37. I Don't Want to Lose You

Adriana Tanese Nogueira

Even in the middle of a Sunday morning, down town São Paulo was busy. Antonio drove watchfully. It was the first time he was moving overtly through the city after he had become a wanted man. He felt nervous but tried not to look other than an individual going to visit his family. He recalled his picture in the police poster. He looked chubby there, different from how his appearance actually was. He trusted people wouldn’t recognize him. Besides, what would a supposedly terrorist do in an elegant street of the city? Only someone crazy. Or daring enough to trust his luck. Or his guts. That was his case. He knew in an irrational way that he could take that risk. His inner voice instigated him to be audacious. Either right or wrong, his siblings needed to be warned, for their own sake. Antonio didn’t want anything bad happening to them.

    Rachel’s town house was located in Alameda Lorena, a residential street situated close to fancy boutiques and jewelry shops. Antonio spotted the building on the left. Everything looked quiet, passersby seemed to be innocuous, no suspicious cars were stopped nearby. His confidence grew stronger. Now, it was a matter of being quick about what he had to do.

    He parked a few blocks ahead and searched for a phone booth.     “Hello?” a soft woman’s voice answered.

    “Good morning, Dona Marta. It’s Antonio, I need a favor.”

    “Hi, Antonio. It’s okay, what is it?”

    “I can’t reach my sister. There must be some problem with their phone. Could you call her, please?”

    “Sure, don’t worry.”

    Dona Marta went to knock at her neighbor’s door.

    “Coming!” A female voice answered.

    Rachel opened the door. With the back of her hand, she cleaned the bread crumble on the corners of her mouth, “I was having breakfast,” she explained, smiling cheerfully.

    “Rachel, your brother’s on the phone.”

    She followed Dona Marta inside her hall and grabbed the phone, “Hey, Toninho, what’s up? Why didn’t you call home?”

    “We’ve got a problem. Come down with Osni. I need to talk to both of you. I’m in the car, parked two blocks ahead.”

    “What?” She asked, puzzled.

    “I can’t explain now. Just come.”

    Sitting in the car, Antonio waited. Although his senses were alert, he, intentionally, exhibited tranquility. He glanced at the rear view mirror, checking his appearance, and was pleased to see that he matched with the neighborhood. In a suit and with polished shoes, Antonio kept himself in the relaxed posture he used to have when feeling comfortable. The difference was that, this time, he wore a moustache and carried a revolver against his chest. 

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