Fernando rested for a few hours at Chico’s home, then he returned to his grandmother’s property—or what remained of it, that was. On his climb up the hill to the home site, muddy rivulets coursed past him sluggishly, like slow-clotting veins. He spied the shed he’d thought to take refuge in swept clear down the

Stuck in the dark purgatory of his ruminations, Fernando waited with Chico for the doctor to return. He didn’t want to think anymore about that hellacious storm and the fallout from it. He didn’t want to think anymore about anything. He hated how he couldn’t just stop thinking—even for one single goddamn second. He felt like

Pushing two child’s cots together, Emmanuella made them up with fresh linens from the nicked flower bureau. The faded knit of the sheets was feather-soft with age. Fernando settled his delirious grandmother onto the bed. He averted his eyes as Emmanuella stripped off the damp scratchy poncho and clothed the little old woman in a

Fernando woke the next morning naked and alone. He sat up stiffly from the rock. He pulled on his clothes and shoes which were mostly dry. His grandmother’s nightdress and warstaff were still laying there on the ground nearby him, but the woolen poncho was not. Outside on the bluff, the rain and wind had