The man’s eyes were missing.

In the next instant a startled centipede, sinuous and black with bright yellow legs and a flattened head bearing probing antennae, scurried out of the left bloodied orbit, down the once handsome face to the ground, and wiggled beneath the leaf litter.

Nitro glanced back at me, scowling. “I think we might have stumbled into some deep shit, chavo.”

1955

1

Patricia Diaz entered through the front doors of María’s school, trying to ignore the apprehension that had been churning in her gut ever since the phone call from the principal the day before. She had been summoned to the school on several previous occasions to discuss her daughter’s academic development or bullying or other sensitive topics. However, these meetings had always been with María’s teachers, never with the resident psychologist.

In the front office a secretary told her the directions to the psychologist’s office, and a few minutes later Patricia was knocking on a door with a bronze plate attached to it that read: Dr. Lola Cavazos.

The door opened and a woman wearing a champagne-colored dress smiled at her. “Mrs. Diaz?” She had an urchin haircut and a friendly demeanor. She stuck out her hand. “I’m Dr. Cavazos.”

“Good afternoon,” she said, shaking.

“Please come in. I’m so happy you were able to come this morning. May I get you a cup of tea?”

“No, I’m fine, thank you.”

“Have a seat.” She gestured to a seat on one side of a desk, while she settled into the seat on the other side. “How are you today?”

“A little nervous to be here.”

“Understandably. So let me get to the point. I’d like to talk to you about your daughter, María. Specifically, how she is coping in grade four. First, however, let me begin by saying I’ve had the pleasure of spending some time with her over the last week, and she is a very well-mannered child.”

Patricia smiled. “Yes, she is.”

“She is also sweet and helpful.”

“She always has been.”

“Mrs. Diaz, from what I understand, you’ve had several meetings with her teachers in the past. What have they told you about her academic performance?”

“That she’s a little behind some of her classmates. Her last teacher, Mrs. Ramirez, said she was having difficulty concentrating and was easily distracted.”

“And her general behavior?”

“She hasn’t made many friends. She…keeps to herself, I guess you would say.”

“Would you say, generally speaking, her behavior resembles the behavior of other eight year olds?”

Patricia wanted to say yes, but she wasn’t here to deceive anybody. She was here to get María help. “No, I suppose not.”

“If you were to name an age you believe her to be functioning at…?”

“Perhaps a seven year old.” She hesitated. “Perhaps even a six year old.”