Page 29. “Go home to Barra do Garças. Forget about this unhappy and shocking event.”
[Map from Google Maps showing Barro do Garças at A.]
Page 31. “While the bridegroom’s predicament continued to dominate the lobby, Walter and I left the hotel for one of the ubiquitous neighborhood stands selling cafezinhos [demitasses] for a couple of cents. Each stand had several cushioned bar stools arranged on the sidewalk, their cracked covers usually made of red vinyl. At 2 in the morning, for the brief time the stands were closed, metal gates were padlocked across their open mouths.”
[A botequim in Rio de Janeiro. The establishments with red vinyl bar stools described in the text from 1968 are no longer a fixture of Rio’s streets.]
Page 33. “My new bedroom was windowless. Just below the ceiling, a triple row of glass bricks, a meaningless clerestory of sorts, was set into the wall separating my room from the living room of the two-bedroom apartment. By my pacing, my room was six-and-a-half feet wide and nine feet long. It had no other furniture except a rough wooden shelf attached to the wall above the bed, extending the length of the room and, on the opposite wall, under the clerestory, a large abstract painting in bold colors. I liked the painting. It pumped energy into the windowless space.
“I occupied my narrow room with a jittery unease. The southern two feet of my room served as a foyer connecting the living room with the apartment’s only bathroom. Anyone wanting to use the bathroom in the middle of the night had first to open the door between the living room and the foyer, then step into my room to close the living room door so it wouldn’t block the bathroom door. Likewise, I had to walk through the living room, exposing myself to the couple bedded there on the fold-out couch, to get into or out of my pinched quarters.”
[Layout of David Junior’s apartment.]