Читать книгу White Squad - Annalu Braga - Страница 5

The sky dawned, clean, surrounded by a breeze of opportune winds. A beautiful day to be started with sex. It is what comes to mind on such easily predictable days. No obstacles. With a soul empowered by cotton candy covered dreams. The silver jeep parked in the garage, a brand new shine, and, in detail, on the windshield´s right side, a sticker reading Normal and Insane, embellished this atmosphere. Conrado had not yet decided whether or not he liked the prop, invented by the only person who really knew him: his bride, Vera. There are even some colleagues in the hospital who´d think the phrase does not match the image of a doctor at the height of his career – a straight, white figure, forming an impeccable ensemble with his lab coat, the indefectible Lamy in his pocket and the beige leather folder with the Conrado Connor inscription in black and gold. The man accelerates, entering the day´s road, overcoming the passenger cars ahead.

– Get out of the way, I'm in a hurry, damn it.

Conrado stops at his favorite news stand, in front of a pharmacy in Baixo Leblon. A group of people tries to breathe in the rest of the newspaper headlines: "Mystery patients serial deaths at a hospital in Rio de Janeiro remains unsolved". He asks the dark skinned stand owner for his two usual newspapers, and he quickly wallows in the main daily papers editions´ copies mud. The doctor pays him with a 20 reais bill and departs at the green light.

– Stupid people, don't know this happens.

Hospital infection is the most common thing in hospitals, even in the high-end, personalized clinics in the United States. He keeps driving, with the newspaper sitting on the steering wheel. A driver overtakes him in a radical overtaking, honking his horn, catching his eye.

–Damn, watch out where you are going! You think your cool car is armored? Shouts the van's helper, but he still doesn't care about the world outside, just minding the news glance.

– It is already time for them to give it up, it´s been a month now, and it is a finished, old and beaten fact for the press.– Another driver passes, trashing him, but he remains unmoved – Old newspaper, this one. The sports section sucks. It would had been better not to have seen anything on the internet.

The doctor parks on the boardwalk, in front of the beach, looking for the sea calmness. Turns on the car stereo and a hip-hop emerges from the tombs of past times.

– American girl, I love this version – he cheers up.

Three phenomenal blonde women cross the sidewalk. At a first glance, they seem like friends telling stories from the previous night, and yes, there is much more left to imagination, by the way they comment, excitedly.

– Michele, isn't "five grand" good for one night? – says Karin, to her 23-year-old friend.

– You caught a big fish too – concedes Michele, the youngest of the pros.

– Yes, a real marlin – Karin answers with an open grin, showing up her new, implanted teeth arch, like a brand new car leaving the dealership.

– Wow, with that kind of money I´d have my nose done, just like Nicole Kidman's thin nose, I would look great! Imagine, the “bewitched” and me, equal, twin sisters. That's when the johns would really talk about me– says Wal, 25, excited.

– You have no idea how much I had to wiggle to make these five thousand ...But I'm alive, and in the mood to spend everything at the mall – Karin jokes.

– What? No, not at the mall! An exclusive store, that's what you need, there's a famous one that opened in Ipanema, let's stop by, girls? – Wal suggests .

Conrado observes the hotties closely: the ones on the right have pigeon-shaped breasts, unlike the third one, whose breasts resemble a “sweet” candy apple. Just thinking about those three beauties in a motel room sauna(TN: In Brazil, motels are fancy, short-time period – usually 4 hours or overnight with an early check-out– hotels used for sex encounters; love motels) , the doctor emerges from of the morning news torment .

– Today I can do anything, the day dawned beautifully and everything goes– a prophecy. He approaches the women and, without hesitation, makes the invitation, showing the wallet full of hundred-real bills. At first, even the dunes say yes.

On the way to São Conrado, there is a motel, embedded in stone, where he likes to have sex watching the waves foaming on the rocks, following their pace. Slowly and deeply, deeper each time.

