\Transformation
In her
dream Jacinta run۔d
through the Sao Paulo shanty·town of Leonor, chase۔t by her landlady, who wuz wield۔ing a black fry·pan. Jacinta jag۔d
leftside۔ward, down۔ward a slight۔ly slope۔y hill line۔t on each side with shantys: tiny one and two-room۔s shacks construct۔d of discard۔d
scraps of metal, wood, and cardboard, fasten۔d
together with nails and wire or rope, top۔d
with rocks or bricks to keep the metal۔y
or plastic roof۔in
from blow۔ing
away. That early evenin, the sky not
quite black, mothers wuz cook۔ing
on open fires in front of they’s shantys.
The air smell۔t
of rice and noodles mix۔t
with the stink of garbage and poop.
Nearby, groups of filth۔y
brown-skin۔y boys,
clothe۔t in rags,
happy۔ly play۔d football with a ball
comprise۔t of rags
tieknot۔t tight۔ly together. An open sewer trickle۔d along the center of the mud۔y lane. As Jacinta run۔d,
she feel۔d her breasts
flap۔ing against her
rib۔s inside her fade۔y yellow cotton dress. She had lose۔d
one of her sandals, and she try۔d
to maintain her speed without slide۔ing
on the slippery mud. Behind she, the pat-pat-pat of persistent foot·steps, as
the fat landlady shout۔d
obscenitys and, every time she reach۔d
within strike۔in
distance, raise۔d
menace۔ly the fry·pan. "Come back you wrench! Pay now!" Then, as
Jacinta run۔d, a small
naked boy step۔d
direct۔ly across her
path, force۔ing she to
lurch rightside۔ward. Her bare foot slide۔d across green slime. She shriek۔d
as she lose۔d her
balance, fall۔d heavy۔ly on her rump, and slide۔d down·hill in the slow۔ly flow۔ing sewer, it’s green۔ish brown water feel۔ing warm. When she look۔d
up۔ward, her landlady
wuz upon she, fry·pan come۔ing
down۔ward toward her
face. She raise۔d her hands, not with palms out۔ward in self۔defense, but with her hands
clasp۔d together,
finger intertwine۔d,
face۔ing not her
violent threat but much far۔er
up۔ward, toward where
she envision۔d heaven
would be. Cry۔d she, “Jesus, save me!” * Jacinta
awake۔d – from what
she realize۔d wuz a nightmare. Her hands, she notice۔d, wuz still clasp۔d together.
She sit۔d up in her single bed,
reach۔d over, and
switch۔d on the
lamp. Safe, still in her tiny room, on
the second floor·level of Coutinho's Boardinghouse. She look۔d
up۔ward at the blister۔y ceil۔in, and say۔d outloud, “Thank you,
Jesus!” Her digital
clock indicate۔d 12:43
(slight۔by after mid۔night) and 13 November 2015
(18 days before her rent wuz expect۔t). Look۔ing at the wood۔y crucifix on the
side·table, she thank۔d
Jesus that she dint reside in a favela
(the Portugal۔ese word
for the dirt-poor crime-infest۔y
hill۔side shanty·towns
that litter۔d Brasil
nation in South America continent), and pray۔d
for those who do۔d. Early۔er that day, she next
remember۔d, her best
employ۔or, Guilherme
Alves, had inform۔d
she that his tradeco wuz transfer۔ing
he to the distant city of Rio de Janeiro -- which mean۔d she would nolonger be clean۔ing his apartment once per
week. That leave۔d she with only two apartments to clean. Thus, she would be earn۔ing less than her minimum
expense: rent and food. She switch۔d off the lamp, and lay۔d on her rear۔side, eyes open, see۔ing nothin but black. Her terrify۔y
dream, which had seem۔d
as real as life, wuz fast fade۔ing
from memory, but -- her hand verify۔d
by touch۔ing her
forehead -- she wuz still perspire۔ing. One moment disaster had seem۔d imminent – her landlady
had been on the brink of beat۔ing
she mercy۔lessly with
the heavy object, and if she survive۔d
she would be home۔less,
possess۔ing no more
than an old dress soak۔d
in smell۔y slime – and
the next moment she had awake۔d
in her clean warm safe bed, in a room whose rent had been pay۔t. Yet even
that reality, although a vast improvement over her dream, wuz precarious. Unless she could find more work, the
nightmare could become reality. ‘If only I
could change my own reality that quick۔ly,’
she muse۔d, then
return۔d to sleep. * When she
next awake۔d – because
of a throb۔ing pain in
her belly -- it wuz dawn, Sunday mornin, but still too early to go to
church. Her first thought wuz to
remember that she had lose۔d
her best job, represent۔ing
almost half in earn۔ins,
so that, if she dint find another quick۔ly,
she could nolonger afford her room rent.
