White Squad

Conrado says goodbye to him with a light hug, asking for a little more patience. The old man looks disappointed. Conrado puts Haroldo's file under a pile of paper and consults the secretary about the next patient. His last generation cell phone rings. The man identifies himself as police officer Martins and asks for a patient's medical record. Conrado claims that he has already provided the death certificate, but he counters that the document is vague and contains only the main factor: vital organs failure due to hospital infection. Conrado insists that the medical record would be of no value to the police, just technical information.

– But I need the details of her death, even if it is just an embellishment for journalists.

The doctor ensures he will provide the papers by the end of the week.

Satisfied, Martins, gets up from his desk, evaluating his reflection in the police station´s mirrored glass. A man of average height, white and with a spiked haircut, he looks cool today . He goes around the room, tuning his charm, aiming at the boss's secretary at the end of the corridor. He leans over her table and looks down at the mulatto woman´s cleavage, under her long braided hair. His eyes are of a bright blue color so attractive she could not escape his sight.

– Two hours in the saloon, but it's worth it," the 20-something mulatto woman insinuates. She emits body waves in skinny jeans and a combined turquoise top. Martins puts his hand on the braids and slides towards her breasts. Suzi stops him by reminding him about her boyfriend, "a sturdy wall".

– I know, the boss! – completes Martins and the secretary boasts about it. – Suzi, you're lucky the boss's wife has no idea.

People are approaching and Martins controls himself. Justifies himself with a message to his chief about the medical record request. He looks at the bottom of his colleague's knitted top and leaves, realizing that he has again lost the chance to get the boss's girl to bed.

In the Hospital surgical center, the surgeon finishes the procedures at the boy, who presents a strong hemorrhage in his chest region. He removes the bullet and deposits it on a metal tray. Julio has his moment and analyzes the bullet's curve trajectory, sliding over the utensil, making an irritating noise. The experienced doctor, in his forty-five years, has a curriculum considered normal in the balance of losses and gains. He has worked in the hospital's emergency department for five years and knows how things go. He gets out of surgery, takes off his gloves and washes his hands, watched anxiously by the young woman with braces on her teeth, unsuccessfully wiping out her tears outside the watch-window: Margo, leaning against the room door, approaches him.

– He's young and will survive. The bullet was successfully removed and the bleeding stopped. Everything went well – the doctor tries to comfort her.

– Save my boyfriend, he's an angel.

– Calm down, the first 24 hours are the most critical. After this phase, the organism will start reacting with its own defenses against the infection. He will be able to recover.

– But what do I say to Flavinho's family? His mother is desperate, she is old and has a heart problem. You know? It was our dating anniversary, one year. We were going to Leblon beach to celebrate. I asked to leave work early, if only I knew it was going to happen on the bus ...

– Young lady, think that everything will be all right. Have you eaten today? There's a cafeteria down here that sells some healthy sandwiches. Have one and go home. Write down the hospital phone and call me tomorrow morning, I'll be on call.

– I will only leave with him or with some good news.

– So, at least eat something, I don't want another patient here – he jokes, affectionately.

Two policemen stick their feet in the shack door and find Gil shot down in the abdomen. A policeman checks his pulse and realizes he is still alive, but is questioned by the colleague, interrupting the rescue.

-He´s alive. The thug still breathes.

– Let's see if he spits all out before he dies – shaking the wounded man. – You are the one called PP, Paulo Peão, isn't that right, buddy?

Gil makes the sign of the cross, swearing that it is not true. .

– Of course you are. This guy looks just like the PP´s photo – comparing with the picture– Look here.

His partner refrains.

– Shot in the abdomen. I will request the rescue vehicle – he tells his partner.

The bad cop sticks the barrel of the pistol in Gil's abdomen wound, while he´s dying on the floor.

– Will you talk or will I have to put another bullet in your “horns”, huh?

Gil just makes a painful sound.

– PP, where's the powder? Where the fuck did you hide the drug? Tell me right now or I´m going to kill you!