Wal and Michele sweeten themselves, as if it were the first time for the two women, while he finishes enjoying himself on Karin's back, drooling all over her body. Conrado reaches for the wallet. He picks up an envelope, pouring the white content onto the convex salience on the blonde's spine, and stretches a foot-long cocaine line. He embraces her, rubbing his member in the middle of her legs and sniffing the powder until a prolonged end, at the furrow of the small, and muscular girl's butt. The sex and power nuptial march continues, while he watches excitedly, as Wal's mouth sinks into her partner's pubic hair, as she stands on the table. Her vulva, a dull and penetrating pink, contrasts with the dyed blond hair, making him more horny, sipping in the flesh confrontations´ details . Michele asks her to finalize her actions with the due compassion: materializing the pleasure contained in martyrdom.

– Kill me, Wal, but kill me willingly ... – and Wal adds energy to her lover's face expression, using fingers and tongue in the cradle of her golden-red dreams. The doctor watches everything with learning determination, as if he could never overcome them in bed. Drinks the rest of his whiskey, keeping a small piece of ice between his teeth. He approaches Karin's back and runs the ice-melted tongue around her spine, doing sequential circles down to her butt.

– Your time has come, stud. Babe, call me Doc, this is how I like it, okay?

It's your turn to experience my power.

Karin, naughtlly, allows herself to be entirely embraced, being approached with the intensity of one man. His desire is voracious, perpetuating within the walls of the motel.

– Approach is loyal. Penetration is lion, – ponders Wal, the blonde with a thousand sexual spells.

Leaning against his shoulder, Michele, the creature with green eyes and a clearly livid after-sex look, theorizes that “anything can happen uptown, this is Zona Sul (TN: Literally, South End, usually the best neighborhood in Brazilian cities)”. After she moved from Niterói to Rio, only sex maniacs have showed up in her sexual encounters. Since she met her colleagues and, as she vows – was “co-opted” -, it has been a succession of setbacks, but now there is no turning back, it´s all fine.

In bed, Karin gets surrounded by the male stalker organ. Conrad imposes a crazy rhythm, with little saliva and exceeding impatience. With an experienced succession of firm strokes, he smiles, convinced of his power, while "working", surrounding the female. Wal helps herself to a drink ,and leans against the jealous window edge. Not even the sea is that blue today ... Michele joins her, wrapped in a red satin towel.

– This "little doctor" is going to give us a lot of trouble. I thought it would be a quickie, but the consultation will last a long time. There's two in the waiting line— she mocks.

"The way he's "snorted," he's not going to drop "the ball" —her friend says. openly.

The afternoon sun already shows up on the horizon, like a thin trace in the middle of the sea, waking the bodies lying over the bed. Conrado consults his watch with the defiant tone of a robot. Rubs his eyes and gets up, still naked.

– Dammit! Ladies, it's time to set sail!

Intertwined, Michele and Wal grumble when they are awakened. Conrado dresses in seconds, in a bad-mood foam. Separates 10 100-real bills and hands eight to the green-eyed blonde Karin, the chosen goddess, the one totally consumed. The other pair of notes is disputed by the rest. He recommends the young women leave their business cards with the brunet receptionist and picks up his car´s keys. Karin looks at the girls with an inviting look, and they reciprocate. "The commander leaves and the crew starts the party", saying so, locks the bedroom door and the blondes´ private little party begins .

In the apartment facing the Lagoon (TN: Rodrigo de Freitas Lagoon, a well-known touristic venue in Rio as well as a neighborhood denomination), Roberta cries, but it's not the first time she's shedding tears for her husband. The old-fashioned linen embroidered scarf is named after João Henrique. "If I had embraced some religion, I wouldn't be suffering so much," reflects the woman, marked by a long white hair wick lying on the right side of her fringe.

Without a shadow of a doubt, a beautiful woman in her fifties. Overlooking the balcony ´s rail in the Lagoa's apartment, she watches the comes and goes of cars on the waterfront.

The light turns green and a car crash becomes a new ordeal. Roberta observes the confusion, worried. "It's not the first time, never is." Remembers the tragic accident that hit João Henrique.

