by R Vidovix
Branquinha, Zulmira, Carmen and Pequena sat on the porch waiting for Seu Mineiro, the black and tall gentleman who sold fruit and vegetable in the morning and fruit salad in the afternoons.
“Today is even hotter than yesterday.” Carmen fanned herself for the millionth time.
“You are going to break your fan this time.” Zulmira warned Carmen.
“Yeah, and then you won’t be able to do your ‘Show da Paraguaya’. Pequena reminded Carmen.
“This heat is unbearable; I can’t wait to go back to Paraguay” Carmen complained, waving the fan faster.
“Seu Mineiro is going to be here soon with a fruit salad. Once you have it, you feel better.” Branquinha reminded her. Everyone knew Carmen had a soft spot for Seu Mineiro.
“Did you know that before Seu Mineiro turns the corner up the road he combs his hair and sprays his mouth with mouthwash?” Pequena said.
Branquinha and Zulmira laughed.
“That is because he likes Carmen.”
“Why does he never come for you in the nights?” Zulmira asked Carmen.
Carmen stood up and went to sit on the banister “He is a believer and believers are not allowed to do it outside of the marriage.” Carmen told them.
“There he is!” Pequena shouted.
“Shush.” Branquinha hushed Pequena, “We don’t want him to know we have been talking about him, do we?”
“Fruit salad, very cold fruit salad!” Seu Mineiro shouted parking his cart on the side of the street and was immediately surrounded by the lots of people wanting his popular fruit salad. Once the crowd disappeared he moved to the shady spot near Carmen.
“Seu Mineiro, it is my birthday tomorrow. Do I get a free fruit sa…?”
“Pequena!” Zulmira interrupted. “How many times do I have to tell you that it is rude to ask for presents?
“Your birthday? That is good.” Neither Pequena or Seu Mineiro paid attention to Zulmira. “We are having a party then?”
“Branca said I can’t have a party.” Answered a disappointed Pequena.
Seu Mineiro poured a ladle of small bits of papaya, banana, apples and melon in to a paper cup filling half of it. “Why not? It is your birthday!” He said, filling the rest of the cup with blackberry milk, offering the first cup to Carmen.
“She doesn’t want people to know my age.” Pequena kept her eyes to the ground.
“Only because Inspector Armando told her that if you want to stay here, you have to keep quiet.” Zulmira explained.
“I don’t mind not having a party! Zulmira said she is going to make me a cake! A chocolate one.”
“A chocolate cake?” Seu Mineiro looked at Zulmira, surprised. “Can you make chocolate cake, Zulmira?” He closed the lid of his trolley and leaned against the porch.
“Zulmira can make all types of cake Seu Mineiro. She can even make icing for it!”
The following morning, Branquinha, Carmen and Pequena sat on the porch waiting for Seu Mineiro.
“Maybe he sold out and he is not coming down here today” Pequena didn’t like waiting. “What if he hasn’t got any apples”.
“Don’t be silly Pequena. Seu Mineiro would never sell out before coming to see Carmen. He will have your apple. The only place he goes before coming here is to the Hotel das Aguias where he unloads most of his stock. He is just late.”
“I hope his wheelbarrow hasn’t lost its front wheel again.” Carmen sounded worried. “Last time it happened, he was stuck with his fruit and veggies and the wheelbarrow in the street.”
“There he is! There he is!” Pequena ran up the road to meet Seu Mineiro. “Seu Mineiro, Seu Mineiro, have you got any apples left?” They hear her calling.
“Ah Pequena, no apples today. The plane didn’t bring any.’ Seu Mineiro stopped the wheelbarrow outside the verandah.
“No apples today?” Pequena repeated his sentence.
‘Instead,” Seu Mineiro wiped his forehead with a white handkerchief, “They sent me a weird fruit, let me see if I can find it.” His hands reached the carried bag hanging on the handle of the wheelbarrow.
Pequena’s face lit up. “What have you got in that bag, Seu Mineiro!”
Seu Mineiro looked at Pequena, his hands holding something, hiding it from Pequena. “Happy birthday Pequena”
“A pear!” Pequena screamed. “A pear, my very favourite fruit!”
Carmen smiled.
“Zulmira, Zulmira, look what Seu Mineiro brought to me!” Pequena was too busy running to the kitchen to thank Seu Mineiro.
