Histories Worthy Of Remembering.
In the middle of the year they received a visit of their uncles and grandmother. And that was reason enough for celebration, family reunion boosted with "tutu" and crusted ham, cheese and guava, cheap wine and country music.
At that party the older boy found his first and great passion. He sat in the circle of men formed around the uncles who came from Rio de janeiro and were showing their skills in guitars. He watched astonished the hands movements creating sounds and rhythms while the uncles played together the "Bachianinha".
Realizing his interest, the younger and patient uncle decided to teach him some basic positions and rhythms, and discovered that his nephew had a real talent for music. The more the boy learned, the more the uncle felt motivated to teach.
The boy began to ask his father to buy him a guitar. As his son's passion did not diminish with time, the father ventured.
A month later, the boy came home from school and saw on his bed a old and black Gianini guitar, with brand new nylon strings, and even out of tune.
That guitar would be his partner for hours and hours, and the very first of his future vast collection!
The new house, near the fertilizer plant, was quite large with good neighbors.
The baker usually spent his morning delivering bread and milk at his client's doorsteps. He kept a notebook for each family that would only pay the bill later, at the end of the month.
The boys, one 12 and the other 7, were studying in different schools, all mornings.
The girls now played together with their new neighbors, too sisters who lived next door.
They used to wake up early in the morning to play with their "Susis" dolls, exchanging each other's doll's clothes in make-believe tea, birthday or wedding parties. As they had only one doll, each one, they didn't get confused with the trades. They also enjoyed playing hide and seek, and chop-chop-top, sometimes.
Once, they discovered that some neighbors had moved and forgot to tell the baker about it. Then, as he left the usual order on the empty house's door,the girls did not resist the temptation. It was an adventure to secretly catch the bread and milk and use them at their parties and picnics, for fun.
Thankfully, it was almost the end of the month, because the baker took almost a week to realize that their customers did not live there anymore...
The small town in the east of Minas Gerais was hidden in a great valley and was surrounded by many farms of coffee.
In the rain seasons , the manure store used to have good profit. The coffee-growers have started the planting in the vast and beautiful hills, covered of rows and rows properly plowed, forming impressive geometrical drawings in the scenery.
In the middle of May, the hills used to be green and ready for the harvest. The farms needed to employ temporary works.
The store began to be small for so many demands. That was the moment to expand their business!
The father, the mother and their four children moved nearby, to a little bigger and promising city, then. He went of manager of a small warehouse to the administrator of a small factory of manure.
Now, he could buy presents, real ones, for his children in Christmas, and place them on top of their small shoes, beside their bed, pretending to be Santa Claus.
The biggest joy, however, was when he arrived home one day in a "Brasilia", a green-avocado car, pulling the horn and inviting all for a turn in the city.
In that day they ate ice cream in downtown, and returned home for a fresh coffee, to finish the celebration with golden key!
The boys grew hearing stories told by their grandfather, scare histories. The legend of the Dumb without a head was the one he repeated over and over, especially when they passed by a certain junction on the road between the ranch and the city.
The life in the city was peaceful at those days, and the boys lived loose, playing in the streets. At times, they traveled alone, on foot, to visit the grandfather. A walk of almost an hour.
In that Saturday, after playing all day long, they decided in an impulse to go to the ranch. The sun began to fall and they were already gone half the way.
" Dim, It's going to get dark quickly. Do you think we'll be able to cross the junction before the night arrive? "
His eyes stared. The grandfather always said that the beast appeared at night, and killed his victims of fright. "
Let's go faster, then! " Dim answered.
And so it was.
The boys gave small trots hoping to win the race against the nightfall. But, their calculations were not correct at all.
When they arrived in the curve before the junction it was already completely dark, and only the full moon was illuminating the way.
The two stopped there for a couple of minutes, looking for breath and courage to cross the junction, like flashes of lightning.
Suddenly, they heard a crack in the bushes. The oldest, in a reflex, grabbed at the Dim's hand and the two of them ran as fast as they could, back home.
They arrived there quicker than if they were driving a car!
