excerpt
Later, strolling alongside a canal, she watched a line of monks file
across a footbridge. They were hairless — man or woman, it was
impossible to say — the delicate hands tucked inside saffron robes,
their fey chant soothing. Each smiled at her in passing.
She didn’t know why exactly, Winnie wasn’t normally impetuous,
but she then reached into her purse and tossed her medications
into a garbage bin. She just decided the pills were meant more for
those trying to control her, for those like Harold and her doctor, who
were made uncomfortable by her crying jags. Henceforth, Winnie
quietly declared, she would feel . . . whatever she felt. Guilt? Then
she would wrestle with guilt.
Winnie decided on an alternate route back to the hotel. She
stopped at stalls to examine items that until that morning had held
little interest. She peeked into cooking pots and ran her hands over
everything.
An hour before the tour bus was scheduled to leave for the airport
she realized she had become a victim of her own nascent curiosity.
She quickened her pace, but the more desperately she tried navigating
a return, the more disoriented she became. The group would be
frantic. Harold would use it against her until death did them part.
Her eyes sought out signage she might recognize from earlier
excursions. Every character was an indecipherable doodle.
– Haroo, ’Merican, Haroo . . .
In her mounting panic Winnie slammed into a lamppost, dropping
her shopping bag. It split apart on the pavement, the oranges
she’d planned to share with the others coursing into the gutter like
bowling balls.
Passing the entrance to the train station she was sandwiched
between rushing commuters and knocked to the ground. Passersby
swerved around her. Some stepped over her like a puddle. Winnie
crawled into a sitting position and began to weep.
– Haroo, ’Nadian!
With his grimy sleeve the boy from the market wiped the mascara
from her cheeks. She pointed to her wristwatch and he
seemed to understand. He helped Winnie to her feet. Off they
went into the labyrinth.
Libros Libertad 