The couple had prepared to hit the road and enjoy the moments together. Almost thirty years of marriage and this was the promised vacation from one to the other, to rekindle the relationship. Ouro Preto would be the final destination, the most romantic place possible for them.

On the highway, the car started choking.

– Roberta, we are out of gas!

– How come, is it empty?

– Look at the marker!

– João, haven´t you fueled the tank before we left Rio?

– Honey, I was so anxious for this trip, I forgot. I'm sorry, but you leave it to me. Stay in the car, I'm going to push it.

In a split second, headlights appeared on the other side of the road. Roberta saw the lights and signaled at it, asking for help.The car at high speed skidded on the curve, hitting the side of the couple's car. The impact projected João's body to the shoulder. The driver braked, but gave up, and resumed his way, speeding. Roberta came across her husband on the side of the shoulder: the shirt stained at breast height, and she shouted his name.

An ambulance appeared at the curve with opened doors , and paramedics jumped, nimbly. The doctor examined João Henrique, searching for some fracture.

– Calm down, sir, you don't have to struggle. Just hold on tight til the hospital in Teresópolis. It's about 8 miles from here.

– My wife, please tell her I'm fine.

– Do you feel any pain here?

– The shoulder blade hurts a lot.

On arrival at the hospital, Roberta, after digging for some calm somewhere in her mind, called her daughter, . Roberta lit a cigarette, taking a long drag. She quit smoking more than four years ago, and now there was no way to keep the pledge.

– No, not to me! " her cry drowned out by the comfort of tobacco.

In the hospital corridors, there was a general rush. Major accident. A nurse held the hand of a young girl, her face shredded by glass cuts . "But my husband is going to get away with this, it's just a cracked rib. That's all," Roberta sought the lull of a hypothetical sea amid chaos.

In the background, a man hugged the doctor and begged him to save his sister. Roberta watched the scene and tried to convince herself that it was just routine procedure. Tatiana called next, crying.

– Tati, I didn't remember filling it up with gas in Rio. If anyone's guilty, it's me.

– Mom, it was the guy who ran over Dad. He was in the wrong direction. I'm going to the police station and see if anyone saw it. It's not possible that there was no one on the road, or in a nearby house, someone who witnessed this tragedy.

– There's no point in doing anything now. First we need to get your father out of here, this hospital is horrible.

– I'm going there.

The surgeon in charge called her name. Roberta looked around her and noticed the place´s odness, with corridors full of distressed people and arid paints on their souls. She took a deep breath when the doctor began explaining the situation.

– As we expected, it was just a rib fissure, and the treatment consists basically on resting. For now, we will maintain his functions normalized, and assist with artificial ventilation to reduce pulmonary effort. In a week, at most, he'll be fine.

At the apartment window, an ambulance siren throws her into the present. “If I had looked into the car´s gas level ... If I had not gone into the car ... If I had him push the car to the shoulder and waited for help, none of this would have happened. I would have him, I would have everything, my life back, it was just what I wanted, ”her morbid heart cries.

In downtown Rio de Janeiro, teenager Flavinho, carrying the flowers for his latest delivery, agrees with his girlfriend to pick her up in ten minutes. With a glance at the clock's hand, he enters a fine gift shop and hands the bouquet of yellow roses to the Japanese girl. The girl barely has the time to say thanks, eager to know who was the treat´s author. Flavinho picks up the client's signature and looks over the perfume showcase. Checks prices for one that fits his salary. Counts what's in his pocket, eighty-seven reais. It won´t do. Ashamed, asks to see a simple lavender flask. Shimitzu doesn't answer, just ignores the delivery boy.

At the people´s bazaar, he glances over the front row like a remote control. In one of the tents, there is a blinding shelf of gold like glittering jewels. He chooses with the dignity of his naked soul, comparing one by one. Reaches into his pocket to check how much he has, and decides for a pair of heart-shaped earrings. The blond curly-haired boy asks for a gift wrap for "a year of love." The saleswoman serves him with pleasure. Flavinho puts the box into his backpack inner pocket. Pays fifty-five reais. He and Margo celebrate their one-year dating anniversary today. His love. He meets his girlfriend at the appointed time, by the door of the store where she works. She, wearing new clothes, miniskirt and beige top, looks beautiful.

