“Lily,” he said, like he knew me, all my disappointments, my desperate longings. Then he said it again. In his throat, the word thrummed down my spine, jellied my legs. “How can you be scared? That’s not possible. It’s my life, my motorcycle. It’s my horse, my city horse.” He handed me the matchbook. “Write down your address. Two o’clock.”

I wrote the address and handed it to him, thinking, Well, this is humiliating. I’ll never see this guy again. But I was dead wrong. Those few words and numbers scribbled on a scrap of matchbook cover changed my life forever.

THREE

At two o’clock the next day, Omar walked through the doors of the Versailles and to the front desk where I sat with Britta. Just a simple promise kept, but it gleamed and sparkled on the trash heap of broken promises that seemed to have made up my life thus far.

It took only minutes to leave the stink and noise of the city behind. We buzzed through the hill towns of the Beni, a heaven of green valleys and low, wide, sleepy rivers, of endless farmland nestled in a shallow bowl wrapped in the arms of the Andes. It was like Shangri-La. And I wasn’t scared for one second. I felt liberated. I hugged him from behind, his scent of tobacco, machine oil, and sweat blowing back at me.

At a village market, we bought fruit and enchiladas for our picnic lunch. On a windswept plain near a stream, cows grazing nearby, we settled on a soft woven blanket, drinking sugary wine. He asked me question after question about myself. All the while, my anxiety grew. I thought, The minute I give him a hint of how lost I am, he’ll just take the fuck off . . .

“Back home I go to Harvard,” I lied breezily. “It’s a university in Cambridge, in Massachusetts.”

He lay back, resting on one elbow, watching me. “That’s where you learned Spanish?”

I sat up straight and reached for the wine. “Yes, but I’m thinking about veterinary school. Maybe becoming a large-animal vet.”

“What’s that?”

“You, you know, work with horses and cows and stuff. There’s a big demand for it now in the States.”

He looked at me with intentionality, a focus. “Why are you here if you need to study?”

“I’m taking a year off to travel. Just to clear my head.” I reddened. Sweat bloomed on my brow. Usually I was so much better at this. Problem was, most people I lied to didn’t seem so vested in the truth.

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“Just me. I grew up in this big old house on the ocean with four fireplaces.”

“Is that a lot of fireplaces for houses in America?”

“More than a lot of people have.” I reached for a piece of cheese, stuffed it in my mouth. It was like he was looking through me. I bumbled on. “My parents, they’re both doctors, both surgeons. They’re really amazing people; they’re really worried about me coming down here by myself and all; they call me constantly and I tell them I’m fine—”