I could not tell any of this to Thérèse. If I told her, she would think me ungrateful, even crazy. No one, not even Thérèse, would understand my hesitation. I don’t completely understand it myself.

On the way back from Thérèse’s house, she and I promised to write to one another. Thérèse’s mother will pick up the letters when she goes to Léogâne. Thérèse will keep me up to date on everything that happens here, and I will write her of all the new things that happen to me in New York.

We crossed pinkies, swearing we will never forget each other.

LATER

Thérèse went back to her house. We will say our final good-bye tomorrow, since we’ll have to pass her house on the way down to Léogâne.

LATER

The stars are out in large numbers tonight. While Manman and Moy continue packing their things, with help from Granmè Melina and Granpè Nozial, Tante Rose and I sit out in the yard for a while, looking up at the stars.

Tante Rose is staring so hard she hardly blinks. Perhaps she is remembering what it was like to look up at this same sky when she was a girl. If I ever come back here as a woman, maybe I will look at the sky in the same way.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 17

We all got up with the first rooster’s crow. I never heard the roosters so loudly before. Perhaps it is because I was not sleeping deeply anyway.

Manman’s leg seems healed now. Or maybe she has so many other things to think about that she is not concerned about her leg, but she is walking just like she did before the explosion.

As we packed our things on Granpè Nozial’s mule, he told us his ice story again. This time the lesson seemed to be that he was happy enough that we were going to a place he hadn’t seen and we need not worry that he would be jealous.

On the way down the mountain, we passed Thérèse’s house. I said good-bye to her, renewing our vows to remain friends forever. I held her so tight and for so long that everyone left me behind.

I had to run to catch up. As I ran toward my family, I felt like I was being disloyal to Thérèse, like I was deserting her. I didn’t look back because I did not want to cry even more than I already did.

When I caught up with Moy, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to me to wipe my face.

“You’ll see her again,” he said. “We’ll come back to visit her.”

I didn’t believe Moy. If this were true, then why had Papa never come back to visit us?