“The people of the land have their own way of forgetting things, their own kind of amnesia. One of them is these omitted narratives… When I first saw these many years ago, I was as puzzled as you are now. But it helped me in a certain unpredictable situation. It helped me to make the most difficult decision of my life. And you know that I never regret any of my decisions,” Hurmaz explains. Tirad wants more clear statements and this kind of mysterious talks makes him feel anxious.

“Perhaps truth is not always the written texts passed along to us… You will know when you’ll need them. Now! Go on and get ready before your boat leaves for Oxan…” he says and this time hurries before Tirad is able to stop him. Tirad stands there. He feels like something is squeezing his heart. He knows Hurmaz will come to say goodbye at the harbour. He probably won’t need to stay in Oxan for too long but he already feels like he deeply misses Hurmaz, he feels homesick already.

Chapter 13

The young boatman turns off the engine and the spotlights, says goodnight and goes to his cabin. The other boatman is a middle-aged man with grey hair and shaggy clothes. He throws the anchor into the sea and walks around the boat inspecting it. Obviously, they will not ride anymore at this time of night. Tirad hadn’t seen the middle-aged boatman since they sailed. The boatman had been resting the whole afternoon so he could stay awake at night and guard the boat. Tirad has to spend the night in the boatmen’s cabin. It is a well-equipped boat but it only has three cabins, one taken by the women, the second one by Mart and Yuma and the third is for the boatmen that Tirad will also use. All the passengers except for Lealy and the young boatman are on the deck and no one seems willing to break the silence of the night. Even Mart and Yuma, who are old friends, won’t speak to each other. Asin, still bruised by yesterday’s beatings, is leaning against the gunwale; she could hardly walk as they were embarking the boat. Dalia is sitting next to her mother and once in a while soaks her head from a bucket of water that she had filled when they got on board. She has done this less times since the sun went down, maybe the sunshine or the humidity of the dry season annoys her. Tirad wanted to ask her why she does this but didn’t want to talk to the girl in front of Mart. Dalia unties her nails one by one and hands them to her mother. She peeks at Tirad as she takes off her nails.