“Don’t worry, mitaí, I’ll wash them for you,” said Tali, and then she set about resolving various issues. She took Gaspar’s hand, beckoned one of the boys working in the small field behind the house over and told him to move the car on to the gravel, and then served a nice cold tereré on the deck table. “I only have lemon verbena. I’ll bring something for you, mitaí, do you like Coke?”

When she came back with the soda, Juan had stretched out as best he could in the hammock chair and had splashed a little fresh water on his face.

“You could have let me know you were coming, I would’ve had some food ready, gotten the house in order.”

“I didn’t know if I was going to be able to make it there alone, so I hurried a little. And when I realized I was too early, I decided I’d rather visit you first than go straight to Puerto Reyes.”

“Are you okay?

He didn’t look at her. Instead, he gazed out at the red of the sunset through the trees.

“And the little one, how’s he taking it?”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Gaspar protested. He set the glass of Coke on the table with a frown and crossed his arms.

“He’s right there, ask him yourself.”

“Well, aren’t you something, kiddo. Are you doing okay?”

“Sometimes yes, sometimes no. I miss my mom, and I get scared when he gets sick.” And with an angry, almost accusatory expression, he pointed at his father.

Tali hugged the boy and sat him on her lap, though Gaspar was already too big to be held. She didn’t know how to respond, since she’d never heard a six-year-old child speak so clearly and sincerely, so she just said let’s go change your sneakers, and asked Juan if he’d brought another pair. Sure, he replied, and I also brought him sandals, though around here he can just go barefoot. No, not barefoot, said Tali. Too many bugs.

In the bathroom she washed Gaspar’s legs, changed his shoes and shirt, and listened to him talk about the animals he’d seen on the drive there, including a buck with horns. She thought it was very strange for a stag to be so far from the wetlands, but nothing could really be considered strange when Juan was around.

Tali had first met Juan in Buenos Aires. Her father had brought her there with the intention of making her study, but Tali would run away from school, throw tantrums on the floor, cry. Rosario had tried to convince her that school wasn’t so bad and the two of them could have fun together. But Tali had replied it wasn’t school she hated: it was the city. So, Adolfo Reyes desisted from trying to educate his younger daughter at the best school in Buenos Aires, as he was doing with Rosario, and he let her return north, to her temple and her herbs and her rural school.