Read Here First
This is my first story - it's ultimately a test of my writing. This is only a 'short' - no chapters. It's taken from the story-line of Rio. Hope you enjoy and hope it keeps your interest. Constructive criticism is welcomed.
I do not, in any way, monetarily profit from the story and that all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).
"No Obrigado"
The sun was now gone from the horizon as Fernando traced his way down the favela's messy street. Large produce vehicles and street cars were parked awkwardly and unparalleled to the road. White paper trash and plastic bags fluttered around the stone pavement. It was not yet late enough for the vendors to completely vanish, they were scattered amongst the side of the wiry street and down the even more narrow alleys. Attempting to make eye-contact with him, Fernando would look away and avoid the vendors. They would rush him, as they did everyone else, in a feverish effort to sell their knick-knacks and mamão fruits before closing for the night.
"No, obrigado, no."
"No, no, you must tr…"
"No, obrigado.." Fernando would press on, pass these inconveniences.
He was set on his task for the night – his head floating with the image of that gratifying paycheck. For an orphaned boy in a Favela, specifically, Rocinha, a few Reals can make a world of a difference. Fernando was currently working a job for a man named Marcel. He sported thin sunglasses over his eyes and carried a trimmed goatee, his hair was short but dreadlocked and he wore an unmistakable Brazilian tropic shirt. The man had a deep, drawn out voice and looked uncomfortably shady; but Fernando was familiar with many of these characters. Marcel had delivered the boy with orders to break into the local avian sanctuary and seize two blue macaws somewhere inside. Marcel had his own bird, Nigel, purposely 'saved' by the sanctuary in order to give Fernando a means for entering the building. He didn't understand how a bird would grant him access to the sanctuary. He pondered the intelligence of such a bird while approaching the sanctuary's grand gates flanked by two large palm trees. His heart repeatedly thumped quicker and quicker as he stealthy moved in closer along the faded-red stoned driveway. He was apprehensive and scared, as always before a job that wasn't necessarily legal. Fernando grew up without any moral guidance, with the exception of the favela itself that acted as his mentor. Like all children growing up in a favela, he matured quickly for his age, with only an understanding of survival through legal or illegal means, if required. Still, Fernando had a strong sense of character and compassion as well as a longing to belong to a family, all despite growing up on the street.
Fernando reached the door to the Sanctuary without a soul in sight. He motioned his hand forward for the door-handle, gripping it, and turning. There was no other option in his present state for gaining entrance to the sanctuary besides attempting to open the door; it appeared to him as the simplest idea at the time. To Fernando's shock and surprise the door hinged forward and swiped the floor as it expanded into the foyer of the room. He walked in without any sight of Marcel's cockatoo, Nigel. Sneaking forward, he advanced into a room filled with objects and tools you would see in a doctor's office but it was obviously designed in mind for birds. Small beds in plastic bins and large bird-friendly cages covered the tables. The room was decorated with a white trim and furbished with fine-looking plants, by far the nicest building he had ever walked through. He wandered in the dark, searching for the blue-colored macaw's until he fell upon a large unconscious body dressed in clothes usually seen during the Carnival parades. Curious as to why and how this man came to lay here in front of him, Fernando decided to step over the large man in sparkling gold spandex, figuring that if he wishes to complete his task unnoticed, it is better the strange man lay asleep. After exploring a few rooms toward the back of the sanctuary that were covered with computers and small TV screens, Fernando found a large metallic door with a slid-sealing lock. He unlatched the lock and pushed the substantially heavy door open, shedding a quantity of light into the now revealed room. It was as if someone had cut a piece of the rainforest from the Earth and placed it into this large room – plants, trees, and small streams covered the surface, it was a temperate climate in the room. Fernando began to wonder for a moment if he had actually stepped outside, into the backyard of the sanctuary, until suddenly a racing blue bird, aimed directly at the heavy opened door at Fernando's side, flew into the opening.
He wasted no time, lifting the burlap sack he was carrying over his shoulder straight into the path of the speeding blue bird. The macaw crashed into the sack with a single squawk. Fernando jetted forward into the pseudo-jungle in search for the second bird. To his marvel, the bird stood at the floor of the jungle-room peering up at Fernando with large welcoming eyes. The bird made one friendly squawk before the bag was tossed over the bird's head and scooped up. He made a 180 degree about-face and sprinted out of the jungle-room and into the beautiful white room snatching a small, grey cage sitting on a wooden shelf, along the way out. The now profoundly squawking birds were making Fernando's heart race with excitement. He hastily stuffed the birds from the sack into the cage and jumbled it around in his hands while attempting to put the sack back over the small metal enclosure. His hands were shaking as he pressed open the door to leave the sanctuary, dashing out to the street nearly losing the footing in his flip-flop. He moved into a corridor on a street and walked slowly to avoid suspicion as well as to calm the desperately excited birds down – their constant squawking would easily attract unwanted attention. Fernando had pulled it off; he walked dignified up the alley way and back to the favela, ready to deliver his catch to Marcel. The Macaws' made a few more squawks before falling oddly and deafly silent. They made two light thuds, one after another, as if they were falling over to play dead. Though he had only seen the two birds clearly for less than a second apiece, he couldn't help but consider his actions, "Those sure were pretty birds; I hope they weren't hurt too badly by my rushing and shoving." Fernando made his way to the door of the house where he was instructed to make the drop. His walk was much less distinguished upon further thought about the two wonderfully painted Macaws,' and even less as he knocked on the wooden door of the slum house. He dreadfully hoped the money would be worth his deed.