PART III

1963

August 10, Saturday

Sónia and I laugh and chatter as we make our way back home from the Saturday-morning market, laden with fruit and vegetables fresh from the farms nearby, and beef and sausage to barbecue for lunch today. The sun is barely up but we are wide awake and excited because today is Chico’s thirtieth birthday and we will make a special meal and cake to celebrate. We like to get to the market first thing, because the really good stuff goes quickly. It’s a neighborly atmosphere where everyone knows each other and banters about the weather and how crops are faring.

“Are you sure you want to make that rolled icing for the cake? It’s so much work. Chico will be happy with any of your cakes.” Sónia doesn’t love baking like I do, so it just seems like extra trouble to her.

“I love the way fondant looks, like it’s not real. I love making it. And I’m going to make a lattice on the sides, like woven ribbons. It’s fun to play with.”

Sónia rolls her eyes. “Only you, Eva, only you.” She laughs.

Before long we are back home, where our two houses stand side by side. We have been in Taguatinga for a year now, the satellite city to the west of Brasília. It’s half an hour’s travel into Brasília itself where I have a real job now, but it’s worth it to be buying our own homes. My new job is ironing uniforms for the military officers at the Army barracks, and they send a bus to Taguatinga to pick up workers each morning and take us home at night. Sónia stays home and takes care of the kids. She and Chico now have three kids, with their baby girl Eliane six months old, and she carries the baby while I carry our purchases.

I gratefully drop our shopping baskets on the table in my kitchen, where Sónia and I usually prepare our main meals. On Saturdays and Sundays our families have lunch together, and we usually eat outside on the veranda unless it’s cold or raining. Sónia puts the baby down in the improvised bassinet in the corner of my kitchen.

“Let’s have a café before we get to work, shall we?” I light the burner on the stove.

“Let me check on Carlos.” Sónia peeks in at the door to his room just off the kitchen. “Sound asleep.”

“A train could go through his room and he wouldn’t wake up.” I put the cups and sugar bowl on the table.

Sónia sips her coffee. “Eva, how are your family in Picuí? Any news?”

“I write Papai a letter every month and he writes me back nearly as often. He is still head of the post office, and my stepmother seems to have babies once a year. My brothers and sisters are all fine. Papai always comments on the news from Brasília.”

“That’s good, I know you miss them.”

I sigh. “Yes, I wish I could go see them, but I can’t take time off work, and it’s so expensive to travel. Maybe next year.”

“Chico and Luiz should be home by early- to mid-afternoon, which will give us plenty of time to get everything ready.”

“I’m glad they can take the rest of the weekend off. It’s great there’s still so much construction work, but I didn’t think they’d still be working seven days a week in 1963.” I finish my coffee.

“Well, then, let’s get at it.” Sónia clears the table, quickly washing the cups and setting them in the dish rack to dry.

We each grab an apron and tie our hair back in ponytails. From the pantry shelf I pull down the four cake layers I baked yesterday and set the trays on the table. Sónia washes the tomatoes, onions, green peppers and cilantro and begins chopping them for salsa to serve with the grilled meat. We work without talking, our movements like dancers who’ve been together for years. This too is a happy silence.

By early afternoon everything is ready. The table is set, the meat is ready to grill, and our side dishes are covered with cloths. The cake turned out beautifully and it’s waiting in the pantry. Sónia is sitting on one of the chairs on the veranda giving mamar to Eliane. The other kids are all playing down at the soccer field. Cícera is nine years old and she takes her role as the oldest seriously, keeping a close eye on Lorival and Carlos and bossing them around. No doubt they will get dirty playing in the dusty field but Cícera will get them tidied up, and they will sit at their own little table while the adults enjoy the birthday lunch. It’s almost two o’clock, so Luiz and Chico should be home any minute now. I sit on the chair next to Sónia and sip a glass of water.

She looks over at me. “Eva, don’t you want more kids? I know it was hard when you lost the baby last year, but why don’t you try again?”

I sigh and think a minute before speaking. “It was very sad, and I will never forget her. But that’s not why I’m not in a hurry to get pregnant again.”

“Neither of us wants to have a baby every year, like your stepmother. And I’m really glad to know how to avoid getting pregnant unless I want to. You taught me that.”

“Yes. Dona Severina was not just a midwife, she was a wise woman in so many other ways. I will be forever grateful to her for teaching me how to pay attention to my cycles and how to know the signs of the fertile time.”

“But why not have another baby? You’re a wonderful mother.”

“I love babies more than anything in the world. And watching Carlos grow up, I keep wishing I could stop time. But every age is wonderful.”

“So why not another, maybe a little girl so you have one of each?”

“I want to be able to chase my dreams, and that means I have to be more independent. I want to start my own real business one day. I’ve learned a lot selling sweets and salgados, but I have something bigger in mind.”

“Well, if anyone can do it, it’s you. You work harder than anyone I know. Are you still happy with your job at the military barracks?”

“Oh yes. The supervisor is very demanding, but when he criticizes me I just know he’s helping me learn to do better. How well I iron the uniforms reflects on the officers who wear them.”

Voices outside mean Luiz and Chico are back home. Sónia unlatches Eliane from the breast and holds her against her shoulder, patting her so she’ll burp. I go to the front door and greet them. “How was your day? I hope you’re hungry, because we have lots of food that needs to be eaten!”

Luiz laughs. “No worries about that, we’ll just take our showers and I’ll light the barbecue.” Chico heads over to his house, Luiz grabs a towel from the peg by the back door and goes out to the bath house, and after just a bit of splashing around he is buttoning a fresh shirt and folding me in his arms, kissing me.

“I’m so hungry I could eat a whole cow. Let’s get this meat grilled.”

He starts the fire in the barbecue. “Are the kids down at the soccer field?”

When I nod yes he lets out a piercing whistle to call them home.

After lunch, singing “Happy Birthday” and eating cake and washing up afterwards, I call Cícera to come into the kitchen. “Querida, take these pieces of cake to the neighbor lady and her husband.”

“Yes, Auntie.” And she is out the front door with a skip in her step. Everyone loves birthday cake so it’s a happy chore.

I hang my apron on the peg behind the back door and rejoin everyone on the veranda. Luiz and Chico are drinking cold beer, sitting at the table in earnest discussion.

Luiz’s voice is a bit louder than usual. “Listen, we are on the brink of a revolution. Jango is on the right track with workers’ reforms and making things more equal for people, but you know, he’s a millionaire himself so he doesn’t mind if things take a while to improve. But land reform and workers’ rights can’t wait!” Like everyone, Luiz calls President Goulart by his nickname, “Jango.” Jango was vice president to J.K. when Brasília was just beginning to be built, when I washed Jango’s wife Dona Maria Thereza’s clothes in the creek. It seems so long ago.

Chico jumps in agreement. “Yes, the workers’ party is on the brink of a real dawn of equality and justice for Brazil. And it can’t come soon enough, with things getting more expensive and the cruzeiro constantly being devalued. And the people who suffer are the workers, not the powerful people in charge.”

“This meeting tomorrow is very important. I’m glad we’ll be there to show solidarity and help propel the movement forward.” Luiz’s dark eyes are intent and his mood is somber.

I can’t stay quiet. “Luiz, I didn’t know you were going to a political meeting tomorrow. I’m really worried about you and Chico being so involved in this.”

Luiz turns to look at me, then looks at Chico. He takes a deep breath before speaking. “Querida, the future of Brazil is at stake. The future of the people is at stake. We can’t sit idly by. We must put our shoulders to the task, alongside others.”

I look down at my hands in my lap, and say nothing more.