Dance Lest We All Fall Down - Margaret Willson [129]
“What about the demolition?” I asked. “How much do you think that will cost?”
“Well, I’ve got some skilled boys who generally work with me. Unless, Rita, you have someone else in mind. We could have my fellows lead the demolition, working together with local lads. My fellows work hard and they won’t cost much. I, or someone, would just have to be continually on site to instruct them on what to do. My boys are pretty good anyway.”
“What about the rainy season?”
“Well, my boys want work, so they’d begin now. Work until Carnival, then come back right after. They could finish it in about two months. You can’t pour cement in the rain, but you can demolish stuff. My guys are from Salvador. They understand the rain.”
“And the cost?”
“Oh, for demolition. Depends on what you can negotiate, but I’d say about 2,000 reais.”
“So, about 800 dollars.”
Rubim shrugged. “I don’t know about the dollar. But you’d have to be careful with this building. Since you can’t damage the front facade, all the debris, everything, will have to be taken out the front door in sacks. We’re used to that. The street’s too narrow to have a debris container, so we’d have to get a truck come in, probably best at night.” He laughed.
“The neighbors,” Rita said. “I’ll have to talk to them.”
“At night there won’t be much traffic for us to block.”
“So, Rubim,” I said, “we have about 50,000 reais for the rebuilding, including demolition. That’s it. Can we do anything reasonable with that?”
Rubim paused, surveying the building. “Well, sure. If Rita and I go out and buy all the materials ourselves, if we don’t try to hire outsiders, if we work with people we know so we don’t get ripped off. My guys generally work for about 25 reais a day. So, if we did all that, you could do the building for that. It wouldn’t be fancy. We could just leave the walls cement for now and paint them some bright colors. Then we can put on the tile when you get more money. But, yeah, if we’re careful, I think we can give Bahia Street a usable school.”
Rita gave me a huge smile, one in which I saw no triumph or malice. “We’ll do it, Margaret. I’ll get Mario to give me the plans, and then I’ll go to local people I know in the periphery to buy the materials. Maybe I can even get some of them donated. Fio can talk Mario into doing the plans for free.”
“That’s impressive if he can do that,” Rubim said. “Middle-class people never do anything for free.”
Rita nodded. “Mario’s not a bad person. He’s impressed with Bahia Street. And he adores Fio. They’ve known each other for years. He thinks Fio is a brilliant artist.”
We moved to the open space at the back of the building, and Rita sat on a crumbling wall beside me. “Margaret, I’ve given much of the last six years to these girls. Of anyone in the world, you know I will not do anything that could possibly cause them harm. I’ve never had any biological children, but these girls, they’re my children now. I know them. I was incredibly lucky, chance was with me, for me to finish school, go to university. If change is going to happen here in Brazil, if we blacks are ever going to get any power, we have to do it with education, with understanding. With our own building, we will be able to do so much. This project has my heart. If there’s anything we in Bahia understand, it’s how to survive. This project’s the same. While I’m here, it will survive.”
She took my hand. “I’m sorry Margaret, that I seemed cold the other night. It wasn’t intentional. We had prepared this special meal for you. I wanted you to enjoy it. I know you have a huge burden finding the money. We have this money now. If we don’t have any more, we can still do it. Don’t forget, I’m here. I can collect this and that, get favors.” She looked at me. “We’re in this together. Bahia Street has everything I have.”
Rubim’s shadow crossed over our heads as he crunched through the rubble behind the building. “The original cistern’s still here! Where they used to bring the water. It’s in good condition. We can keep that, keep the building’s history.