– You look stunning today, princess." Margo opens herself brightly, even guessing the compliment from who won her heart a year , four hours and forty-five minutes ago, for being an ultra-romantic guy.

– Flavinho, let's spend the afternoon at the beach?

– Love, today I would be able to ride a sled to the stars with you. Staying until the sun rises on the beach, pushing away every grain that touches your body, and counting the waves, daring the ironies of the world, smiling to fate, deceiving death to the very end, just to be with you. You are all that is best in me, and whatever is inside me, is chained to you. Babe, do you know what day it is today?

– Of course, my poet ... Margo responds with a long kiss, stopping the running crowd trying to catch the last bus on Line 175.

Flavinho enters the line, protecting his companion from the pressure of the embarking crowd with his body . A kid complains, telling him to walk. Another pushes. The bus capacity runs out fast. Flavinho slows the line, but the bus jump-starts into a jolt, causing him to bump into a pregnant woman. He apologizes, but she ignores him. The guy next to her stares at him. Flavinho walks away politely without realizing that the stranger talks on the phone while staring at him, but for Flavinho today is a happy party day, an everything is gonna be all right day

Margo and her boyfriend lean against the back of the bus in a romantic mood. The bus follows its route, passengers holding to it like magnets, to an area nearby a military academy.

At the stop, a man wearing a Mets cap enters the bus. Like a snake, he searches and recognizes the target. Draws a gun under his shirt and shoots point-blank at the teenager.

Flavinho falls back with his hand on his chest. Margo tries to contain her boyfriend's blood and screams for help.

The killer jumps out the window and runs in the middle of the street, dodging cars. He crosses the Zuzu Angel tunnel with ease, and climbs the Rocinha Hill through its endless lanes. In a seemingly abandoned house, a group of men hides drug packages into a fake tiled wall. Three young teenagers perform the task, under the close eyes of a very large white man keeping watch. He glimpses the ajar door in search of a good hiding place. In opening, he knocks down a red tricycle, causing a tremendous noise. The big guy reacts, cocks the gun and shoots without blinking. The minors realize the bad luck: the man on the ground is known, it´s Gil.

– Man, you messed up. He's from the fucking community. You killed the dude. We're going to get "scolded" because of this shit. Son of a bitch! Did you have to show up right now? – they comment, nervously.

The gang comes out, rushing through the brick shack window, mingling with people in the alleyways. During the rumble, the neighborhood is the only discreet one. A white shorts resident closes the window and sits on the couch to watch TV. A girl with a baby in her arms goes to the grocery store, as if watching a movie scene. In the shack, Gil remains lying on the ground, bleeding out.

At a French Alps city´s ski station, a stunning redheaded and slender woman practices her first skiing movements. She seems well adapted to the new poles sliding on the track, and, sometimes, bends her knees, simulating a curve, instigating surrounding looks. "I was born for this. Good life, good champagne, a handsome sweet guy..."

A nod: it is the new sweetheart who watches over her from afar. They met as soon as she arrived in Paris. From the date, scheduled through a chatroom, they went out for a drink in a late afternoon, and, from then on, it was just sex and fun. Cadú is a hottie, with a light brown complexion, deep green eyes, elegant, modern and very talkative, in fact, he is a true luxury escort. True and expensive. The obstetrician only has eyes for his chiseled body, always available for sex.

“Handsome, but you have to pay well”, she thinks, arriving at the restaurant, where the boyfriend is helping himself to a brandy. At the table, a plate of escargots succulently awaits the couple. Cadú, always courteous, gets up and offers a chair. His drink is a Remy Martin brandy, but she prefers something more sophisticated.

– Absinthe, Lyanne? But it's a fortune!

