Some Thing Called Myself (Complete)

XIV: something bloody (Part II)

Ch. 14: Something Bloody (Part Two)

When Mara was nineteen, she was arrested.

It was 1981, and Carla—the leader of the small student political group Mara was a part of—had decided to join a big protest march with other student groups from the Pontiff Catholic College and other, bigger departments of the University of São Paulo. It was just a routine thing. Just students getting together to paint banners, talk about life under the regime politics, and what freedom really meant—and what it was not. For the past years, Carla and the other leaders were getting better at misleading the Military Police, which meant that the students were a lot safer now...

But that day, something went wrong.

Mara remembered walking under a cracking-hot sun, hand in hand with Amanda, her first girlfriend. Each of them had a small placard condemning the dictatorship and asking for the freedom of the students arrested months ago in the thumping heart of west São Paulo. Mara wore that same old blue jeans Mother had given her for her sixteenth birthday and a worn, white t-shit that read a handwritten "freedom."

"Look how many people are here today!" Lipe shouted, trying to raise his voice over the noise from the crowd.

"Bah, this is huge. There are more people here than in my city's Oktoberfest," Amanda said in a kind voice, her words and accent in a sweet, southern cadence. She nestled close to Mara and smiled her white smile when the latter laced an arm around her shoulders. "Are you excited, Mara?" she asked.

"Of course I am." Mara smiled at her and popped a gentle kiss on her lips. "Thank you for coming with me."

Those words had been directed at both Lipe and Amanda, but it was the first who answered.

"Getting home in one piece is all the thanks I need, man." Lipe massaged his left ear. "When my mom saw the bruises I had after what happened last time, she almost gave me another. Mom says she'll geld me if I continue coming to these."

Mara chuckled. "Well, tell your mom that she can thank you once we kick those fuckers from power. Isn't she a writer or something? She must be tired of writing about the bullshit they allow her to."

Lipe shrugged. "Not every artist can be the son of a general."

She opened her lips to answer, but a loud cry broke the peaceful ambiance around them.

"Smoke bomb!" someone shouted.

With those two little words, their peaceful march changed—and it happened fast.

"Run!"

As the cries and screams started, Mara's eyes widened. The Sé square was a big place, but the crowd was bigger, and the narrow streets around it couldn't take that many students at once. The stomping of the police grew closer by the second, and the students split in two with the snap of a finger. Running to the side streets were those who were too afraid of the conflict. Running towards the armed officers were those who raised their placards higher, shouting like one. Mara took Amanda's hand.

"We gotta get the fuck out of here. C'mon!" Lipe shouted.

He tugged at Mara's arm and, not waiting for an answer, veered to the left in the direction of a narrow alley that would take them to safety. At their right, though, Mara saw Carla's braided hair cutting through the crowd. Instead of running, Carla had just climbed on the roof of a white beetle parked on the corner of the street.

"It's forbidden to forbid!" Carla shouted, raising her placard. "We will not be silenced, will we?" She waited until a large group of people answered loud, echoing nos. "Say no to the dictatorship gag!"