Pêro fled back to the Mocambo. At the base of the hillside backing the barrio, he stormed up. He quickened his ascent with each step, gasping in the frigid air. At the gravesite of his family, he crumpled upon the earth. Hot tears rushed forth. Why Lord? Why? My family and now Padre Dantas too!
Why Lord? Why?My family and now Padre Dantas too!He pleaded to the winter wind whose only response was a chilling cold breath. He beat his fists on the ground, until the skin tore at his knuckles.
Nothing was the same. He wanted this pain to go away. Instead, it coursed through him, settling deep inside each part of his body, festering there: raw and tender. I no longer sleep through the night, as I anticipate Paulinha’s small frame nestled next to mine. Now there was only the chill of winter. He