Blood drips onto the pale t-shirt and spills on the clay floor.

– Are you going to talk or would you prefer to take it in the pipe? – announces, turning the wounded body until the barrel of the gun touches his ass. – Aren't you going to spill? Ah, it's because you like it. Gildinha here is good, she is hot ... She gives it to you like no one! She´s tough and sure of it. Do you want to see?" Come and see how sweet she is too ... – he threatens, passing the gun on him from front to back.

His colleague catches the scene.

– Stop it, the guy is already dying! Are you gonna end his life here, with everyone watching?

– Positive. This one has a certain destination already . He looked for it, found it, "bro". He's fucked up now.

The ambulance arrival is a lifesaver and the policeman retreat, leaving the rescuers in action. The angry cop begs for death in the first bar on the way home.

The following day's newspapers feature the headlines: Drug War leaves a man seriously injured. The criminal, known for committing crimes for pure dilettantism, is in a coma at hospital.

– Dilettantism? The guy just ‘ finished’ people that messed with whom he liked, that was it. – was the general comment in the nicest bar in the favela, with a jukebox, karaoke, DVD, internet and, of course, stupidly cold beer, even some imported.

– Don't you understand that these newspaper guys like to embellish their articles?– says Deise, a black woman with full breasts, large ass and brightly black eyes.

– Speak up, Deise! – The woman able of creating light in the plain dark of her eyes – the bar owner flirts with the manicure.

– Stop it, Maneco. You are married and I know you can´t play because your wife keeps you on a very short leash!

– But what about Gil, will he make it? – asks one of the regulars at the bar.

– From what I recently saw on the internet, his chances are 10%. This will yield news in the papers, because that is what people like. – he comments.

– It´s also possible that 'the pigs will finish him' at the hospital.

– This is already just like the movies. It is easier for him to die in such a hospital bed, the kind we all will end in because we have no money, than to become a movie star.

– This Deise leaves nothing behind, a practical woman, ready for anything and with all the answers on the tip of her tongue– he blinks, flirting like crazy. – Deise, tell me something, when are you going to go out and about with me? You know, I've been waiting for this chance since I met you ...

A mulatto woman with a red leather handbag storms into the bar. Rosa complains, annoyed for not finding her car keys where they should be: on the clavicular! She translates: on the key holder. Maneco, who has been at work since six in the morning, asks for some patience.

– No excuses. I have a schedule, I'm a very busy woman. It is not because I am of black descent and I live in a community that I do not have my rights. Where are the keys?

Rosa checks out the traffic through the view she has from the top of the buildings and decides on a taxi. She comes out in short steps, showing her thin and muscular legs under close eyes, especially her No. 1 fan, her husband´s, and No. 2, her manicure´s.

– That is what it means, to be in true possession of your rights. That's right – Deise quips, glimpsing at the elegance of the sweet mulatto woman.

At the hospital, Roberta, leaning over a steel counter, hastily signs up the transfer papers for her husband. Her tracing is precise and culminates with a brush paint stroke at the name end. An official observes if the all the items have been filled in, while she is feeling proud about her daughter's profession as a journalist, for, without Tatiana, she would not have been able to get this release.

– The healthcare plan did not want to pay for the helicopter, but she is a journalist and has influence.

– Or at least they think I do. – corrects the journalist.

– That´s okay, the important thing is that we can now take your father to Rio. There, he will get better care and has more options – she emphasizes, going against a local employee.

– Madam, I'm sorry, but our hospital has all the conditions. What happens is that our equipment is not as complete as the ones the ICUs in Rio have.

– Yes, I understand, in fact, it reassures me I´m doing the right thing in taking João Henrique to Rio. We are at home there and have well-known doctors.

– I'm sorry, ma'am, but the doctors in Teresópolis are very good and recognized by the population for an efficient service, comparable to those in Rio de Janeiro.

The helicopter lands in a cloud of dust in the center of the hospital's courtyard lawn. Lying on a transport stretcher, João Henrique is accompanied by two nurses and a rescue worker.