– Sweetie, men are meant to pay, or have you already spent the money I gave you? It doesn't matter. There is more where that money came from, . Anything for both of us, dear.

– It's just that I feel a little embarrassed about you passing me money under the table. What if someone sees?

– Nobody cares about these things these days. Anything goes. Ok. Next time I will put it in a nice place for you to look for.

– You and your games! That's why I'm crazy to bang you all the time. Let's go to the bedroom.

– In a minute, insatiable boy.

– Don't call me boy, I hate it when you do that.

Cadú asks for the bill and shuts up with a generous dose of fresh air.

– Calm down, you don't have to get upset, let's have our drink while I relax and get hotter, Bubuzinho.

Lyanne straightens her long red hair and bits the corner of her lip. She steals his brandy, making a point of running her tongue on the corner of her lip. Positive sign: Cadú leaves some bills on the table and they leave.

In the gondola, Lyanne undoes her blouse and exposes her breasts. "Here, it's all yours, but don't tear it, it's expensive, and you can't afford it." Cadú looks a bit annoyed, but prefers to suck her red, upright tits. She spreads her legs and sits over him, unbuttoning the zipper of her wool pants, both bodies protected by a sweater.

An employee receives tourists. Lyanne speeds up her rhythm to a selfish orgasm. She reaches her goal and tells him to end the game. Cadú, disconcerted, settles down, “I wasn't born rich, what am I going to do now? Study ? Now, it is not possible anymore, that time is over! ”. She hurries him.

– Now, let's go shopping, honey. You need a new watch, the Rolex you wear is too worn out.

– You don’t have to. I heard this is the land of Mont Blanc, it should be more affordable.

– You don't know anything, imagine, a Mont Blanc does not measure up to the technology of a Rolex. These futile things, you leave them to me, I know best, Bubuzinho.

The couple drives on the cobblestone road that cuts through the Chartreuse mountains towards the snowy valley. Lyanne, behind the wheel, runs her hand over Cadú's pants in a hopeful voice: "My handsome, Lyaninha will let you come next time."

In his office, decorated with colorful images of Guanabara Bay and a huge gold inlaid table with two white leather sofas on the side, Conrado examines some documents in a patient folder. Letter H. The nurse announces the arrival of a patient. A 75-year-old man enters and is greeted with a light hug.

– Haroldo, how are you doing?

– Not so good, Conrado. I have noticed that my legs are always wobbly, I am very tired. I feel this treatment is making me weak. Can't we take a break?

– Chemotherapy is like that. It takes time for a person to recover. The feeling of weariness is normal, after all, we are facing an enemy. The process to slow down cancer cells reproduction and the tumor is painful, but this is our challenge: mine and yours. Imagine that this is an enemy that you have to fight every day: this is how chemotherapy works. You will see that all this effort was worth it. How are the headaches?

– Come and go. Only the tiredness is wearing me down.

– It's natural, so let's continue with the treatment. In a month from now you will have blood tests to assess the platelets condition.

– Conrado, I'm not sure I want to continue with this. I know this cancer is malignant and tends to spread. I'm going to die, aren't I? Tell me the truth, you have become my friend, you can be absolutely sincere.

– Haroldo, chemotherapy is the only proven tumor inhibition technique, without it, we have no alternatives.

– My granddaughter is insisting that I travel with her. She wants to take me to Canada, the weather is mild at this time. I have a good reserve of money and I want to use it, after all, life without Bete is very hard. Old and alone, it is very difficult.

– Your granddaughter is an example of a girl, she worries, one notices that she loves you and that is admirable, but I believe it is not your time yet. Wait for another six months, the treatment term, then you travel, agreed?

Conrado says goodbye to him with a light hug, asking for a little more patience. The old man looks disappointed. Conrado puts Haroldo's file under a pile of paper and consults the secretary about the next patient. His last generation cell phone rings. The man identifies himself as police officer Martins and asks for a patient's medical record. Conrado claims that he has already provided the death certificate, but he counters that the document is vague and contains only the main factor: vital organs failure due to hospital infection. Conrado insists that the medical record would be of no value to the police, just technical information.

