that she didn't even want to argue anymore and didn't notice that Bernadete was whispering something in Graciliano's ear. She turned around and walked down the steps leading to the front garden. A tap on her shoulder made her turn. Further back, Bernadete waved a wad of money in front of her face.

Go on, take it. I know this is what you want.

That's as much as you'll get from us, said Graciliano. Your gold digging didn't work.

In tears, Margarete took the money and tucked it inside her brasier, feeling her sore breasts as she touched them. They were full of milk to nurse her child who was asleep all the time. Bewildered, she turned the corner, saw a bar, and headed there. She entered, almost running over a beggar sleeping against the wall. The beggar stirred and cursed loudly, then fell asleep again. Disregarding him, she asked for a drink. Even with the child in her chest, she managed to get a few drinks, feeling safer, free to do as she pleased.

She staggered down the street, thinking about her life. With each stumble, she squeezed the baby, afraid to let it fall, and responded with a whimper. He was a quiet child, who barely cried. As she looked at him, Margaret felt a mixture of hatred and tenderness.

How wrong she was about Bernadete! She, who looked so good, had turned out to be a cruel, wicked, prejudiced woman. Anderson's whole family was full of prejudice, a fact she hadn't counted on when she idealized her plan. She really thought she could beat her heart, as Graciliano said, but it didn’t work, and now she was worse than before, carrying an unacknowledged child on her back.

She decided to take any bus. Since she could not read properly, the destination was unknown. The bus continued along Via Dutra, empty that Sunday afternoon. Despite the drunkenness, Margaret still managed to breastfeed her son, who now could not stop crying. When the vehicle rocked, she fell asleep, with her knees propped up on the back of the front seat, to keep the baby from falling out.

Margaret woke up to the ticket collector pushing her.

Last stop, he said grumpily.

Hum? She stretched and looked at her son, who was now sleeping sated, leaving her breast exposed.

Last bus stop, repeated the man, looking stupidly at Margaret's bare chest. You have to get off.

Where are we? She asked, covering herself with her torn blouse.

Penha.

Where is it?

In Rio de Janeiro. You’re crazy, aren’t you?

The baby stirred and Margaret carried him.

I need a drink, she announced, feeling her tongue heavy and rough.

Look, I really would like to help but I can’t. I still have two more trips to make, and it’s better if you leave the bus. In a little bit the inspector will be here, and he'll tell me off because of you.

Margaret stared into the darkness of the street. For a moment, she thought the night had fallen. Looking better, she realized that there were heavy clouds that were taking over the sky.

There's going to be a storm, she said. Where am I going to go?

Don't you know where you are going to go? She shook her head, and he replied. Why don't you take the bus back?

I'm never going back to Belford Roxo. And if I can't stay here, I'll find somewhere to stay.

The bus is not a shelter, ma'am.

Margaret left without saying goodbye, walking down the dark street. The sky threatened with a heavy rain. In another point ahead, she caught a bus. She desperately needed a drink. Sitting in the back seat, she thought about getting off again but the driver started the vehicle and she swallowed her addiction, feeling that dull hatred hammering in her chest. With the jolt of the bus, the baby moved a little and threw up in Margaret's chest, who cursed him and lifted him up roughly. He burst into tears, causing her immense fury.

Shut up, you bastard! She muttered and shook him, increasing his sobs.

You shouldn't treat your baby like that, she heard a voice and realized it was a woman sitting in the side seat. It’s rude.

Margaret wanted to tell the woman not to get involved in her life, but there were other passengers looking at her disapprovingly. For that reason, she settled her son in her chest and tried to calm herself, although the hatred persisted.

As if so much misfortune wasn't enough, I still have to endure people's recrimination because of him, she thought angrily.

People like that should not have a child, said a man in front of her in a low voice, causing her even more irritation.

I agree, said the girl next to him. I do not know why to bring a child into the world.

These women are like that. They treat children like animals.

Although they spoke softly, Margaret heard everything they said. The hatred she felt was so intense that she unwillingly clasped his son's neck around her arms.

The boy squirmed, let out a guttural moan, and only then did she realize that she was strangling him.

My God! she said to herself. What am I doing?