`But find another job where?’ she wonder۔d. Barely a week go۔d by without she leave۔ing her name with apartment build۔in manage۔ors or on yet another
factory wait·list. With only an
elementary·school education, she wuz·not qualify۔d
for anythin better. Then she remember۔d, vague۔ly, her nightmare, with the
thought that her life could be – and soon possible۔ly would be – much worse. To conserve
money she skip۔d
breakfast; instead, she flowpour۔d
herself a drink·glass of water and sip۔d
it, wish۔ing her
husband wuz there to help. Then, again,
she reflect۔d back on
the afternoon she had marry۔d
Alfonso Machado at Jesus Our Savior church, in the tiny village of Boa Vista,
in hill۔y farm۔land of Rio Grande do Sul,
Brasil's southern-most province. She had
been dress۔d in white
lace and carry۔d
yellow daffodil flowers, and everybody say۔d
she appear۔d
beautyful. So full of promise, her world
seem۔d then! In Rio Grand do Sul there wuz scant work and
an over-abundance of young job seek۔ors,
therefore the couple prepare۔d
to re۔locate north۔ward to Sao Paulo, Brasil’s
big۔est city. Alfonso, a clever man who beside farm۔in knowledge wuz adept at
fix۔ing bicycles, had
save۔d enough money to
re۔locate. Only the bold had an opportunity of escape۔ing subsistence farm۔in, to step into the world
of riches, which could be glimpse۔t
every night on television. But Sao
Paulo wuz swarm۔ing
with millions of other bold rural peoples with big dreams and little education
or market۔able
skills. None of the many bicycle store۔ets Alfonso visit۔d need۔d assistance; when they do۔d, they would train kins to
fill vacancys. One shop own۔or complain۔d that he had fend۔d off six other job-seek۔ors that same day, which
discourage۔d
Alfonso. He dream۔d of become۔ing
a car mechanic, but know۔d
of no way to learn how. Home۔less boys monopolize۔d shoe-shine۔in. Then a
woman from church offer۔d
Jacinta a job clean۔ing
an apartment in a luxury apartment build۔in,
and that job lead۔d to
two others. Alfonso, meanwhile, branch۔d into steal۔in, which cause۔d Jacinta sleep۔less nights. And he soon discover۔d that the sprawl۔ing city wuz divide۔d into territorys of gangs, who resent۔d independent thiefs. A gang invite۔d
he – threaten۔ly – to
join, but once join۔ing
a gang and become۔ing
privy to it’s secrets, depart۔ing
it wuz difficult – and dangerous – and Alfonso continue۔d to hope that his un۔legal activitys wuz temporary. The Bible say۔d,
“Do not steal”, and he want۔d
desperate۔ly to
obey. Nor wuz the couple ready to birth
a baby until he had stable (mean۔ing
also legal) earn۔ins. Initial۔ly Alfonso main۔ly steal۔d food, but later he
specialize۔d in remove۔ing radios from park۔t cars and sell۔ing they to a gang
membort. One night police come۔d to the two-room apartment
the Machado couple wuz rent۔ing,
and arrest۔d Alfonso
for burglary. He remain۔d in jail 183 days await۔ing lawcourttrial, then dur
lawcourt proceed۔ins
feel۔d astonish۔d to see the gang membor to
who he had been sell۔ing
radios, testify against he. A deal had
been arrange۔t between
the gang (who rid۔d
theyselfs of a compete۔or)
and a police-man (who receive۔d
credit for an arrest). The judge
sentence۔d Alfonso to
four years in prison. Jacinta,
devastate۔y, consider۔d re۔locate۔ing
back to Rio Grande do Sul, but she could not bear to tell they’s familys that
Alfonso had been jail۔t
for steal۔in, and,
there being no work for she there, she would only be add۔ing to her poor family’s burden. She visit۔d
her husband every Sunday after church, until, not quite one year later, authoritys
re۔locate۔d he to a low۔er-security prison much far۔er west۔ward. Twice her employ۔ors re۔locate۔d from the area, but both
occasions they recommend۔d
she to new employ۔ors,
thus she continue۔d to
earn enough to pay her rent and purchase food.
A year go۔d by,
and then another, with no communication with her husband. She re۔locate۔d to a cheap۔er neighbor۔hood, to a cheap۔er room. Other mans sometimes approach۔d she, but she refuse۔d they’s entreatys; she wuz
still marry۔d, and the
Bible state۔d that
adultery wuz a sin. Another lonely year
go۔d by. Sudden۔ly – the mornin after her
nightmare, as she wuz reminisce۔ing
about her botch۔t life
– Jacinta sit۔d up in
bed, wince۔ing with
pain. Her hand reflex۔ly go۔d to her abdomen. Inside of she, somethin feel۔d terrible۔by wrong. Paulino, the maintenance man at the apartment
build۔in, had tell۔d she that the same thing
had been wrong with his aunt, mention۔ing
a long word that she could not remember.
