Even though Vicente is over 70 years old, he belongs without doubt to the best workers of the metal factory in Sao Paolo.
He keeps on saying, that there is still justice in the world. His fate gave him a right to judge, because he has got behind him a bitter deal of a Brazilian slave. No, he is not an exception. There are thousands of blacks in Brazil, who lived under years of slavery. They were not the original inhabitants; they only arrived as
slaves after its discovery by Europeans. We are finishing our modest lunch; twenty minutes are left till the end of the break. I am sitting down next to Vicente and am offering him a packet of “Quarante tres.”
I wanted him to tell me about how was life for him when he was still a worker without remuneration that is life as a slave.
It depends very much on where you lived and whom you worked for. Vicente’s parents were slaves in the house of Don Calle de Herrero. Mr Herrero was very nice and never allowed guards to beat his slaves.
When his daughter, however, married the owner of the neighbouring plantations, she took with her five slave women among them also Vicente’s
sister. Vicente loved Elva very much and asked Mr. Herrero not to send her on the neighbouring plantation. Vicente was then 18 and his sister 15 – but their wishes were not listened to.
Once during “cosecha”, harvest of maze, Vicente was working on the edge of the forest. Suddenly it seemed to him, as if somebody was calling him. He was following the voice and found his sister. She was crouching round a tree as if she was an exhausted rabbit. A whip beat the back of Vicente’s sister. One guard beat her up, because she stepped on his box of matches, which he left on the floor.
That was a very serious offence. Slaves who ran away from their masters were hunted in the same way, as a wild animal would be.
Vicente did not think for one minute. He took Elva by her hand and pulled her into the jungle. They were fleeing as much as their strength allowed them. Several times they could hear in the silence of the jungle voices of their pursuers.
In the afternoon, Vicente’s sister was exhausted. She could not go any further. A river extended in front of them, and alligators rippled what was worse the surface of the river. The barks of the dogs of the punishable expedition were coming to us – there was no time for any longer reflection. Right next to the side of the river stood a tree, from branches of which hung long cords. I choose one strong rope, pulled it to myself and quickly explained to Elva what I intended to do. With her last bit of strength she climbed on the tree, embraced me round my hips, I pushed myself from the trunk of the tree and we hovered thought the air to the other side of the river.
We were spotted in a moment. Shouting and swearing our pursuers were walking undecidedly around the muddy side of the river till one of them started to climb the tree. He wanted to get to the other side of the river in exactly the same way as they did. Vicente took out his knife and held it tight – he was prepared to jump on the man as soon as he would touch their side of the river.
The man got hold of one of the large cords, took off, - but lamented appallingly – the cord broke. The man fell down into the river, he swam. Then water rippled around him and several horrible jaws were snapping at the defenceless prey. Elva, who pressed herself to Vicente, breathed a sigh of relief and said that was he, the guard who beat her up
Vicente became quiet for a moment and was looking somewhere over the roof of the factory…
“Yes, there is justice in this world, Sr.!”