Showing posts with label branquinha. Show all posts
Showing posts with label branquinha. Show all posts
Wednesday, 14 April 2010
Thursday, 10 January 2008
Branquinha
By R Vidovix
When the brothel’s owner, Branca, called the new girl Branquinha*[1] , everyone realised that she was Branca’s protégé and no one should mess with her.
That was not a problem though because she was petite and her big brown eyes had nothing but innocence in them and her quiet and modest manners, a very uncommon quality amongst prostitutes, was welcome by most people.
It was also her first time ever as a ‘proper girl’. She had never been to a brothel before. In the past, her lovers had given her enough money to help her out but she had never actually lived in the brothel. When she decided to follow that way of life, she caught the coach and travelled as far as it would go and at the end of the road she found herself in a place where most people had never heard of.
Murilo, the gay bartender and manager, immediately realised Branquinha’s potential: although she was naïve, she was also young; had clear, white and delicate skin; long black hair and straight white teeth. Somehow, she looked out of place amongst the other women who were a lot more experienced and time had taken its toll on their faces and their bodies had been abused by years of alcohol, late nights and all sorts of mistreatment by the men who came to ‘make love’ with them. He knew she would be good for business.
Murilo, in his outrageously camp voice, explained to Branquinha how it all worked: the man paid for the ‘key’, which allowed him the use of Branquinha’s room for 30 minutes. That money was paid in advance directly to the House.
‘If the guy doesn’t have enough time to finish what he came here for, tell him to come back again tomorrow.’ Murilo advised Branquinha. ‘Any money he gives you is yours to keep and you must always ask for the money in advance unless they are regular clients.’
There was a lot to learn about drinks. If one of Branquinha’s clients – she didn’t have any yet but she should expect many – ordered a bottle, she would get 10% commission. She would also get 50% commission on cocktails but none on beer or cachaça*[2].
“I make the cocktails, so yours will have no alcohol. Branca does not like the girls drinking too much spirits. Drunken girls are bad for business.” Branquinha would get no commission on beer
He showed Branquinha the two bathrooms. “Every time you are done you have a shower. Branca doesn’t like dirty girls. If you kiss a client in the mouth make sure you brush your teeth quickly or you might get hepatitis.’
As they passed the kitchen they couldn’t get in because Zulmira, the cook, had not arrived yet. Through the crisscross partition they looked in the kitchen.
‘She must be a good cook.’ The kitchen reminded her of her mother’s kitchen where everything was very clean and neat.
‘She makes the best fish casserole in the whole of Peixoto de Azevedo. She can even make lasagne and in your birthday, she will bake you a cake.’
‘Lunch is at 12 and dinner is at 6. Eat fast because we open at 6:30 and although most punters will only arrive after 8, you can pick up extra business if you are there early.’
Branquinha spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning her new bedroom and making the bed with the sheets that Murilo had lent her. ‘You can borrow these until you have enough money to buy your own.’
On Branquinha’s first night, Branca sent a message to a rich local merchant telling him that there was a new virgin girl in her place. Just before the rich merchant arrived, Branca gave Branquinha a solution to put in between her legs ‘to make it tight’, she explained.
When the merchant arrive, a fat and ugly man with a moustache that covered most of his mouth and face, Branca took him to the Red Room – a room where the ugly wooden walls were covered by red satin fabric and the bed had red fresh linen. The large rug, although old, covered the gaps on the wooden floor stopping the smell and the cold coming from the water below the building. The Red Room had an en-suite and Branca took great pride on it, as it was the only brothel’s room, in the whole of the Peixoto de Azevedo, which had such a luxury.
The merchant took his clothes off and Branquinha had to cover her mouth to hide her shock: he had a stomach that was bigger than the biggest watermelon she had ever seen. She hoped he would not crush her under his weight. As he fumbled her small breasts wanting to kiss her mouth, she could smell the garlic and onion he’d had in his dinner.
‘I don’t kiss in the mouth!’ She remembered what Murilo had said about not kissing customers in the mouth.
He was very excited, after all a virgin was not something he had everyday, and four minutes later, once he was finished, he got up, put his trousers back on and handed her a wad of notes.
As the merchant walked away, with a self satisfied grin in his lips, Branquinha went to shower. She washed and washed and if it wasn’t for Pequena knocking on the door hurrying her, she would have stayed there for a long time, for no water would ever be enough to wash away the dirt she felt she had inside.
