The road was lined with spring flowers bursting with vibrant hues of blue and gold. I smiled as I kissed my son’s bald head, though my joy faded as we entered Rio Capivari. Mud splashed up the sides of tents and gathered in puddles along our pathway. The men, stained with filth, watched us pass, their eyes dull and blank as they sat on empty crates. Despair hung in the air like a thick fog. Our once glorious army was now reduced to empty, frightened men. The women paused outside their tents, balancing baskets or children on their hips long enough to assess how much of a threat we were. The sunken cheeks of the children who played at their mothers’ feet made me shiver.

We settled into our shack, a small building hastily constructed of loose boards. I was fearful that one wrong move would send it crashing down around us. My arms filled with excess dry goods to exchange for fresh clothing for the baby, I traipsed through the thick mud to the women of the camp.

“You’re Senhora Garibaldi, aren’t you?” A woman eyed me, her black skin glowing under the bright Brazilian sun that broke through the rain clouds. The small child that she held on her hip grabbed her curly black hair with his tiny fist.

“I am. May I ask who you are?”

“My former masters called me ‘girl,’ but I choose to call myself Pedrina.” Her almond-shaped eyes narrowed as she scanned me from head to foot, disdain evident in her sneer. “We aren’t interested in charity.”

“I was hoping to exchange these.”

Pedrina leaned over and pulled at the sling that held Menotti to my chest. “You need fresh swaddling. Without it your baby is bound to get a rash. Especially out here.” She sucked at her teeth while she watched me. “What do you have to give me for my swaddling?”

“Tea, dry beans, and a little bit of soap.”

Pedrina sat back on her heels. “I’ll trade you some swaddling for the beans.” She turned her head and called out to one of the other women. “Imelda! Have any extra blankets for a baby?”

A stout woman with a mess of children, Imelda pried off the child who was clinging to her skirts before slinking over to us. She examined me, then looked to her friend. “Maybe. What can I get for it?”

“Tea or soap. I already took her beans.”

Imelda spit to the side. “No need for soap out here.” She eyed her friend. “I could have used those beans.”

“Then you should have gotten here sooner.”

Imelda turned back to me. “It gets cold here at night. I’ll give you one of my blankets for your tea.”

I turned over my goods. While Imelda inspected her tea, Pedrina said, “I heard about you and your husband.”