Lidia came back with several pieces of news: you can go in to see Gaspar, he can leave in a while, but I’d prefer him to stay a few hours until Juan can come. If he doesn’t turn up, I’ll take him to my house. What bad luck, poor thing. He just hit his head two months ago.

Gaspar wasn’t alone. There was a doctor with him, a different one.

“Your friend is a champ!” he said. “He’s no sissy, this one! He’s going to be good as new.”

Then he led Lidia to one corner and Pablo couldn’t hear much of what he said, something about dressings and antibiotics. When they came back—Gaspar hadn’t looked at him once, just stared down at his bandage—they said if you need anything just knock on the door, we’ll come for you.

As soon as the doctors closed the door, Gaspar sat up in the bed and looked Pablo in the eye.

“You didn’t say anything, right?”

“About what?”

“If you said anything, I’ll kill you.”

“Say anything about what, man?!”

Gaspar lowered his voice and hunched over: he seemed like an animal.

“We had a fight; he was the one who cut me. You realized it. If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you.”

Gaspar was threatening him, he was furious, he even looked like he wanted to hit Pablo. But Pablo couldn’t get angry. The revelation had left him exhausted, like he couldn’t catch his breath. He moved closer to Gaspar though his friend put out his hand in a clear “leave me alone” gesture; he ignored him and sat beside him on the bed and saw how Gaspar was trying not to look at him, his eyes instead exploring the peeling green paint on the wall, the poster that labelled the human skeleton, a taped-up sheet of paper with X-ray schedules, the many glass bottles and syringes. Pablo touched Gaspar’s hand and Gaspar let him, and he also let him put an arm around his shoulders, but he wouldn’t accept more consolation. You going to tell me what happened? Pablo asked in a low voice, and Gaspar nodded, looking at his friend with dry eyes when he said: But I can’t right now. That’s okay, Pablo told him.

“Thank you,” said Gaspar after a while, after taking a several deep breaths. Was he trying not to cry, or to calm himself? Pablo didn’t understand, he had no idea how someone would feel after being abused like that by their father. “Really. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there.”

“You would’ve taken a taxi.”

“Maybe. The belt was a great idea.”

He said it without smiling. Pablo thought he was never going to see Gaspar smile again.

“Otherwise you would have fallen on your face. Are you still dizzy?”

“A little.”

Lidia came back in, almost slamming the door behind her. Let’s see here, she said, and she took Gaspar’s pulse. We’re going to your house. Betty says your dad got home a while ago. Arm up, like they told you, don’t leave it hanging.