Contents ( 49)
- PROLOGUE
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- EPILOGUE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
For long seconds I stared down into Dutchie’s greenish-white face, his hair floating out like a blond medusa, his expression one of disappointment, betrayal, his mouth open, still.
Are you dead? Are you dead? Are you dead?
He had to be! His eyes looked into mine but were motionless, his face several inches from the surface of the water, his bony chest still as clay under his unbuttoned shirt. I lunged toward Omar, but Dutchie’s hand leapt out of the water, grabbed the fabric of my dress, and wrenched me down to him.
He pulled me underwater, clutched me tight to his chest, so close we could have kissed, his rubbery flesh touching mine, the whites of his eyes filled with madness and panic. I put one hand on each of his skinny shoulders and pushed down with all my strength, my head flying out of the water as I gasped for air. Still his big-knuckled hand gripped my dress. Why don’t you die? Wailing, I held him down until his fingers loosened. They scrabbled at the fabric of my dress until his hand fell away. After long moments, his legs stopped churning and his face relaxed and smoothed out, all his problems over as his eyes glazed like milk on a china plate, gazing up at the brooding sky above me.
FORTY-ONE
Sobbing, I pushed myself away from Dutchie’s body and stumbled to where Omar lay facedown in a shallow eddy. I turned him over and held him in my arms, the river lapping gently at my back. His open eyes saw nothing. I screamed his name, screamed for my heart, my love, till my voice was gone.
Only the sullen silence of the jungle answered me, the patter of the rain on my head and shoulders, women’s rain, the kind that never ends.
I dropped my head down on his motionless chest, pulled his body close, as part of me fell away. I ached to go wherever he had gone, thought, I can’t live through this.
I’m not sure how much time passed.
Cradling him, I walked toward shore. Grappling with him by his armpits, I dragged his body up on the wet sand, stopping to rest, cry, look at him; to give up, start over, and give up again, finally getting all of him out of the water and laying him down on his back. As if I were getting into bed with him, I got my own cumbersome body down on the wet sand, fitting myself next to him on my side. I inhaled his gorgeous Omar smell, present even in the early minutes of death. I traced the contours of his face, felt the subtle cleft of bone under his handsome cheeks. I muttered words of love, shutting each eye before combing his hair back from his forehead with my fingers.
The baby’s foot kicked near my heart, as if he was trying to resuscitate me.
A bird shrieked in the high green clerestory above me. I pushed myself to one elbow, all awareness, every cell firing. Dutchie’s gun lay nearby; I scrambled over to it and flipped open the magazine; all bullets fired. I blinked back nausea, dizziness.