Scared of herself, Margaret stood up abruptly and made a sign to get off. Paying her ticket, she went down on a crowded street, into an unfamiliar neighborhood. Walking aimlessly, she came to a lighted square, where, in the center, an artificial lake boasted an immense and beautiful fountain. For a while she observed the beauty of the square and the fountain, having no idea where she was.

She walked randomly, attentive to the lights that were everywhere, cursing herself for not knowing how to read. However, she identified the subway symbol, which Anderson had shown her a few times in magazines. She passed a coffee shop that seemed attractive, but didn't dare to enter for the fear of being expelled. She turned onto the first street she saw, walking in search of a bar. Carrying the baby like a bundle, she entered the tavern and ordered a shot of liquor, which the clerk reluctantly served. When she finished, she ordered another, then another, and so it was until she ran out of the little amount of money that Bernadete had given her.

Completely altered by the drink, she staggered away, carrying the small burden that as she thought, was the cause of all her misfortune. An unpleasant odor told her that the child had stained the only diaper he had, which was the gift of a charitable nurse, which was now unusefull. Angrily, she tore off the baby's diaper and threw it away.

You fool! she shouted, irritated by the child's desperate cry. I have to get rid of you!

She wrapped the baby in the tattered blanket that smelled of vomit, feeling her stomach churn with the mixture of bad smells. A bolt of lightning flashed across the sky and she hurried to find a place to leave her son. She dared not place him in front of a door or gate, for fear of being caught by a passerby or, worse, the police.

It was then that she passed by a rusty old garbage can. Without a lid, filled almost to the brim, it had been placed in front of a very high stone wall that protected a house that was in ruins. The idea came to her, immediately, seeming brilliant. What if she put the baby in there? Cautiously, she tried the door, but it was locked with a large padlock.

She turned to the garbage can and watched. With the threat of rain, the street was practically empty. There was no one around. Just the garbage can to catch her eye.

Margaret pulled her torn coat tighter around her body to protect herself from the cold. The son, wrapped in rags, finally was quiet and fell asleep. Everything was silent, the child and the street. Nothing seemed to be moving or alive.

It was now or never. If she waited any longer, the courage would fade. She would remain the same, with that little burden stealing her youth and life. She looked around again and by seeing no one, took a determined step. With a single gesture, she placed the tattered and smelly blanket that was warming up her son's small body, over the debris. She turned her back on the garbage can and hurried, without looking back, certain that that would be the last time she would see that child.

CHAPTER 3

It had been only a few hours since all this had happened, so how could it be that the baby had disappeared? Margarete had left him in the garbage can for a brief time, impulse by the drink and not realizing that she was being influenced by ignorant spirits who were irritated by the child, who diverted her attention to the bar’s doors.

She remembered wandering aimlessly afterwards, until she found a park bench, where she laid down. She was so tired and drunk that she fell asleep quickly. She woke up to the first drops of rain falling on her face. For a few minutes, she had been lying on her back, allowing the water to wash away the liquor and giving her the freshness of a new consciousness. Now awake, she looked for the baby beside her and under the bench, where he might have slipped for a brief instant as she fell asleep but he was not there.

Straining her memory with great effort, she remembered the trash can. With a leap, she began to run, slipping through the puddles on the sidewalk. As she ran, she remembered the steps that brought her there, trying desperately to remember the street where she was on. She entered the first one, walking hurriedly until she realized it was the wrong street. She went back and took the next one, finally recognizing the places she had passed hours before.

She stumbled, stomping through puddles, slipping from time to time. It was only then that he realized that there were garbage cans on both sides of the street. There weren't many, but enough to confuse her. Which garbage can could it be? While looking around anxiously, a stone wall brought her a sense of familiarity. Behind the wall, there was a house in ruins, and in front, a garbage can like so many others on that street. It could only be that one.

She went there with a pounding heart and immediately recognized the tattered blanket that served as clothing for the child since he was born. She lifted the cloth euphorically, turned it over in her hands, perhaps hoping that, magically, the child would still be wrapped there. She looked in the dumpster, rummaged through the garbage, looked around and even in the sewers. Nothing. He had disappeared.

