Free The Boat by Nam Le Page A

concentrate. In that case, I say, tell Luis I thank him. For organizing the business today.
    She nods.
    He knew that you would want revenge, she says. But he did not want to tell you about Hernando's death, if you were in hiding, and did not already know, and there was no need ...
    She trails off, seeing where that leads. Everyone knew, I think again. But I do not feel bitter at all.
    El Padre knows you are here, I repeat. He wants you to go to our moco and bring back the guns.
    I do not want to look at her crying face. I look into the half dark behind her, make out the contours of a ditch, the banks of rubbish packed hard as rock. I think I see the face of a child appear behind a candle, and then disappear. The sky feels like it is sinking closer and closer to earth.
    My mother, I say.
    Don't worry about that, she says. I will take her away.
    A strange look crosses her face and her narrow shoulders lurch toward me. Her teeth scrape across my lips. I feel embarrassed. I try to kiss her back but I have difficulty controlling my mouth. Her lips are on my ear. She is saying something. She is saying something but I cannot hear her, and when I try to listen I cannot remember what her voice sounds like. I am pulled back into myself.
    She is saying, Take it. She presses it into my hand, guides it into my pocket. It is hard and cold and shaped like an apple. It is one of Pedro's grenades. I do not dare to look down.
    How do you feel? she asks me for the second time tonight. She asks it with a small laugh.
    I do not know what to say. Can I say, My body feels like it is all water? Can I say, Perhaps, perhaps I am glad?
    The revenge killings will not finish for a few weeks, I say.
    She nods again. You are scared.
    Her left hand is still wrapped around mine and it is trembling. This, I think, from Claudia, who has the steadiest hands I know. I look at her and then, in her eyes, I see a window, framed by her mother's body, and I find myself thinking about how easy it seemed for her mother to jump to a death she did not want that badly.
    Yes, I lie to her. Yes, I am scared.
    I look back toward the house and it is clear from Damita's posture that she has finished her cigarette, is bored with the guards, is cold and is waiting for me. The house, with its candlelights, looks somehow sacred under the gray clouds, and the moon, which has come out beneath them, looks like a huge yellow magnet.
    My fingers rub against the cold metal in my pocket. I have to go, I say.
    Claudia embraces me again, her fingertips digging into the gaps between my back ribs. She is breathing shallowly now. Tell him you will never come back. Tell him he can trust you. She says it quietly but there is enormous pressure behind her words.
    Yes, I say. But first you must go get the guns.
    She will not let go of me.
    I hate this place, she says, wiping her eyes on my shoulder. We will leave together. Your mother too.
    My mother, I say.
    I look up at the house, shimmering high on the black hill before us. Claudia clings to me. Her body is warmer than usual. From the gate, Damita looks in our direction and I step back, away from Claudia, seeing her now as though from a growing distance. She is small, and soft, and alone, and I force myself to look away from her.
    You must get the guns, I say.
    He will let you go.
    She has gathered her voice with effort. I smile into the night.
    He will let me go, I say after her.
    At the front door Damita loops her arm around my elbow and leads me inside. This time the guards do not search me. As we walk up the stairs, Damita's hip bumps against mine and her bare stomach shifts and lengthens in the angled light. El Padre is behind the bay windows, standing outside on the balcony. He gestures for me to join him.
    From the balcony, the brightness of the candlelit house makes the hillside seem even blacker. We stand there in silence – El Padre and I, and a guard motionless against the far railing. As my eyes adjust, I can make out hazy lagoons