Luca stepped through the hatch and out onto the tiny steel grate catwalk. His face lit up in a big smile when he saw his Special Friend.
His Special Friend put his finger to his lips. “Shhh,” he said. “Close the hatch and come stand over here.”
Luca closed the hatch, took a few steps, and stood over by the railing.
“Now, we’re going to do something that will seem a little odd for a moment. But just go with it, okay?”
Luca gave a sharp nod. Of course.
“Close your eyes. Just for a moment.”
Luca closed his eyes.
He felt his Special Friend put something around his mouth, some kind of strap, and fasten it behind his head. Then he instructed Luca to put his hands behind him, and he fastened them together with another strap around his wrists.
Luca started to say, “What’s that for?” but of course it came out “Mwhh mwhh mwhh?” because of the strap tied over his mouth.
He began to feel a little anxious.
What kind of game was this, exactly?
“It’s okay,” his Special Friend assured him. “Can you breathe okay through your nose?”
Luca nodded.
“Good,” said his Special Friend. “That’s good.”
Luca felt a sharp sting in the neck, and then his Special Friend had him sit down on the catwalk and lean his back against the railing.
“Now open your eyes.”
Luca opened his eyes, though it took some effort. He was feeling strange all over.
He tried to talk again, momentarily forgetting that he had that strap across his mouth—but strap or no strap, he couldn’t make any sound at all. Nothing. Not even a Mwhh mwhh mwhh.
It was then that Luca Santiago understood.
This was not a game.
He was going to die.
Manny! What’s going on? Why is this happening! he tried to scream—but there was only silence and the sounds of the water below and the strap around his mouth being unfastened.
Now the strap loosened and came off, but he still couldn’t talk. He couldn’t do anything. He could feel everything, just like normal, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t even blink.
A sharp smell came to him. It was pee. His own pee. Oh, God—he had just peed right in his clean clothes, and there was nothing he could do about it. He was going to die right there in his own pee, and he would never smell clean pressed laundry, ever again.
A great sadness welled up inside him.
His Special Friend crouched down in front of him and looked into his eyes.
“Luca, Luca,” the man said softly. “We need to turn that frown upside down!” He picked up Luca’s right hand, holding it up between them by the thumb. “Let’s play another game.”
With his other hand he brought out a pair of metal snips.
“This little piggy went to market,” he said in a soft singsong.
He placed the snips’ two little arms on either side of Luca’s little finger, right where it connected to his hand.
Luca knew what was going to happen next, yet somehow he did not feel afraid. There wasn’t room to feel any fear. The great sadness crowded out everything else. No more dancing, no more song. No more life.
It was more than he could bear.
There was a soft crunching sound.
An explosion of pain crashed through him, blotting out all his thoughts. He was dimly aware of the man holding up Luca’s little finger and tossing it overboard. “Didn’t really need that one,” the man murmured, and he smiled at Luca, an empty smile that made Luca’s flesh crawl.
“And this little piggy stayed home.” He held up the snips again.
There was blood on them now.
Crunch.
Another explosion of pain, way worse than before, like his whole arm was on fire, all the way up to his neck. Not being able to scream made the pain even worse.
The man tossed his ring finger overboard, too. Then something in the water must have caught his attention, because he looked down over the rail and said, “Well, hello.” He turned to Luca. “Looks like you have a new special friend!”
Luca didn’t want a new special friend. All he wanted was to be back in the laundry room again—or alone in the woods at home in El Paso, where he could lie down on the moss by himself and weep openly.
The snips. His middle finger.
“This little piggy had roast beef.”
Crunch!
KAAAAAH! In his mind Luca screamed at the top of his lungs. In his body, he just sat there on the catwalk, sadder than the saddest song he ever heard.
“And this little piggy…”
Crunch!
“That’s your pointer finger, Luca.” The man was crouching in front of him again now, holding the severed finger up to Luca’s face so he could see it. “And you know what? This one I actually need!”
He dropped Luca’s index finger into a little plastic sandwich bag and put it in his pocket. Then he set down the snips and turned back to Luca.
“And this big little piggy?”
He grabbed Luca with both hands, under the arms, got him upright and turned around, leaning him over the rail so his eyes looked down.
That was when Luca saw it, too.
And now he was afraid—so terrified that all thoughts of El Paso and the laundry room and sadness and pain vanished with a POP! and in his mind he shrieked and shrieked and shrieked—
Down there, down in the water, was an enormous fish, the biggest fish Luca had ever seen. With teeth.
And stripes, like a tiger.
“And this little piggy—” the man grunted with effort as he lifted Luca up and over the railing “—goes Wee! Wee! Weeeeeee!…”
Luca was in the water.
Luca was in the teeth.
I’ll miss you, whispered Lulu.