THE PROCESSION TO THE HOSPITAL - By Colin MIranda
They say there are bad things that come for good. And today's story is living proof of that. For those who missed the previous episode ("As Pitangas"), here's a summary of my misfortune: because of my gluttony, I lost the money from a warrant, received a memorable beating from a "bull's beak" and was grounded in my room, enjoying the pain and humiliation.
I thought that was the unluckiest day of my life. But I was wrong.
That punishment, which kept me stuck at home while everyone else played in the street, turned out to be my shield. Because outside, without "Netcho" (me) around to control operations, the group was preparing for a snack that almost ended in tragedy.
The group reorganized quickly. There was my sister Dilo, my neighbors Ivete and Vivi (Nha Vinda's daughters), a guy called Marlon (who had come for a vacation and parachuted into the mess) and a few others.
As in any group of children, there is always a hierarchy. And that afternoon, the Supreme Leader was my sister Dilo. She was in charge and ran the "little house".
The "little house" was an example of engineering and recycling: lunch was made from tamarind leaves, the plates were gallon lids and the sofas were empty matchboxes. All very creative.
But that afternoon, the menu had a gourmet dish: Camoca.
It wasn't pretend camoca. It was real, sweet camoca, which they had managed to steal from home.
I, gluttonous as I've always been, if I hadn't been grounded, would have been the first to plunge my hand into that dish. But fate (and the bull's beak) kept me away.
It so happens that, in the middle of the feast, the typical children's drama took place: the sharing failed. Dilo, Ivete and one or two others ate all the food and left poor Vivi sucking her thumb.
Vivi, outraged by the social injustice, did what any wronged child would do: she went to complain to the highest authority. She ran to my mother's window and dropped the bombshell:
- "Hey..." (that's what my mother called her) "...Dilo ku Ivete cumé camoca es só, es ka parti ku mi!"
My mother, who was still recovering from the stress of my lost money, frowned.
- Camoca? What camoca? Tell them to come here now!
When Dilo arrived, my mother asked where they'd gotten it.
- I found it on a plate behind the cupboard... - confessed Dilo, trembling.
That's when the color drained from my mother's face. Panic set in.
That was no ordinary snack. That plate had been strategically placed behind the furniture to catch a mouse that was wandering around the house.
The shrimp was loaded with poison.
Chaos ensued in Santana.
My mother, desperate, began to apply the emergency homemade antidote: MILK.
It was milk for Dilo, milk for Ivete, milk for Marlon... milk was poured down the throats of all the "poisoned" people to try to cut the effect.
But when in doubt, the milk wasn't enough. They had to go to the hospital.
My aunt Loi was urgently called to lead the mission. And that's when one of the most cartoonish scenes of our childhood took place.
Just imagine: a group of children, all with milk whiskers and eyes wide with fear, walking in single file, hurrying like cattle on their way to the pen.
Whoever passed by on the street stared, not understanding anything:
- "But what's going on with the minisos of Santana?"
They went in procession to the emergency room to wash their stomachs and make sure that the rat didn't have human company.
Fortunately, and thank God, everything turned out fine. The scare was greater than the damage and everyone survived to tell the tale (and to take a well-deserved beating afterwards).
About me?
Well, I was in my room, safe and sound thanks to the beating I'd taken.
That day, I learned that God writes crooked lines. If I hadn't stopped to pick pitangas, I would have been in that queue on the way to the hospital. And knowing my gluttony, I would have eaten more camoca than all of them put together.
Deep down, the pitangas and the bull's beak were my guardian angels.
..................................................................
Who here has ever eaten something they shouldn't have as a child? Or who ever got out of a good one because they were grounded? ![</div>
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