The aircraft flies over the Serra dos Órgãos mountains, an infinitely deep blue-green. A dense fog disappears with the device, over just the typical sound of a bee sandwiched on the glass, turning the path between life and death – black and white, fear and sigh, lightning and surface – to be infinitely cruel to Roberta and Tatiana from now on. And who said life would not be predestined to be hung by a thread?

II

Tatiana drives back to Rio without delaying her eyes´ curtain over the landscape that tries to hide her anguish. The moment is exclusive and it settles like a cone protecting the dialogue between mother and daughter. They go down the mountain and take the time to disarm themselves, at this right moment, to cry and vent. Roberta has maintained an almost morbid silence for a long time.

– First they said João had a fractured rib, which would heal on his own, and yesterday the doctor reported that the tests showed a lung perforation. I can't take it!

– Easy now. Dad has always been healthy, he never smoked, he played sports. I assume that the lung problem can be overcome with antibiotics.

– That's if he doesn't get pneumonia. Would the solution come only by a miracle? I am tired of this brainwashing based liturgy, the collective that does not respect the individual being, an atheist!

– Mother, I believe there is a Force, something like that, that moves the other forces that we are.

– The Force, the Energy, the Good, the Bad, what is the reason for this certainty that things are governed in this way? I've been at my limit since I saw your father like that. He does not deserve it, he has always been a person filled with the best possible intentions, one of the most humanitarian people I have ever seen, but the faithful, “fearful of God”, do not think like this. All the good that happens to them is due to Him and not to their ability to work, to have struggled to raise a daughter and make her finish university with his daily life sweat. University books? Expensive, Roland Barthes, the English and French dictionaries, computer classes, TV direction and film script courses.

– I know what you did for me. You even left the Fine Arts course to continue working in the store.

– It was a more than just cause, but when your father leaves the hospital I will review this part of my life. All that that is happening is a shock that I have to overcome, but he is alive and survived a direct collision, on foot, with a car. This is luck.

– I went to the police station and did some research if there was an accident that day, something that had the characteristics of the pick-up truck that crossed the road and ran over Dad, but there was no similar occurrence. What weighs in all this is disinformation. In the countryside, everything is so slow and backwards that I don't think I'll ever discover anything. And whoever ran dad over never stopped to help. It's unacceptable what people do for fear of getting involved, and this guy had to go to jail for it. We have to find out who is responsible, it is not possible that nobody saw anything, there were houses close to the highway, some witnesses are probably ...

– Leave your journalist instinct for the moment, because finding out who hit him won't help, I´m sorry.

– Love Instinct, daughter's love, and Justice. I am very close to Dad and besides, you know that I cannot turn a blind eye to events.

– And I can't think of anything except his image, full of probes and devices, poor thing. Immobilized, sedated, full of pumps. I wanted to talk to him so badly so he wouldn't feel alone.

Roberta pours into tears. Tati stops the vehicle on the shoulder and hugs her. The two mix their tears for a few minutes.

– You should stop being the world´s mother. Dad is strong and I am fully independent. Think about yourself now, about traveling more, seeing the works of art you like in loco, getting out of the routine. But, by plane, please. What I am trying to tell you is that it is enough sacrifice already. It's time to look inside you, resume painting, take care of the wounds you treated with patched cloths. Trust the doctors, they have sworn an oath and have a responsibility to life, at least to the people who give their lives to them.

Roberta smiles for the first time. Tati rejoices, because she always felt guilty: how many times she got home late at night after college and when she put her key in the door she heard her voice, warning about the food in the oven: roasted meat with vegetables, together with a recommendation. "Do not forget the salad because vegetables are essential for those who study a lot, it helps memory". The journalist was always amused, from the top of her heels and also a few beers, either from the mention of studying or the difficulty degree found in journalism universities in Brazil.

In a hotel room in Chartreuse, snow begins to foam on the window, confusing day with night. The snow lightening the night and the popping of ice on the glass resemble the sensation from those children´s snow globes, when we shook them and it happened to snow on Santa's sleigh.