Word count: 861
[1] Little Branca
[2] Strong Brazilian rum
When the brothel’s owner, Branca, called the new girl Branquinha*[1] , everyone realised that she was Branca’s protégé and no one should mess with her.
That was not a problem though because she was petite and her big brown eyes had nothing but innocence in them and her quiet and modest manners, a very uncommon quality amongst prostitutes, was welcome by most people.
It was also her first time ever as a ‘proper girl’. She had never been to a brothel before. In the past, her lovers had given her enough money to help her out but she had never actually lived in the brothel. When she decided to follow that way of life, she caught the coach and travelled as far as it would go and at the end of the road she found herself in a place where most people had never heard of.
Murilo, the gay bartender and manager, immediately realised Branquinha’s potential: although she was naïve, she was also young; had clear, white and delicate skin; long black hair and straight white teeth. Somehow, she looked out of place amongst the other women who were a lot more experienced and time had taken its toll on their faces and their bodies had been abused by years of alcohol, late nights and all sorts of mistreatment by the men who came to ‘make love’ with them. He knew she would be good for business.
Murilo, in his outrageously camp voice, explained to Branquinha how it all worked: the man paid for the ‘key’, which allowed him the use of Branquinha’s room for 30 minutes. That money was paid in advance directly to the House.
‘If the guy doesn’t have enough time to finish what he came here for, tell him to come back again tomorrow.’ Murilo advised Branquinha. ‘Any money he gives you is yours to keep and you must always ask for the money in advance unless they are regular clients.’
There was a lot to learn about drinks. If one of Branquinha’s clients – she didn’t have any yet but she should expect many – ordered a bottle, she would get 10% commission. She would also get 50% commission on cocktails but none on beer or cachaça*[2].
“I make the cocktails, so yours will have no alcohol. Branca does not like the girls drinking too much spirits. Drunken girls are bad for business.” Branquinha would get no commission on beer
He showed Branquinha the two bathrooms. “Every time you are done you have a shower. Branca doesn’t like dirty girls. If you kiss a client in the mouth make sure you brush your teeth quickly or you might get hepatitis.’
As they passed the kitchen they couldn’t get in because Zulmira, the cook, had not arrived yet. Through the crisscross partition they looked in the kitchen.
‘She must be a good cook.’ The kitchen reminded her of her mother’s kitchen where everything was very clean and neat.
‘She makes the best fish casserole in the whole of Peixoto de Azevedo. She can even make lasagne and in your birthday, she will bake you a cake.’
‘Lunch is at 12 and dinner is at 6. Eat fast because we open at 6:30 and although most punters will only arrive after 8, you can pick up extra business if you are there early.’
Branquinha spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning her new bedroom and making the bed with the sheets that Murilo had lent her. ‘You can borrow these until you have enough money to buy your own.’
On Branquinha’s first night, Branca sent a message to a rich local merchant telling him that there was a new virgin girl in her place. Just before the rich merchant arrived, Branca gave Branquinha a solution to put in between her legs ‘to make it tight’, she explained.
When the merchant arrive, a fat and ugly man with a moustache that covered most of his mouth and face, Branca took him to the Red Room – a room where the ugly wooden walls were covered by red satin fabric and the bed had red fresh linen. The large rug, although old, covered the gaps on the wooden floor stopping the smell and the cold coming from the water below the building. The Red Room had an en-suite and Branca took great pride on it, as it was the only brothel’s room, in the whole of the Peixoto de Azevedo, which had such a luxury.
The merchant took his clothes off and Branquinha had to cover her mouth to hide her shock: he had a stomach that was bigger than the biggest watermelon she had ever seen. She hoped he would not crush her under his weight. As he fumbled her small breasts wanting to kiss her mouth, she could smell the garlic and onion he’d had in his dinner.
‘I don’t kiss in the mouth!’ She remembered what Murilo had said about not kissing customers in the mouth.
He was very excited, after all a virgin was not something he had everyday, and four minutes later, once he was finished, he got up, put his trousers back on and handed her a wad of notes.
As the merchant walked away, with a self satisfied grin in his lips, Branquinha went to shower. She washed and washed and if it wasn’t for Pequena knocking on the door hurrying her, she would have stayed there for a long time, for no water would ever be enough to wash away the dirt she felt she had inside.
Word count: 861
[1] Little Branca
[2] Strong Brazilian rum
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