“The cure iz surgery,” he had tell۔d
she, but ofcourse she could not afford that.
“If you dont fix it, you could die,” he say۔d the doctor had warn۔d his aunt, who after surgery had full۔ly recover۔d. Jacinta’s
pain go۔d away as
sudden۔ly as it had
arrive۔d, leave۔ing she pant۔ing, and afraid. * The one
bright spot in the life of Jacinta Lemos Machado wuz attend۔ing church on Sundays –
which wuz when she feel۔d
near۔est to her best
friend, Jesus. Thus that mornin, wear۔ing her white dress with
big red dots, as she walk۔d
along tree-line۔t
Boulevard of Angels past blocks of shut۔t
store۔ets, there wuz bounce
in her steps, and a smile on her pretty face.
Alike almost everybody in province Rio Grande do Sul, and most peoples
in Brasil, she and her husband had been birth۔d
into a strict Catholic Christian family.
But upon re۔locate۔ing to Sao Paulo the couple
switch۔d to an
Evangelical Christian church, which also center۔d
around the teach۔ins
of Jesus, but include۔d
heartwarm۔y
modern-sound۔y songs
and long sermons appropriate to day۔y
life. She and Alfonso always manage۔d to put ten percent of
they’s meager earn۔ins
into the collection dish, a practice – dub۔d
tithe -- that Jacinta, since her husband had been jail۔d, had manage۔d
to almost always continue. Jesus Saves
Evangelical church, locate۔d
in a convert۔t
warehouse, feature۔d a
four-mans electric musicband, and an inspire۔ing
young minister۔ort. The ceremony begin۔d with a live۔y
song thank۔ing Jesus
for come۔ing, follow۔t by a sery of prayers,
then a long sermon about the importance of teach۔in
children morality not by mere words but by deeds. Jacinta internalize۔d the message, but she feel۔d sad that she still had no
children, nor any realistic prospect of birth۔ing
any. Into the
collection dish she dutyful۔ly
put۔d in exact۔by one-dee۔ten of that week’s
wage. But she fear۔d that it would be her last
tithe dur a long while, especial۔ly
if she soon become۔d,
as seem۔d probable,
home۔less. The church
ceremony end۔d with
all parishionors stand۔ing
and shout۔ing they’s
praise of God, Jacinta as loud۔ly
as anybody. As
everybody depart۔d,
Jacinta remain۔d in
her pew. With the end of the exhilarate۔y ceremony, her gray life,
with it’s loom۔ing
bleak prospect, return۔d
to her mind. If she skimp۔d on meals, she could
possible۔ly have enough
money for one more month’s room rent, but afterward, if she could not find
another job, her landlady would evict she.
Without a place to bathe and storekeep her clothes, hold۔ing on to her remain۔y two jobs – her only
source of food money – would be difficult, eventual۔ly probable۔ly
not possible. Her husband, if he wuz
still alive, languish۔d
in some distant prison. Her potential۔by life-threaten۔y abdomen pain seem۔d progressive۔by worse. Already almost age 25 years old, and still no
baby. Kneel۔ing at her pew, she bow۔d her head and shut۔d her eyes. She remember۔d
the previous night’s nightmare. At her
moment of impend۔y
doom, she had call۔d
on Jesus to save she, and he had yank۔d
she out of that terrible smell۔y
reality and had set۔d
she down in a better one. `Better, but
still not good.’ What she need۔d, again, she think۔d, wuz to be yank۔t out of her present
situation, into a good reality: one with
a husband employ۔t,
and a nest suit۔able
for babys. “Jesus,”
she pray۔d, as she had
dur her nightmare, “please save me!” She open۔d her eyes, rub۔d they with her fingers,
and stand۔d to
go. Turn۔ing
toward the aisle, she see۔d
a short lank۔y man
walk۔ing quick۔ly toward she – her husband
Alfonso. She
lookstare۔d, initial۔ly in non۔belief. Thin۔er,
he wuz wear۔ing a new۔ish short-sleeve۔y white shirt and a press۔d blue trouser. He wuz grin۔ing
wide۔ly. “Alfonso!?” “Jacinta!”
