“You can’t sleep, and you want me to tell you a story that will give you nightmares?” The eye that he opened sparkled with mischief.

“Yes. I want to know,” I said, playfully hitting his shoulder.

“Right, well, the one that always stuck with me more than any other is the ritual he has when he kills his rivals. He cuts off their heads and plays fútbol with them.” He pulled me toward him.

“No!”

“You told me you wanted a story,” he said, touching his forehead to mine, a laugh escaping his lips.

“I know, but good God, he is an awful man.”

José wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in closer to him. I nestled my head in the soft space between his shoulder and neck. “Why would Oribe align himself with such a monster?”

José took a deep breath. “I do not know, my love.”

I looked up at my husband. “What’s going to happen now?”

“You let me protect you from the demons.” His arms tightened around me as I drifted off into sleep.

*  *  *

Two days later José rushed through the door, returning home earlier than normal while I washed up from my and Menotti’s lunch. He quickly moved around the house, checking the windows. “José, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“Lock the doors.”

“What are you talking about?” I said, one of my eyebrows rising to question my peculiar husband.

“I said lock the doors. We are not leaving this house until I say so.”

“José, now you are just being ridiculous.”

“Rivera, the former president, is planning a coup. It’s happening tomorrow.” He walked over to Menotti, picking him up, holding him close.

I dropped the plate I was holding, large shards scattering across the floor. “Are you sure? Where did you hear this?”

“I have my sources. They’ve been planning it. Rivera and his men are preparing to move in on the government. They’ve had enough of Oribe’s alliances with Argentina.”

“Are you going to be involved when it happens?”

“No,” José said, looking back at me. “I can’t abandon my family.”

As José had instructed us to, we stayed in the next day and the day after that. José cautiously ventured out to see what had become of the coup while I spent another day at home. Later that day José came home with fresh bread, a smile on his face, and a box of pastries under one arm.

“Well, we have avoided the war for now,” he said, setting the box on the table and picking up Menotti, who was already obsessed with what his father was carrying. “Oribe was ousted, it was all fairly peaceful. Rivera showed up with his army and escorted Oribe out of the capital.” He broke apart some pastry and fed it to Menotti, whose eyes shone with joy at the flavor.