– But I need the details of her death, even if it is just an embellishment for journalists.

The doctor ensures he will provide the papers by the end of the week.

Satisfied, Martins, gets up from his desk, evaluating his reflection in the police station´s mirrored glass. A man of average height, white and with a spiked haircut, he looks cool today . He goes around the room, tuning his charm, aiming at the boss's secretary at the end of the corridor. He leans over her table and looks down at the mulatto woman´s cleavage, under her long braided hair. His eyes are of a bright blue color so attractive she could not escape his sight.

– Two hours in the saloon, but it's worth it," the 20-something mulatto woman insinuates. She emits body waves in skinny jeans and a combined turquoise top. Martins puts his hand on the braids and slides towards her breasts. Suzi stops him by reminding him about her boyfriend, "a sturdy wall".

– I know, the boss! – completes Martins and the secretary boasts about it. – Suzi, you're lucky the boss's wife has no idea.

People are approaching and Martins controls himself. Justifies himself with a message to his chief about the medical record request. He looks at the bottom of his colleague's knitted top and leaves, realizing that he has again lost the chance to get the boss's girl to bed.

In the Hospital surgical center, the surgeon finishes the procedures at the boy, who presents a strong hemorrhage in his chest region. He removes the bullet and deposits it on a metal tray. Julio has his moment and analyzes the bullet's curve trajectory, sliding over the utensil, making an irritating noise. The experienced doctor, in his forty-five years, has a curriculum considered normal in the balance of losses and gains. He has worked in the hospital's emergency department for five years and knows how things go. He gets out of surgery, takes off his gloves and washes his hands, watched anxiously by the young woman with braces on her teeth, unsuccessfully wiping out her tears outside the watch-window: Margo, leaning against the room door, approaches him.

– He's young and will survive. The bullet was successfully removed and the bleeding stopped. Everything went well – the doctor tries to comfort her.

– Save my boyfriend, he's an angel.

– Calm down, the first 24 hours are the most critical. After this phase, the organism will start reacting with its own defenses against the infection. He will be able to recover.

– But what do I say to Flavinho's family? His mother is desperate, she is old and has a heart problem. You know? It was our dating anniversary, one year. We were going to Leblon beach to celebrate. I asked to leave work early, if only I knew it was going to happen on the bus ...

– Young lady, think that everything will be all right. Have you eaten today? There's a cafeteria down here that sells some healthy sandwiches. Have one and go home. Write down the hospital phone and call me tomorrow morning, I'll be on call.

– I will only leave with him or with some good news.

– So, at least eat something, I don't want another patient here – he jokes, affectionately.

Two policemen stick their feet in the shack door and find Gil shot down in the abdomen. A policeman checks his pulse and realizes he is still alive, but is questioned by the colleague, interrupting the rescue.

-He´s alive. The thug still breathes.

– Let's see if he spits all out before he dies – shaking the wounded man. – You are the one called PP, Paulo Peão, isn't that right, buddy?

Gil makes the sign of the cross, swearing that it is not true. .

– Of course you are. This guy looks just like the PP´s photo – comparing with the picture– Look here.

His partner refrains.

– Shot in the abdomen. I will request the rescue vehicle – he tells his partner.

The bad cop sticks the barrel of the pistol in Gil's abdomen wound, while he´s dying on the floor.

– Will you talk or will I have to put another bullet in your “horns”, huh?

Gil just makes a painful sound.

– PP, where's the powder? Where the fuck did you hide the drug? Tell me right now or I´m going to kill you!

Blood drips onto the pale t-shirt and spills on the clay floor.

– Are you going to talk or would you prefer to take it in the pipe? – announces, turning the wounded body until the barrel of the gun touches his ass. – Aren't you going to spill? Ah, it's because you like it. Gildinha here is good, she is hot ... She gives it to you like no one! She´s tough and sure of it. Do you want to see?" Come and see how sweet she is too ... – he threatens, passing the gun on him from front to back.

