I watched my husband’s slim back as he moved up the mountain. His skin did not brown in the sun, only turned yellow and pink. For this trip, he wore a straw hat with a large brim and a veil of gauze. Ti Me had brought it to him, and they had both laughed about it, a shared joke. His back is muscled, but he is a little man, I thought as he walked ahead of me. It was easy to forget this as we wrestled in bed, as I watched him leave me so many mornings. I thought, I still do not know him, but I think about him at all times, so I suppose it makes no difference if I do or not. It is the same.

“This is where the women come to wash,” he said. Before us was a small pool, the water shallow. “This is where I learned to swim as a boy.”

“You swim?”

“You will, too.”

He stopped before the bank of the pool and began to take off the ridiculous hat, his shirt.

“Emmanuel—”

“The washing day is done. It will be dusk soon. No one will come.”

He rolled his trousers up and waded into the water. Then he turned to me and held out his hands.

“There are two other pools above us. The water for this one comes from a waterfall at the top of the mountain. The pool just above us is about seventy-five feet deep. We will move to that one when you are ready. The best pool is at the top, near the fall. It is maybe a hundred feet deep, but the water is so blue you can almost see to the bottom. We will move to that one together. You’ll see.”

“You are very confident.”

“Of course.”

“If I refuse?”

He smiled. “I will demand it.”

Following his commands seemed an easier way forward to whatever version of myself he imagined. So I put one foot into the water, then another. I stepped very carefully over to him. I could hear the water as it moved around my feet. If I was quiet, I could hear the clap of the waterfall above us. A deeper sound than the one I had listened for in the puddles and barrels of water back home, when I was a girl and believed in Ben Daisy’s lady. Emmanuel held out his hands for me. I put both of mine in his.

And then he threw me down.

The water was not deep enough for me to lose my ground. I went under, onto my knees, but when I raised my head, I broke the surface again.

He was laughing, truly laughing. I thought, I have misjudged him. I thought, I have made a mistake.

“This is how my father taught me,” he kept saying.