A child's dream in Brazil has always been about snow. But the doctor never shied away from dreaming and very high. For her, "the day" would come, even when the feeling of an annihilated dream overrode the routine in hospitals. The change was happening precisely due to the losses.

At first, when a patient died on hospital shifts, she weakened inside. It was the rule, for a new and recently graduated doctor, to hear "one day you will get used to it". It has become almost a joint statement. And it is true, because she learned to work with layers in her mind, a pleasant replacement. She replaced the nightmare with the magical drink at night. A maximum of two glasses of wine, liqueur and, occasionally, a 12 year old scotch to celebrate. On call, “that was my ordeal”, she told her closest friends, in fact, lovers. Here is the second layer. There was no heterosexual friend she hadn't slept with. It was like it had become an obligation. No Sadomasochist, just a woman who turned sex into a common sport, "cheap", as she said. Afterwards, she chose to pay for professionals, precisely for “an unquestionable advantage. They are discreet, do not listen and only say what I want. I conclude that I do well ”– she thinks, while enjoying herself in the hotel room with Cadú.

They play their favorite game: treasure hunt: a hundred dollar bill anywhere in the room, always well hidden in a dark place. Cadú begins his investigation in the shoe rack, full of twenty high-priced pairs of Italian suede. They all have the same model, an expensive whim that he has been feeding lately, thanks to the generosity of others, namely Lyanne. By the way, the redhead does have fun ...]

– Come here and see if you can find the little treasure right here. Do you know where it is? Come fishing – points under the sheet.

– You will not regret it!

– Only if you're fishing with your tongue ... – she suggests, maliciously.

– That's how you want it, Lyanninha, hoisting the treasure from deep inside, isn't it?

Cadú dives in her legs. Every great pleasure has an end and a reward. The doctor is reluctant against instant pleasures, but after it happens, it is final. A long orgasm and she reveals the hundred dollar bill in her hand. He's worthy. Voilá.

The medical team is unanimous about the serious state of the shooting victim who just arrived at the hospital's emergency. Conrado makes his considerations while examining the extent of the wound in Gil's abdomen cavity. The nurse indicates there is a vacancy at the ICU.

The rescue helicopter lands on top of the building. The assistants transport the stretcher with João Henrique to the interior of the hospital, towards the ICU.

The last spot is occupied by the shot man. Gil is being prepared to receive the monitoring devices. The stretcher with João Henrique arrives at the door, but is stopped by the head nurse, warning that there is no availability. Confusion arises with the approach of a group of assistants to watch the scene – or rather – learn which decision will be made. The doctor on call is the one who will ultimately resolve it.

Conrado is called to the intercom and appears in a few moments sporting his usual air of absolute tranquility. Lucia asks for his attention.

– It's an embarrassing situation, doctor. The ICU is already full with twenty-six patients.

– You have to wait or transfer the last patient. What is the doubt?

– It seems the administration does not recommend it.

– How so? Order of arrival, this is the rule.

– The one who arrived first is shot.

The nurse informs about the reason for such recommendation: the Health Plan status. Conrado understands the situation: a question of values, the Health Plan is superior.

– And what is the second patient´s state?

– Rib fracture and lung perforation.

– Let me see both files. João Henrique Nogueira, 60, stable. Transferred from Teresópolis. The other one...

Conrado receives the message with the recommendation in favor to the hit and run patient. The doctor communicates the decision to remove the shot man from the ICU and "place the insured one, that is, the 60-year-old patient. Matter of age ”.

Gil is abandoned in the corridor and the nurses transfer the tube and artificial respirator to the new patient. João Henrique receives first care at the ICU. Fate hangs on the balance: who will survive?

The question´s echo does not survive in Conrado´s mind, watching a TV shopping channel in the call room.