With despair overtaking her heart, Margarete began to cry as she was looking inside the garbage can in a frenzy. A woman passed by but Margarete didn't pay much attention to her because she was focused on her quest. When an elegant lady passed her, Margarete found herself asking in despair.

Did you see my son, ma’am.? Did you see my baby?

Without answering, the woman walked quickly away. Confused, Margarete walked from one place to another, not knowing what to do. She felt like she needed a drink, but the money was gone. A sip would surely help her think. Suddenly, finding her son was no longer as important as feeding her addiction. He was certainly fine. If he had died, his body would still be in the trash or dumped in the sewer, but he was not. Someone must have picked him up. After a drink, she would think more calmly and go off asking questions here and there.

After begging around the neighborhood, she got some coins and ran to the same bar as before.

I want a shot of brandy, she asked in a slurred voice.

First show me the money, ordered the owner, suspiciously.

She showed some coins, which he took, pouring her a drink. She drank quickly and asked for one more. She paid in advance, and the man poured the drink into her glass. By the third time, the money was gone.

Let's go to the back so I can pay you with another coin, she invited, throwing a provocative look at the man.

The bar owner was a rough Portuguese man, but very proper and happily married. When Margarete invited him to have sex in exchange for the drink, he was furious. He clenched his fists and, shaking them in front of her eyes, shouted.

But what a shameless woman! Get away from here, you hooker, or I'll kick you out!

Afraid to be beaten, Margarete didn't even think twice. In her usual drunken state, she rolled on her heels and started running out the door, crossing the street like a madwoman. The driver didn't even have time to slow down. Margarete appeared in front of him out of nowhere. The new red Chevett lifted her up right into the air so violently that her bones broke before she hit the ground, already dead with her eyes bulging, frozen because of the surprise of the inevitable.

Nearby, it was finally Leontinas’s turn in the crowded pharmacy. When she left, she was determined to tell the homeless woman that she had found her son and that he was safe at her sister's house. Before she reached the garbage can, she noticed a crowd around a crumpled car and, beyond that, what looked like a body lying on the ground. Screeching sirens were approaching, until they stopped, with police and medics alternating turns to confirm the death. The rain had stopped, so Leontina could stop and find out what had happened.

It was a woman who ran across the street and the car ran over her, said an acquaintance.

Even before she looked, Leontina knew that that body was the beggar woman. She approached cautiously, took a look, confirming her suspicions. At the same time, her legs weakened and she thought she was going to faint. And now, what would she do? Completely dazed, she walked up the slope and took the mud path that led to Clementina's shed. From the door, besides the baby's crying, she heard Clementina's and Romualdo's voices. She entered silently. The sister flew over and snatched the bottle from her hands.

You took so long, Leontina! The child is crying aloud.

As Clementina poured milk into the bottle, she commented in a voice that seemed to come out of a deep cavern.

There was a terrible accident in the street. A drunken woman was run over and killed.

What a horrible thing! Clementina lamented.

I'll go and see, announced Romualdo from the door.

You are a lost cause, uh? scolded Clementina. You love misfortune.

As soon as Clementina put the bottle nipple in the baby's mouth, he began to suck the milk intensely. Already bathed, he had a handkerchief wrapped like a diaper.

Does he already know? Leontina asked, referring to Romualdo.

I told him everything and he promised to help me.

Help you with what?

Keeping the baby, because he's my son now.

I need to tell you something. Something serious.

What is it?

I found out who his mother is.

Clementina froze. Panicked, she said incredulously, stammered.

It's not possible.

It is. I listened as she asked a woman on the street if she had seen her baby. And she was rummaging through the garbage can where we found him.

No! It can't be. She can't get him back. The woman threw him in the garbage!

And now she's dead...

Dead? But how? Was she the one who was run over? Leontina nodded and added regretfully.

I'll never forget that face.

Oh my God!

And now, what are we going to do?

After a brief pause, Clementina composed herself and considered, filled with hope.

Nothing If the woman died, no one will claim the child. It can be mine.

This is not right, Clementina. What about his family?

His family is now me. Do you think that, if this woman had a family, she would have abandoned her child? Clearly not. Even if she didn't want to, some relative would take care of him.

Thinking that way...

"That's just it. The baby has no family. His family now is us. I'm the mother, Romualdo