His colleague catches the scene.

– Stop it, the guy is already dying! Are you gonna end his life here, with everyone watching?

– Positive. This one has a certain destination already . He looked for it, found it, "bro". He's fucked up now.

The ambulance arrival is a lifesaver and the policeman retreat, leaving the rescuers in action. The angry cop begs for death in the first bar on the way home.

The following day's newspapers feature the headlines: Drug War leaves a man seriously injured. The criminal, known for committing crimes for pure dilettantism, is in a coma at hospital.

– Dilettantism? The guy just ‘ finished’ people that messed with whom he liked, that was it. – was the general comment in the nicest bar in the favela, with a jukebox, karaoke, DVD, internet and, of course, stupidly cold beer, even some imported.

– Don't you understand that these newspaper guys like to embellish their articles?– says Deise, a black woman with full breasts, large ass and brightly black eyes.

– Speak up, Deise! – The woman able of creating light in the plain dark of her eyes – the bar owner flirts with the manicure.

– Stop it, Maneco. You are married and I know you can´t play because your wife keeps you on a very short leash!

– But what about Gil, will he make it? – asks one of the regulars at the bar.

– From what I recently saw on the internet, his chances are 10%. This will yield news in the papers, because that is what people like. – he comments.

– It´s also possible that 'the pigs will finish him' at the hospital.

– This is already just like the movies. It is easier for him to die in such a hospital bed, the kind we all will end in because we have no money, than to become a movie star.

– This Deise leaves nothing behind, a practical woman, ready for anything and with all the answers on the tip of her tongue– he blinks, flirting like crazy. – Deise, tell me something, when are you going to go out and about with me? You know, I've been waiting for this chance since I met you ...

A mulatto woman with a red leather handbag storms into the bar. Rosa complains, annoyed for not finding her car keys where they should be: on the clavicular! She translates: on the key holder. Maneco, who has been at work since six in the morning, asks for some patience.

– No excuses. I have a schedule, I'm a very busy woman. It is not because I am of black descent and I live in a community that I do not have my rights. Where are the keys?

Rosa checks out the traffic through the view she has from the top of the buildings and decides on a taxi. She comes out in short steps, showing her thin and muscular legs under close eyes, especially her No. 1 fan, her husband´s, and No. 2, her manicure´s.

– That is what it means, to be in true possession of your rights. That's right – Deise quips, glimpsing at the elegance of the sweet mulatto woman.

At the hospital, Roberta, leaning over a steel counter, hastily signs up the transfer papers for her husband. Her tracing is precise and culminates with a brush paint stroke at the name end. An official observes if the all the items have been filled in, while she is feeling proud about her daughter's profession as a journalist, for, without Tatiana, she would not have been able to get this release.

– The healthcare plan did not want to pay for the helicopter, but she is a journalist and has influence.

– Or at least they think I do. – corrects the journalist.

– That´s okay, the important thing is that we can now take your father to Rio. There, he will get better care and has more options – she emphasizes, going against a local employee.

– Madam, I'm sorry, but our hospital has all the conditions. What happens is that our equipment is not as complete as the ones the ICUs in Rio have.

– Yes, I understand, in fact, it reassures me I´m doing the right thing in taking João Henrique to Rio. We are at home there and have well-known doctors.

– I'm sorry, ma'am, but the doctors in Teresópolis are very good and recognized by the population for an efficient service, comparable to those in Rio de Janeiro.

The helicopter lands in a cloud of dust in the center of the hospital's courtyard lawn. Lying on a transport stretcher, João Henrique is accompanied by two nurses and a rescue worker.

The aircraft flies over the Serra dos Órgãos mountains, an infinitely deep blue-green. A dense fog disappears with the device, over just the typical sound of a bee sandwiched on the glass, turning the path between life and death – black and white, fear and sigh, lightning and surface – to be infinitely cruel to Roberta and Tatiana from now on. And who said life would not be predestined to be hung by a thread?