—Can I hold his hand? Esperanza asked the guard, who looked away. —Don’t worry, Bobby, I heard that if you behave in here and do well in your classes, they’ll let you out early. That kid Arnold is supposed to confess that he stole the gun from his father. And when that confession is on record, it might help get you out of here sooner.

Don Chan became confused. Bobby?

—And Lalo insists that you didn’t have anything to do with the deal. So that will help you a lot.

Sí, sí. Bobby was in trouble, Don Chan remembered. Why didn’t Bobby say anything?

—Bobby, Don Chan said, as if seeing him for the first time.

—Hola, Abuelo. Bendición.

—Just like your father, Don Chan said, not believing how similar they were. —Makes it difficult for an old man to keep it straight.

—It’s a’ight, Abuelo. I’m glad you came.

Los Llanos

1965

Miraluz was washing clothes by the river when Don Chan approached her. He waited before speaking to her. She had the head of a bull, the nature of a goat. She was still angry from their last conversation because Don Chan had sent her off to her grandmother. But she deserved it. She was wise for her age, but he was three times as old as she. She should know better than to talk to him with disrespect.

—What do you want? Miraluz turned around and spoke first. The words pierced him like a dagger.

—So that’s how you greet an old friend?

Miraluz shaded her eyes from the sun. He had gained some weight, which he wore well. His hair was long, falling over his face. The unbuttoned blue guayabera exposed a thin undershirt.

—Don’t you see I’m busy?

Miraluz had tried to avoid him. But there was nowhere to hide from Don Chan. His name lived in every kitchen.

—We miss you, Don Chan said.

—I want nothing to do with a movement of cowards.

—Did you not eat from the garden? Don Chan said. —The garden was part of the movement.

Miraluz gathered the clothing and sheets in her basket. Don Chan looked handsomer than she remembered. Her grandmother didn’t understand why Miraluz refused to return to the fields, why the mere mention of Don Chan made her slam the tin dishes against the buckets of water.

—I saw you planting in the gardens today.

—With everyone leaving Los Llanos, I’m not sure if it will ever be the same. Maybe she too would have to leave Los Llanos to find work in the nearby cities.

—Of course it will. It’s only the beginning, Don Chan said. You saw how people started to come together and make plans for developing Los Llanos when they saw the fruits of the garden. It’s only the beginning toward realizing our independence. We can’t lose hope.

—More than hope has been lost. People are afraid and hungry now.

—We’re organizing to go into the capital to put Juan Bosch back into office. There are some rebel groups there we can align with. We found a place to work out of, in a clinic near the Ozama River.