The Power of Five Oblivion

doing. Matt had to look subdued, the servant with his owner. He bowed his head. His eyes were filled with tears of pain and there was a fresh bruise on his cheek. Now he looked just like the other boys.
    Lohan led him across to the trader, a small, mean-looking man dressed in an old football shirt with the name FLAMENGO printed in red on his back. He was bald and carried a bullwhip, curled up at his side. As he saw them approaching, his eyes filled with suspicion and Lohan wondered if he had heard of them and knew the trick they were about to play.
    “You’re selling him?” the trader asked, speaking in Portuguese.
    “That’s right.” Lohan spoke the language fluently. He had been taught it when he was at school in Macao.
    “Where did you get him? He’s clearly not your son. Is he American?”
    “I bought him,” Lohan spat. “Now I’ve got no further use for him. So I’m selling him. Do you have a problem with that?”
    Matt knew that Lohan was being aggressive on purpose. He wouldn’t want to spin out long stories or make the trader think he had something to hide. There was a long silence and Matt didn’t dare look up. If he did, Lohan would have to hit him again. But then he felt the trader’s hands on him, pulling up his shirt to examine his torso and chest, feeling the muscles in his arms, and knew that he had been accepted for sale. The trader prised open Matt’s mouth and peered inside, looking for evidence of tooth rot or disease. Finally, he ran a hand through his hair, just as if he were a dog.
    “All right,” he said. “The kid’s in good shape. He can join the others. But I warn you, prices are low today. They’re all being sold in a job lot.”
    “Who is the buyer?”
    “Over there…”
    Lohan glanced at the platform and his heart sank. There was a group of them standing in front of it, dressed in khaki with guns dangling from their shoulders. These weren’t farmers looking for cheap labour or rich men who liked having good-looking boys to clean their houses. They were soldiers and they had done this before, many times. He could tell from the way they stood there, working as a unit, relaxed with each other, uninterested in their surroundings. They were men without feelings and Lohan knew that such men were the most dangerous of all.
    He glanced briefly at Matt, wondering if he should make an excuse and pull them both out before it was too late. Matt had seen the soldiers too. He shook his head very slightly. The message was clear. He wanted to go on.
    Lohan handed the rope across and the trader led Matt up to the platform, where he stood with the other boys. The soldiers barely acknowledged him. They were buying everyone who was there and it didn’t matter to them if he was fat, thin, strong or weak. A job lot. The trader negotiated briefly with one of the soldiers – a bearded man with a broken nose and crumpled cheeks. A deal was made. The two of them shook hands. The soldier reached into his pocket and took out a bundle of banknotes, which he began to count.
    The trader took the money and walked back to Lohan. He handed over five crumpled ten-dollar bills.
    “Fifty dollars?” Lohan was contemptuous. “You’re not being serious. He’s worth five times that.”
    “I warned you that prices were low today. If you’re not happy, you can leave.”
    “OK.” Lohan made a decision. He gave the money back. “You can forget it. I’ll take him with me.” It was already too late.
    Lohan’s attention had been on the trader, on Matt and on the money. He hadn’t noticed the other man who had crept up behind him and only became aware of him as something slammed into his back. He toppled forward onto his knees, already reaching for the gun that was concealed in his waistband. But his attacker was too fast. Before he could produce it, he was hit a second time, this time a leather boot crashing into the side of his head. If Lohan hadn’t reacted instinctively and ridden the blow, it would have cost him a fractured skull. As it was, he was sent flying into the dirt and he could only lie there, dazed and furious, as the gun and everything else he owned was removed.
    “ Olhe para mim, seu porco… ”
    “Look at me, you pig.” The voice was ugly, filled with contempt.
    With the side of his head on fire and blood in his mouth, Lohan rolled over and looked up. The trader was standing over him with a second man. That was when Lohan realized just how much trouble he was in. Short,