Read Captains of the Sands for Free Online Page B
Authors: Jorge Amado
around eleven o’clock they went to the warehouse. Good-Life showed Cat to Pedro and then took him to the place where he slept:
“I’ve got a sheet here. It’s big enough for two.”
Cat lay down. Good-Life stretched out next to him. When he thought the other one was asleep he embraced him with his hand and with the other began to pull down his pants slowly. In a minute Cat was on his feet:
“You’re fooling yourself, mulatto. I’m a man.”
But Good-Life no longer saw anything, he only saw his desire, the urge he had for Cat’s white body, of rolling his head in Cat’s dark hair, of feeling the firm flesh of Cat’s thighs. And he leaped onto him with the intention of knocking him down and raping him. But Cat moved his body out of the way, stuck out his leg, Good-Life fell on his face. A group had already formed around them. Cat said:
“He thought I was queer. Do your dirty things to yourself.”
He took off with Good-Life’s sheet for another corner and went to sleep. They were enemies for a long time but finally became friends again and now when Cat is tired of a little chippy he gives her to Good-Life.
One night Cat was going through the red-light district, his hair all shiny with cheap grease, a necktie on, whistling as ifhe were one of those city hoodlums. The women looked at him and laughed:
“Look at that spring chicken…I wonder what he wants around here?”
Cat answered with smiles and kept on his way. He was waiting for one of them to call him and make love to him. But he didn’t want to pay for it, not just because the coins he had wouldn’t add up to fifteen hundred
milreis
, but because the Captains of the Sands didn’t like to pay women. They had little black girls of sixteen to fall down with on the sand.
The women were doubtless looking at his boyish figure. They found him handsome in his vice-ridden boyhood and would have liked to have made love to him. But they didn’t call to him because it was time for waiting for the men who paid and they had to think about their rent and their next day’s meal. They contented themselves with laughing and making jokes. They knew that out of that would come one of those swindlers who take over a woman’s life, take her money, beat her, but give her a lot of loving too. A lot of them would have liked to be the first woman for such a young hoodlum. But it was ten o’clock, time for the paying customers. And Cat went uselessly back and forth. That was when he saw Dalva, who was coming down the street wrapped up in a fur coat in spite of the summer night. She went by him almost without looking. She was a woman of some thirty-five years, strong body, a face full of sensuality. Cat wanted her at once. He was after her. He watched when she went into a house and didn’t come out. He stayed on the corner waiting. Minutes later she would appear at the window. Cat went up and down the street but she didn’t even look at him. Then an old man went by, heard her call, went in. Cat kept waiting, but even after the old man had come out in a great hurry, trying not to be seen, she didn’t come back to the window.
Night after night Cat went back to the same corner, just to watch her. Everything he got in the way of money now went to buying used clothes and to looking elegant. He had a touch of low-life elegance that was more in his way of walking, of wearing his hat, and making a casual knot in his tie rather than inthe clothing itself. Cat had a desire for Dalva in the same way that he desired food when he was hungry, that he desired sleep when he was sleepy. He no longer paid any attention to the calls of the other women when after midnight they’d already taken care of the next day’s expenses and wanted some juvenile love from the little hoodlum. Once he went with one of them only to find out about Dalva’s life. That was how he found out that she had a lover, a flute player in a café who took the money she made and always had wild drinking bouts in
“I’ve got a sheet here. It’s big enough for two.”
Cat lay down. Good-Life stretched out next to him. When he thought the other one was asleep he embraced him with his hand and with the other began to pull down his pants slowly. In a minute Cat was on his feet:
“You’re fooling yourself, mulatto. I’m a man.”
But Good-Life no longer saw anything, he only saw his desire, the urge he had for Cat’s white body, of rolling his head in Cat’s dark hair, of feeling the firm flesh of Cat’s thighs. And he leaped onto him with the intention of knocking him down and raping him. But Cat moved his body out of the way, stuck out his leg, Good-Life fell on his face. A group had already formed around them. Cat said:
“He thought I was queer. Do your dirty things to yourself.”
He took off with Good-Life’s sheet for another corner and went to sleep. They were enemies for a long time but finally became friends again and now when Cat is tired of a little chippy he gives her to Good-Life.
One night Cat was going through the red-light district, his hair all shiny with cheap grease, a necktie on, whistling as ifhe were one of those city hoodlums. The women looked at him and laughed:
“Look at that spring chicken…I wonder what he wants around here?”
Cat answered with smiles and kept on his way. He was waiting for one of them to call him and make love to him. But he didn’t want to pay for it, not just because the coins he had wouldn’t add up to fifteen hundred
milreis
, but because the Captains of the Sands didn’t like to pay women. They had little black girls of sixteen to fall down with on the sand.
The women were doubtless looking at his boyish figure. They found him handsome in his vice-ridden boyhood and would have liked to have made love to him. But they didn’t call to him because it was time for waiting for the men who paid and they had to think about their rent and their next day’s meal. They contented themselves with laughing and making jokes. They knew that out of that would come one of those swindlers who take over a woman’s life, take her money, beat her, but give her a lot of loving too. A lot of them would have liked to be the first woman for such a young hoodlum. But it was ten o’clock, time for the paying customers. And Cat went uselessly back and forth. That was when he saw Dalva, who was coming down the street wrapped up in a fur coat in spite of the summer night. She went by him almost without looking. She was a woman of some thirty-five years, strong body, a face full of sensuality. Cat wanted her at once. He was after her. He watched when she went into a house and didn’t come out. He stayed on the corner waiting. Minutes later she would appear at the window. Cat went up and down the street but she didn’t even look at him. Then an old man went by, heard her call, went in. Cat kept waiting, but even after the old man had come out in a great hurry, trying not to be seen, she didn’t come back to the window.
Night after night Cat went back to the same corner, just to watch her. Everything he got in the way of money now went to buying used clothes and to looking elegant. He had a touch of low-life elegance that was more in his way of walking, of wearing his hat, and making a casual knot in his tie rather than inthe clothing itself. Cat had a desire for Dalva in the same way that he desired food when he was hungry, that he desired sleep when he was sleepy. He no longer paid any attention to the calls of the other women when after midnight they’d already taken care of the next day’s expenses and wanted some juvenile love from the little hoodlum. Once he went with one of them only to find out about Dalva’s life. That was how he found out that she had a lover, a flute player in a café who took the money she made and always had wild drinking bouts in