Walter, what if we went away?”

I couldn’t tell if he was asleep, but the moment he heard me he turned around and stuffed his head under a pillow. It made me happy to see him asleep in that bed. For a few minutes, it was like nothing had happened.

I waited. Listened to him breathing.

When I was about to leave, he said:

“Put the kettle on.”

I turned on the burner, filled the kettle, set it on the stovetop, and stood watching the flame. My brother came in, opened the fridge, took out a bottle of water. He poured a glass and stood next to me, propped against the wall. He watched the flames as he drank.

“Remember when you forgot the old man’s kettle and it went totally black? He wanted to kill you.”

I watched the kettle till it clouded in my mind.

I didn’t think I’d be so sad to leave.

Instead of answering, I asked:

“What about the bottles?”

Walter took another sip of water and said:

“The bottles stay.”

We kept on watching the fire, in silence. Though I could tell the kettle was getting too hot, I didn’t move. Walter turned off the burner, held the kettle under the faucet, and let a stream of water pour over it. Meanwhile, I grabbed the mate and the half-empty packet of yerba.

We sat at the table in the suite.

Not long after, Miseria shoved open the door and came in without knocking.

She glanced at the mate and sat down next to us. She was smiling differently.

“I can get some scratch from selling my bike. I’ll bring the tools, though, they might come in handy,” my brother said, as though it was just the two of us.

“I’m done with the earth,” I said to Walter, who said nothing.

Miseria looked at me, wide-eyed.

I handed the mate to my brother, who passed it to her after filling it with water. Their fingers brushed.

“Where will we go?” I asked.

I don’t know why but I wanted them to stop touching.

“I’m coming with you,” Miseria cut in.

“Hell no. I don’t want to end up behind bars,” said Walter, and he slammed the mate on the table to show the conversation was over.

Miseria didn’t scare. Instead, she grew bolder.

“I’ll tell my ma I got a job. And come with you.”

We looked at each other, Walter and me.

“What sort of jobs can you even do?” he said.

“Hell if I know. But she’ll let me come with you if I tell her I got a job.”

I said nothing but thought of how Miseria wasn’t much older than I was when my old lady was killed. And that I liked the thought of her coming with us.

We were quiet for a long time. Then Miseria said:

“We’ll take the mate,” and laughed.

And I could tell Walter was crazy about her.

He got up and walked toward where I sat.

He kissed me on the forehead.

“Let’s go, lil sis,” he said.