Conrado has adapted. Back int he day, he was an idealist in his profession. The son of dedicated doctor Miguel Conrado Connor operated on insects as a child. He started by capturing beetles on his father's farm. Conradinho amputated the beetles' legs and recovered them with improvised prostheses made from matchstick barbs. Miguel always guided him on Medicine, he used to say that Medicine was not limited to a promising profession, but to humanitarian work. As a matter of fact, he wanted to be a veterinarian. “One day I will save all the animals”, he dreamed. At the age of eight, he already had skills. He took care of Mimi, a gecko with a cut tail. Conradinho had fixed it with a band-aid using eyebrow tweezers. The patient was kept in a soluble coffee glass with a roof adapted from a perforated red plastic lid, in order to provide ventilation. Conradinho visited her every morning in a sacred ritual. He picked up the house inside his church shoes box in the closet, and, when Mimi reacted, it was a relief. “How cute, she's dancing, she's happy!”, He vibrated. Feeding was solved thanks to the food he kept in a matchbox containing live insects. One day, Mimi was not interested. He found her dry with her belly up, she was his first patient to die. He vowed never to treat animals again. He isolated himself inside the closet and his parents never knew what happened, much less that their son was sensitive.

Well, nowadays, death still lingers in the doctor's mind, however in an uncompromising way. General practitioner, Conrado specialized in oncology by his own choice. Some of the old people who attend his private practice three times a week are already gone. Conrado always advises his patients that "cancer is not only physical, it is the pain of the soul, sadness, anguish and loneliness".

– But who doesn't have these problems? – questioned his mother, whom even he couldn't save.

That day, back in the 90s, in a hospital bed, he noticed death showing his compassionate face. He never forgot the expression in his mother's eyes, asleep on the horizon, and how they seemed inert and opaque, so far away. Darkness took over his heart for many years, without medicine, without a cure, without the soul he once sought in his actions.

“Now it's boredom: fame and money. Every kind of rite of passage results in a change in behavior and that's the way it is, it settles, Conrado ”, he repeats to himself until the nurse enters with a new emergency.

Wagner looks 40-something years old thanks to his long hair with almost no gray, in a pure rock singer biotype. Nervous, he has an eyebrow twitch as if transmitting in a special Morse Code.

– The pain is here, in the chest, a sharp pain. I was playing soccer with friends and felt my heart.

– Do you smoke? Do you use any medication?

– No, just pot.. and lightly ...

– Wagner, let's do this – the nurses laugh in secrecy, but the doctor remains discreet. – We will apply a medication to normalize your heartbeat. Initially, it seems like an extra systole, but I need to confront the exams first.

– No problem, Doctor Conrado, I can take a leave for a few days. I'm a musician. I don't have a wife or children, I'm a loose animal in life.

Conrado decides to proceed to a complete check-up and leaves the room avoiding an “immature” explanation as a response. On the way to his office, he is commonly checked out by the infirmary girls, including Carminha, responsible for his nickname, "Doc Cock", Conrado checks them out discretely, but she continues to look at him as a divine delicacy. The doctor responds the gesture by stroking his red Lamy in his lab coat pocket as a sign of his potency, leaving a trail of testosterone. The rumors that he likes all kinds of sex genders, numbers and degrees, make the subject much more interesting for Carminha.

– Everything that is consented between sexual partners is ok – Carminha states. – Girls, this has become a thing of the past: sex for three, group, tribal. Have you read Erica Jong in your life? I bet you never read anything but self-help books. A woman who doesn’t act on her sex fantasies is problematic, see? And that does nothing but get her fat!

Carminha is never limited in this regard, her famous stories are told at times, when the emergency room is not very busy. Speaking of which, lately she has been dwelling on the development of her pure pleasure theory. The nurse uses a refined technique and introduces the secrets of pompoirism to colleagues hidden behind the counter.

– Gently place one at a time. It is necessary to learn to control yourself completely and introduce the balls little by little. When you feel that you are already full, expel one by one. The feeling inside is like being particularly lubricated. As the air bubbles come out, a small vacuum occurs inside the vagina. At each round, the feeling gets greater and longer, better even than coming through traditional ways.