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buffaloes prevented me from breathing, the heads with dead empty eyes watch, asking for the borrowed clock to sell again, if I can recite the table of sevens or the tributaries of the Guadiana I’ll get better, the hospital orderly
    —You’re back in school dummy
    once I offered to accompany Dona Aurorinha upstairs and carry her shopping bag, the potatoes, the wilted vegetables, a small bottle of olive oil dripping green tears, we went one behind the other quietly up the steps, she was nothing but some disconnected rattles of bronchitis, me with the Cape Verdeans on my mind
    —Don’t die on me now
    the rattles came together with a struggle, a shudder, a falling apart and more bronchitis, it seemed to me that some loose screws were releasing her from her flesh, her neck was so thin, the cartilages of an insect, every so often the question in the form of a wheeze
    —Aren’t you tired, boy?
    not a question, a hope
    —If you’re tired you can lean up against the wall I’ll wait for you and accompanying the invitation with the sound of a dozen
    screws in a tin tube, and the skylight farther and farther away, the endless banister, the coin purse gleaming with age and its small chrome clasp
    —How many coins have you got, old woman?
    no wristwatch, no ring, a parasol that wasn’t worth shit, if you were only a rich old lady, silver flatware, watercolors, crystal, instead of watercolors and crystal flower boxes on the landing, just boxes, no flowers, with dirty sand that stank of cat, a pigeon on the skylight or a jackdaw walking across the glass
    I could swear it was a jackdaw walking across the glass
    the key coming out after some difficult maneuvers
    another screw falling out
    from the depths of her skirt, with a muddy little laugh that drenched her with joy, the left corner of her mouth sliding down toward her jaw
    if you fell apart, who’d care?
    the key was searching for the hole and scratching the paint
    —Thieves can’t find it, boy
    the hinges sounding like the click of a switchblade and the latch leaping out, the same cat smell that was intriguing because there wasn’t any cat, Dona Aurorinha fluttering around I don’t know where, the location of furniture guessed at in the dark, me with my hands out before me in fear that a dresser or a side table might attack me, maybe if she said something to me, if she took me in her arms
    she used to take me in her arms
    if she said
    —Boy
    I’m not robbing you, help me, the orderly at the hospital with a pitying push
    —The boob got a notion to call for help
    jackdaws not just on the skylight, but on the cedar in Príncipe Real, on the trees that Mr. Couceiro knew, jackdaws, don’t you cry, jackdaws, get inside you’ll catch cold dummy, jackdaw waves, jackdaw horses, jackdaw orderlies, the boob got a notion to call for help, jackdaw doctors ordering them to tie me to the bed
    —Is he your grandson?
    Mr. Couceiro’s cane rising up with some strange arabesques and going off to confront the Japanese
    —He’s not my grandson he’s my
    if he calls me son I’ll smash the tureen right here and now
    jackdaw four times seven, five times seven, six times seven, you’ve gone back to school, dummy, colic, vomiting, this coldness in the belly, a spoon, the match, don’t give me any medicine and I won’t smash the car with wooden wheels, he’s not my grandfather he’s my father, who’s going to keep him quiet now, my father, the clown
    — Why Carlos?
    in his wig with no lipstick on his lips, the straps of the dress not on his shoulders, on his arms, through a chink in the window
    the drapes, the chandelier, a metal frame and the light bulbs in a circle, three of them lighted
    how much is seven times three?
    the rest of them dark
    —Go back to Dona Helena’s you’ll wake up the neighbors
    a voice so different from the songs in the show, jewels that don’t get to shine without light bulbs, there was no bathtub, a stucco washbasin and Spanish perfume instead of