1948

January 12, Monday

The first day of school is hot and dusty. Daniel, Ana and I walk to school together. Senhora Rocha greets us at the gate. We are early, so I have time to talk with my friends before school begins. My friend Júlia is in the school yard.

“Eva, did you have a nice Christmas?” she asks.

“Yes, Júlia, how about you?”

“Yes, we had family visiting from up north, then they went south by bus.”

“We had a quiet time at home, my new brother José is three months old.”

“I know you love babies, Eva!”

“Babies and cooking!” We laugh.

“Did you hear about the cinema they are going to have in the main square tonight?”

“Cinema? In the praça?”

“There’s some people that travel to towns and bring a movie. They put a big cloth up and everyone can watch! It’s going to be late because it has to be really dark.”

“Oh, I hadn’t heard about that. Will you go?”

“No, I have to be in bed. My father won’t let me. It’s for adults.”

I have to go see what the cinema in the praça is like. I have heard people talk about the movies but we have never had movies in Picuí. I can’t imagine what it must be like. I do all my chores and homework and get all the kids into bed a little bit early. Papai and Madrasta are in the living room talking.

“Papai, Senhora, I am going to bed now.” Papai looks surprised.

“Eva, it’s early. Have you done all your homework, and are you ready for school tomorrow?”

“Yes, Papai, it’s all done.”

“All right, then, good night. Sleep with the angels.”

“Good night, Papai, good night, Senhora.”

I close the bedroom door and get into bed with my clothes still on. João and Miriam are breathing softly, so I know they are asleep. I listen for a while to be sure. I almost can’t breathe. I get up and open the window as quietly as I can. Out the window, around the corner of the house, to the side gate. The gate is never used and makes a squeaking noise when I open it, and I hold my breath for a few seconds. I close and latch the gate and start walking to the praça.

I keep to the shadows; a couple stumbles, laughing, out of the door to a house and I back up against the wall so they won’t see me. People in the streets are walking toward the main square.

There are little lights on strings hanging from the lamp posts around the praça, and tables and chairs have been moved from the café to the center of the square. I squat down in the darkness of the bushes while I look around. A large white cloth is hanging from the gazebo, and people are drinking and talking, some are smoking. When the square is full of people, a man walks in front of the cloth and claps his hands for attention.

“Ladies and gentlemen! We are pleased to present a cinematic extravaganza all the way from Rio de Janeiro and São Paulo! Watch carefully, and at the conclusion of our film we will be offering products for sale. Only the most discerning among you will appreciate the quality and uniqueness of our offerings, designed to improve your health and beauty, and supplies are limited! Without further ado, Cine Espetacular!”

All the lights around the square are switched off. There is another man across from the suspended cloth who has a metal box that he does something to and a flickering light comes out the end. I am close enough to see insects in the light, then I look over to the cloth and there are images of a big city, cars driving and lightning coming out of the top of a building. Then people in fancy clothes, dancing. Then a beautiful woman’s face covers the whole cloth and she is painting her lips and patting the tall shiny hair on her head. I could watch it forever, but too quickly the metal box makes a clicking sound and the images turn to spots.

People in the praça are talking and pointing, looking at the cloth and then back at the man with the metal box. Then the other man gets up again and gestures toward some tables and invites everyone to come look. I want to see what it is so badly but I can’t let them see a kid out alone at night. And I have to get home! If the babies wake up Papai and Madrasta will find out I’m gone and I’ll be in the worst trouble of my life.

I hurry home, hiding in the shadows whenever I hear voices, my heart bumping in my chest. When I get home the house is dark and I open the creaky gate as slowly as I can. Holding my breath, I open my bedroom window just a little and listen. No sound. I open the window some more and pull myself up and in. I sit on the floor under the window for a long time, listening. I close and latch the window and undress in the dark.

I lie awake a long time, listening to be sure no one is awake. And thinking about the big city, about the beautiful woman with shiny hair and painted lips.