He looked her in the eyes, and she saw a rage so deep it frightened her. He put out the cigarette in a mug, took a notebook from his bag, and told her we have to get that temple fixed. We’re going to take a walk outside, he told his son, we’ll be back in a bit. The kid nodded, hypnotized by the morning cartoons even though the image was filled with vertical lines and snow, thanks to the precarious aerial. Outside, Juan stood for a while in Tali’s garden, which was small but had passionflowers, chrysanthemums, dahlias, forget-me-nots, wisteria that climbed up tall ferns and reached the house and ascended up the walls to the roof, purple foxgloves that looked like hoods, and some orchids hanging from the trunk of a peach tree.

Tali followed Juan to the temple, which she kept locked with a padlock. She didn’t open the place much—almost all the faithful came in August, with offerings. If anyone had a special request, they came to her first, and then she would set a date for the ritual.

“Do you want to go in?”

“Not yet.”

Juan had opened his notebook and was drawing with a very small pencil, or at least one that looked very small between his large fingers. When he drew standing up he always bent his body, pushing his hips forward and curving his back. It didn’t take him long, and when he was finished he lifted up his sunglasses to see if the final product was satisfactory. He wiped his damp forehead with his shirt, then approached the door of the temple and touched it, caressed it.

“Come here, Tali,” he said.

He asked her to hold the notebook so he could see the drawing, and then pulled a razor blade from his back pocket. He cut the middle finger of his right hand from the tip to the knuckle and then let his hand hang down. When the blood started to flow, he used the finger like a pen to reproduce the image in the notebook on the white-painted door. Tali looked at the seal he’d drawn. It was delicate and had the geometrical correctness typical of Juan. Only as she was admiring the design of the protection, which looked simple but provoked an ambiguous repulsion even in her, did Tali notice the silence.

“With this you’ll never need another protection again. You could leave the door unlocked if you wanted.” He fell silent and looked into Tali’s eyes. “It’s a seal that was recently given to me.”

“Are you asking for protection?”

Juan looked at the bandage on his hand, soiled with blood and sweat.

“I’m seeking protection and it’s offered to me, slowly, as always. As you well know, I still haven’t received what I really want.”

Then he motioned with his good hand for her to give him the notebook.

“If you want to swim, I’ll make you a good bandage so you can get in the water.”