he call۔d back joyful۔ly, run۔d the remain۔y few steps. Soon they wuz embrace۔ing. Speech۔less with happy۔ness, it seem۔d alike a long time before
she final۔ly pull۔d away and exclaim۔d, ”You iz out of prison!” “Dur almost
a year now,” he answer۔d. “They release۔d
me five months early. All this time,
look۔ing for
you.” He add۔d, “Back in Rio Grande do Sul, nobody know۔d where you wuz.” She shake۔d her head no. “I could not go back, poor as they iz, and
add to they’s burden.” She look۔d at his new clothes,
wonder۔ing if he had
steal۔d they. “I have a
job now,” he continue۔d. “I·iz an auto mechanic, can you believe
it? They teach۔d me in prison – an experiment program for
imprison۔eers of
non-violent crimes who demonstrate good behavior. I have a partnort now and we have a one-car
garage that iz our work·place. We iz
honest and thorough, thus we have a steady flow of customors.” Jacinta
could barely believe what she wuz earhear۔ing. “And you,”
he say۔d tentative۔ly. “You dint re۔marry?” “How could
I re۔marry when I iz
already marry۔d?” She throw۔d
up her arms and look۔d
toward the church’s high ceil۔in. “Jesus know, I do۔d not look at another man.” “As for me,
Jesus know, I also remain۔d
faithful,” he tell۔d
she, and they hug۔d
again. When they
pull۔d away, the
church wuz almost empty, only three old womans talk۔ing to the minister۔or below a stainglass window depict۔ing baby Jesus in the arms
of his mother Mary in a horsestable.
Along the central aisle, mistor and misses Machado walk۔d together, hand in hand,
out۔ward through the
tall double-doors into bright sun·light.
Jacinta had not notice۔d
early۔er, but it wuz a
beautyful day, warm but not hot, not humid. They stand۔d outside the church. “A miracle
that we find۔d each
other!” she exclaim۔d. In the sprawl۔ing
city and it’s suburbs reside۔d
ap 20 millions peoples. “Since you
dint go home, I know۔d
you would still be in Sao Paulo,” he answer۔d. “And I know you go to church every
Sunday. Thus I go to a different church
every Sunday; I iz one of the first to depart, and stand outside the door eye۔ing every parishionor. Then, to be certain, I go back inside to
check for straggle۔ors. I know۔d
I would someday find you.” At the word
“straggle۔ors” Jacinta
laugh۔d. She still feel۔d
daze۔y, as though
awake۔ing from a
dream. It had not occur۔d to she that Alfonso had
been release۔d from prison,
and had been search۔ing
for she. She realize۔d then that, down deep, she
believe۔d he had been
kill۔t, the fate of
many mans in Brasil’s violent prisons. Alfonso
continue۔d, “I have
save۔d some
money. We can rent an apartment. Do you still want babys?” That cause۔d she to turn to he again,
eyes tear۔y, for more
hugs. “Lets
walk,” wuz all she could final۔ly
manage to say. As they
stroll۔d along
Boulevard of Angels he tell۔d
she about his mechanics garage, but she could not listen clear۔ly. She wuz think۔ing
about her prayer, and how, for the second occasion dur less than a day, Jesus
had yank۔d she from a
bad situation and set۔d
she down in a much better one. Sudden۔by her hand go۔d to her belly and she
tiltlean۔d forward
with pain. “What iz
it?” Alfonso cry۔d. “What
iz wrong?” The pain
feel۔d so sharp she
could barely talk, or think. The long
name for what wuz probable۔ly
wrong she had forget۔d. Alfonso
dart۔d into the street
and hand·wave۔d over a
taxi. He open۔d the door and help۔d his wife – still bend۔d over double – into the white car. To the
drive۔ort he direct۔d, “To the near۔est hospital. Quick۔ly!” * The surgery
to remove her appendix wuz a success, and one year later, in a three-rooms۔y apartment above Alfonso’s
new double-garage work·place, Jacinta, nurse۔ing
they’s baby daughter Dionisia, wuz ecstatic۔ly
happy. * *
* |
To write a comment about the story or the
language, click here. This story is from a collection of Christian short stories, Christianity, by Flora Morales. Click link for details. You have read the story in species language Peoplese, Alike English version. Did you notice how the spelling of the root word never changes? How the past tense is always formed by adding hyphnette "d"? For a quick overview, read Peoplese home page. So are you ready for pure Peoplese? The Sound Spell Same (SSS) version completely eliminates the need to memorize spelling words -- because if you hear a word, you know exactly how to spell it, if you read a word you know exactly how to pronounce it. A 7-year-old boy, after five 15-minute learning sessions, henceforth could spell any of thousands of words in SSS Peoplese. Spend 20 minutes reading the Peoplese SSS page, and you are ready to go. To read the above story in Peoplese SSS, click here. green-giraffe.org home page. |