took out the pistol, loaded it, and ran into his shack. A minute later he was back with his rucksack.
He turned to look around him one more time with his big cow eyes and, without saying goodbye, ran off towards the path down the hill. Halfway there he stopped. He turned on the spot and ran back up, stumbling.
Take this, he said, pulling the rifle over his head as he approached. You might need it.
Why would I need it?
That’s how they are, he said. Be careful.
I almost felt alarmed. Seeing him like that, his hair a mess and his jaw clenched, I thought, for a second, about telling him the truth. But José’s little hands flashed through my mind again, waving goodbye, and the moment passed.
Go, I told him, go quickly.
He slipped across the farm towards the path, seemed to change his mind, then made for the edge of the clearing and disappeared into the forest.
I went into the hut and looked at the bed Ermiña had made up, the girls’ mattress leaning against the wooden boards of the wall so she could clean, the whole room dark and neat. I sat down on the edge of the bed, leant back, and seeing the metal roof suddenly heard my girls laughing outside, chasing the dog Baloo around the tanks. But the noise dissolved into the sound of trickling water, and then I felt like I was sinking into the mattress, as though I could fall right through it. I tried to think of something else, to shake off my longing, and remembered Analí’s message. I dug around in my trousers for my phone.
I want to do things to you…
My body responded. I want to do things to you… I read it again, maybe even said it out loud. I imagined her topless, naked, on me, just like I’d imagined her a thousand times. Clutching her own little breasts in her hands, lifting her gaze to the ceiling. I typed the message furiously, barely even looking at the screen.
Her reply arrived within a couple of minutes.
I’ll meet you above the village at six.
I was late going to get her and ran recklessly down the hill, my insides roiling with emotion. I found her by an enormous oak tree, just where the sweetgum plantation begins to turn into forest. At least my silence matched hers this time. We headed up to the farm.
I’m glad you’re alone, she said eventually, when we reached the clearing.
The forest had gone silent, as though the plants, the water, the animals and the birds had all quietened down in their own little corners, attentive to this new presence. Even Baloo had disappeared.
I didn’t reply. Her scent hit me and already that was almost too much. But being like that, on the verge of setting everything alight, lost for words, did me good.
I saw her cast an eye over the farm, curious, and above all satisfied. She went over to one of the tanks
and dipped a finger in the water.
It’s cold, she said, then put her finger in her mouth and sucked it.
That water tastes of fish, I know because I’ve done the same, but with the way she was looking at me it could have been the sacred fountain of our unbridled passion.
And this is your place? she asked, eyeing the hut.
It had started to rain again, and before I could answer she was already stepping lightly towards the door. She opened it and let herself in. I followed her and lit a candle on the night table. Heavy raindrops started to thunder on
the metal roof, gathering strength as Analí explored, walking around the bed to examine the flower design on the quilt, going over to the calendar featuring pictures of Swiss meadows that Don Henrik had put up on the wall, using her toes to toy with the mothballs Ermiña had put down in the corners. Then she turned to me and wrinkled her nose.
It smells… different, here, she said.
I didn’t like the way she said it, but she’d already crouched down to pick up a little rubber ball from under the bed.
Is this your daughter’s? she asked.
I said yes without knowing which one she meant.
She’s so little. I love her smile, she said, and I realised at once that she was talking about José, who’s got these white teeth that light the whole place up when she’s happy.
Analí sat down on the bed and looked up at me, rolling the little rubber ball between her hands.
You remember her then, I said.
I don’t have to remember her, I talk to her every day when she comes out of school.
Right. So – you know each other well then?
She didn’t answer, but neither did she look away. She let go of the little ball, which fell and rolled across the floor, and then she put one hand on her thigh.
But do you talk to her a lot? I pressed.
She tilted her head, made a face, and sighed before answering.
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