smile breaks out on his face.
Alberto stands looking at him. He shakes his head. ‘You’re a liar,’ he says.
Néstor starts to laugh a screeching, spiteful laugh.
‘Take it back,’ says Alberto loudly, but Néstor is still laughing.
I hear footsteps coming towards us, but I can’t break my stare from what’s happening in front of me.
‘Take it back!’ yells Alberto. He runs towards Néstor and throws himself on top of him, punching and kicking him with all the strength he can muster.
At that moment, Mamá appears from the entrance to the house and Alberto’s papá appears at the courtyard’s exit. They arrive in time to see Alberto viciously hitting
Néstor, and they both run over.
‘Alberto!’ shouts Alberto’s papá. He pulls Alberto away, and he clearly can’t quite believe what he just saw. ‘What were you doing?’ he asks crossly.
Then he sees that Alberto has tears running down his face. He can’t look at his papá, staring instead at his boots.
Mamá kneels next to Néstor, fussing over him. She wipes the blood from his face with her handkerchief, asking why Alberto was hitting him. But, for once, my brother remains silent,
his mouth tightly set.
By now, Chita has heard the commotion and runs into the courtyard. Seeing the boys are being attended to, she heads over to me and helps me to my feet.
‘What happened,
chica
?’ she asks, beginning to brush the dust off me. She hasn’t noticed the wine stains. I follow the boys’ lead and do not say anything. I
don’t think I could say it out loud – not when Alberto’s papá is so close.
Alberto’s papá is bending over Alberto with his hands gripping the tops of Alberto’s arms. He’s looking directly into Alberto’s face, but Alberto doesn’t
even glance up.
Then Alberto’s papá turns and walks towards the house. I don’t know what this means. Is he now refusing to talk to Alberto? What’s going to happen next?
He disappears into the dark of the house, but when he returns, he is rolling down his shirtsleeves and putting on his jacket. He carries Alberto’s jacket and hands it to him.
Alberto takes the coat without saying anything. Alberto’s papá turns to Mamá and says, ‘Please accept my apologies for Alberto’s behaviour. He and I are going to
take a little drive to discuss what’s just happened.’
Mamá nods and looks at Alberto. I thought she would be angry with him, but she doesn’t seem to be. Instead, she appears concerned.
With his hands on Alberto’s shoulders, Alberto’s papá leads him past Chita and me. I stare at Alberto’s face, but he doesn’t look up – not even for a
moment.
Their steps become quieter; then I hear the car doors slam and the engine roars to life. I watch as the old black car chugs past the courtyard, leaving a small cloud of dust behind it.
Waking up, I squint at the light shining through a crack in the shutters. I am mid-stretch when I remember what happened yesterday. I throw back the bedclothes and leap out of
bed. In my nightdress and barefoot, I run down the stairs and through the house to the kitchen.
There, sitting at the table, are Mamá and Papá. Chita is at the stove, cooking eggs. No one is speaking as I burst into the warm room.
‘Well?’ I plead.
Mamá shakes her head.
Alberto and his papá are still not back. When they left last night, we thought they would go for a short drive. Maybe to the river, where Alberto’s papá sometimes takes us
all fishing.
Chita had postponed dinner, but it became so late Mamá said we would eat and Chita could put theirs aside. After grace, I could only manage a few mouthfuls, and Néstor just pushed
his food around his plate. Even Mamá seemed to struggle. Only Papá had eaten well, complimenting Chita on her excellent stew.
After dinner, Mamá had suggested Néstor and I go to bed early, and for the first time ever, we agreed. I had gone to sleep straining to hear the sound of the old engine complaining
as
Alberto stands looking at him. He shakes his head. ‘You’re a liar,’ he says.
Néstor starts to laugh a screeching, spiteful laugh.
‘Take it back,’ says Alberto loudly, but Néstor is still laughing.
I hear footsteps coming towards us, but I can’t break my stare from what’s happening in front of me.
‘Take it back!’ yells Alberto. He runs towards Néstor and throws himself on top of him, punching and kicking him with all the strength he can muster.
At that moment, Mamá appears from the entrance to the house and Alberto’s papá appears at the courtyard’s exit. They arrive in time to see Alberto viciously hitting
Néstor, and they both run over.
‘Alberto!’ shouts Alberto’s papá. He pulls Alberto away, and he clearly can’t quite believe what he just saw. ‘What were you doing?’ he asks crossly.
Then he sees that Alberto has tears running down his face. He can’t look at his papá, staring instead at his boots.
Mamá kneels next to Néstor, fussing over him. She wipes the blood from his face with her handkerchief, asking why Alberto was hitting him. But, for once, my brother remains silent,
his mouth tightly set.
By now, Chita has heard the commotion and runs into the courtyard. Seeing the boys are being attended to, she heads over to me and helps me to my feet.
‘What happened,
chica
?’ she asks, beginning to brush the dust off me. She hasn’t noticed the wine stains. I follow the boys’ lead and do not say anything. I
don’t think I could say it out loud – not when Alberto’s papá is so close.
Alberto’s papá is bending over Alberto with his hands gripping the tops of Alberto’s arms. He’s looking directly into Alberto’s face, but Alberto doesn’t
even glance up.
Then Alberto’s papá turns and walks towards the house. I don’t know what this means. Is he now refusing to talk to Alberto? What’s going to happen next?
He disappears into the dark of the house, but when he returns, he is rolling down his shirtsleeves and putting on his jacket. He carries Alberto’s jacket and hands it to him.
Alberto takes the coat without saying anything. Alberto’s papá turns to Mamá and says, ‘Please accept my apologies for Alberto’s behaviour. He and I are going to
take a little drive to discuss what’s just happened.’
Mamá nods and looks at Alberto. I thought she would be angry with him, but she doesn’t seem to be. Instead, she appears concerned.
With his hands on Alberto’s shoulders, Alberto’s papá leads him past Chita and me. I stare at Alberto’s face, but he doesn’t look up – not even for a
moment.
Their steps become quieter; then I hear the car doors slam and the engine roars to life. I watch as the old black car chugs past the courtyard, leaving a small cloud of dust behind it.
Waking up, I squint at the light shining through a crack in the shutters. I am mid-stretch when I remember what happened yesterday. I throw back the bedclothes and leap out of
bed. In my nightdress and barefoot, I run down the stairs and through the house to the kitchen.
There, sitting at the table, are Mamá and Papá. Chita is at the stove, cooking eggs. No one is speaking as I burst into the warm room.
‘Well?’ I plead.
Mamá shakes her head.
Alberto and his papá are still not back. When they left last night, we thought they would go for a short drive. Maybe to the river, where Alberto’s papá sometimes takes us
all fishing.
Chita had postponed dinner, but it became so late Mamá said we would eat and Chita could put theirs aside. After grace, I could only manage a few mouthfuls, and Néstor just pushed
his food around his plate. Even Mamá seemed to struggle. Only Papá had eaten well, complimenting Chita on her excellent stew.
After dinner, Mamá had suggested Néstor and I go to bed early, and for the first time ever, we agreed. I had gone to sleep straining to hear the sound of the old engine complaining
as
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