Free City of God by Paulo Lins, Cara Shores Page A

rainy morning arrived, people on their way to work went over to the corpses to see if they were anyone they knew, then went on their way. At around nine o’clock, Boss of Us All, who had clocked on at 7.30, went to see the thief’s corpse. When he pulled back the sheet covering the body, he concluded, ‘It’s a gangster.’ He had two tattoos; on his left arm was a woman with her legs spread and her eyes closed, and on his right arm was Saint George, the warrior saint. He was still wearing Charlote flip-flops, tapered trousers and a colourful T-shirt made by prisoners. At the other end of the square on Block Fifteen, however, when his steps brought him to the image of Francisco’s body, a slight nervousness in his policeman’s heart grew unchecked until it turned into all-out despair. The stiff belonged to a worker. Burning hatred seeped through his pores in a cold sweat. He suspected it was a fellow countryman. His suspicion did not betray him, for when he examined the dead man’s ID he saw that he was from the state of Ceará. His anger was renewed and the flame of revenge kindled.
    He asked around the area for information. Nothing. He headed down Middle Street, turned the corner behind the church and decided to cross the Rec. He stopped at corners, giving some people a frisking, others a punch in the face. Those who took off running got bullets – if they ran it was because they’d done something wrong. He appeared on street corners believing he was an exposed high-voltage wire. He was the thunder in the rain that was falling, he made the squares shudder, stretched the alleys – he was Boss of Us All in a fury, ready to avenge the death of a fellow countryman. Any gangster that crossed his path would die mercilessly. Before he reached Block Thirteen, he ran into two other policemen, who decided to accompany him.
    Pipsqueak raced down Front Street on a bicycle trying to get to Block Thirteen before the police. As he turned down the street where the Short-Stay Houses were, he ran into Niftyfeet strolling towards the bus stop.
    â€˜Hey, man! That fuckin’ pig’s lost it and he’s headin’ down this way. I’ve come to warn the boys. Where’s Hellraiser?’
    â€˜He must be at his place. Know where it is?’
    â€˜Uh-huh.’
    â€˜So nip over there to let him know.’
    A few minutes later, Pipsqueak and Hellraiser were hiding out in the Big Plot, a vacant lot near the exit on the road to Barra da Tijuca, while Boss of Us All broke down doors on Block Thirteen and fired at windows. The old woman who lived with her grandchildren threw an aluminium plate at his head, and he responded with a shot, which hit her youngest grandchild in the leg. Boss of Us All swore at the top of his lungs and knocked over bins. Killing a worker was really fucking unfair … The poor guy must have come to this hole of a big city for the same reason he had, and those niggers had finished him off like that. He brokedown Lúcia Maracanã’s door and saw her lying there, completely naked. Lúcia pulled the sheet up over her breasts and her eyes gave off a false sense of calm. For a second, Boss of Us All was relieved of his hatred as he admired her strong body, but he quickly got a grip on himself.
    â€˜Where’s your fella, you black bitch?’
    â€˜I ain’t got no man, and you can’t just go bustin’ into people’s places like this. And you know – that’s why I don’t like the fuckin’ Military Police! Especially fuckin’ northerners!’
    Boss of Us All set into her with punches and kicks and Lúcia retaliated by biting him, but he managed to seize her.
    â€˜Let go of me, you filthy northerner!’
    Outside, the other policemen were firing repeatedly at Pelé and Shorty, who jumped through the window of the house in which they had been sleeping, turned down an alley, took a right and crossed the