CHARLOTTE
Maybe Florentino is right after all, and it’s better to wait before crossing the river. It’s the most dangerous part, and now we’ll have time to recuperate before taking it on.
We walk on for about another hour, then he points to a large boulder a little farther back from the bank, and we settle down behind it. I heave a sigh of relief, grateful to be able to rest for a while, though one of us always needs to be awake, keeping a lookout. I’m terrified I’ll fall asleep when it comes to my watch; I’m so exhausted, I almost drop off when we’re walking. So when it’s my turn, I make sure it’s time to feed Samuel. I’ve got the hang of it now, and enjoy watching him drink from the bottle, his eyes becoming drowsy as his little fingers open and close as though searching out something to grip hold of. I give him my first finger, and he immediately grabs it, clinging to me as though he’s scared I’ll disappear. His need for me pulls at my heart, urging me to fulfill it. “Don’t worry,” I whisper. “I’m not going to leave you.” His legs kick up and down as he drinks. I take hold of a foot, bringing it to my lips.
In the afternoon, we move on down the river, careful to keep watch for patrolling soldiers. I dare not watch the water as it gushes past, shooting sparks of fear through me, making my pulse race, then slow, then race again. We can no longer even whisper to each other, the river drowning out any other sound.
After a light supper of nuts and cheese, we wait for dusk. Slipping off our espadrilles, we push them into Jean-Luc’s backpack. I take Samuel, who is awake again and peeking out with unfocused eyes, as if he can sense the danger.
“Get a good foothold. The current is strong.” Florentino stares at me.
I almost roll my eyes at him, but stop myself and turn to Jean-Luc. “Can you make sure the pillowcase is tied properly behind?”
For the third time, Jean-Luc checks that the long pillowcase is wound tightly around me, holding Samuel firmly in against my chest. “Yes, he can’t fall out.”
Florentino bends down to roll up his trouser legs, then steps into the water. When he’s found a foothold, he holds his hand out for me, but I can only just see it in the fading light. Taking a deep breath, I put a foot in, holding Samuel to my chest with one hand, reaching out for Florentino with the other. The icy water makes me gasp, while the current tugs viciously at my legs. I squeeze Samuel up against my chest, my stomach shriveling with fear, terrified now that the pillowcase will come undone. But my arm’s not long enough. I can’t reach Florentino.
“Allez!”
Wedging one foot behind a small rock, I pull the other into the river, my legs trembling with the effort. I stretch my arm farther. It’s still too far.
“Give Samuel to me.” Suddenly Jean-Luc is next to me, his hand on my shoulder. But we agreed I’d take Samuel because of Jean-Luc’s leg. Anyway, I wouldn’t risk passing him over while standing in the gushing river.
“I can do it!” I reach again for Florentino, but he’s too far. It’s hopeless. I’m stuck. If I lift my foot to move nearer to him, the force of the river will suck me down. Yet I have no choice.
I pull my foot up. Suddenly I’m lunging forward, wildly off balance. I grab for the nearest stone. Samuel lets out a sharp cry. Then another.
“Get up!” I hear Florentino yell.
One hand tight against Samuel, ignoring his cries, I raise myself up, digging my feet into the riverbed, my legs shaking wildly. Again I reach for Florentino. This time I touch his fingers. Instantly he wraps his large hand around my wrist, pulling me toward him. “Shut the baby up! Get Jean-Luc’s hand.”
Samuel screams louder and louder, but the river carries his cries away. The realization of what I have to do hits me like a fist in the stomach—I have to lift my hand away from Samuel so I can pull Jean-Luc toward me. I know the pillowcase was tightly tied, but what if it’s come loose with the effort of that one step? Why, oh why, did Florentino put me in the middle with the baby? He should have taken Samuel himself. Hatred for our guide pulsates through me. I close my eyes.
“Now! Do it!” Florentino shouts above the gushing of the river.
“Charlotte,” Jean-Luc calls out. “Samuel is safe! Give me your hand!”
But my hand refuses to leave the baby.
Jean-Luc digs his cane into the riverbed, pulling himself across. Helpless, I watch his arms and legs trembling with the strain. He takes one large step, thrusting his hand out to reach mine. For a second my hand leaves Samuel as I reach out to grab Jean-Luc’s, gripping it tightly.
Violently, without warning, Florentino tugs my other arm. Stumbling on the slippery rocks, I lunge forward again. Samuel jolts upward. I scream.
“Give the baby to me!” Florentino shouts. “Now!”
I can’t do it. His anger terrifies me. It sounds like he wants to throw Samuel into the river. But his enormous hand is already reaching for him. “Now!”
While I’m still fumbling with the pillowcase, he snatches the baby away from me, pulling him out by his arm, as though he were pulling a rabbit by its ears.
I scream. Then, gulping back my tears, I continue to sidestep across the river, Florentino pulling me on one side, while I pull Jean-Luc on the other. When we eventually reach the other bank, I collapse on the ground, shivering and shaking uncontrollably.
Florentino thrusts the crying baby into my arms. “We were very lucky. I said no baby.”
I bury my head into Samuel, trying to smother his cries. He’s wet through and screaming with terror. I hold him tight, rocking backward and forward on my knees. Surely we will all die by this damned river! Then I feel a hand on my shoulder.
“We’re in Spain, Charlotte!” I hear the crack in Jean-Luc’s voice as he starts to cry. “We’re in Spain!” He falls down next to me, his arm coming up, wrapping its way around Samuel and me. Together in a tight knot, we sob. Then we laugh—hysterical mad laughter.
I feel Florentino tugging at me, pulling me up. He takes Samuel from me, not roughly like before, but gently, holding him around the body. As I watch him, I’m vaguely aware of Jean-Luc scrabbling in the rucksack, looking for dry clothes. Already Florentino is peeling off the baby’s wet rags, then he undoes his own jacket, and by the light of the moon, I see his large hairy chest as he lays Samuel against it, doing the jacket up again. Samuel’s crying is muffled, but I can hear already that the sound is fading.
“Make the bottle!” I turn to Jean-Luc, who is already adding a dose of cognac to the milk.
Florentino snatches it from him, pushing it down under his jacket, into Samuel’s mouth. Then we’re up again, running through the trees. Florentino, still holding Samuel, pulls me along through the darkness, and I pull Jean-Luc along.
I lose track of time as we move blindly through the night. Every crack of a branch, every scuttling animal makes my heart jump. Then we’re heading downhill, and it’s easier. At last Florentino draws to a stop. “There now. See the light?”
I stare out into the blackness, seeing nothing. Then I spot a glimmer of a light; it seems to grow brighter the longer I look at it.
Laughter spills out of my mouth. I can’t control it.
“Charlotte, shh.” Jean-Luc squeezes my hand, but I’m still laughing as we half run, half hobble toward the house.
I fall into the arms of the woman who opens the farmhouse door. Then it’s all a blur. I am only vaguely aware of a blanket being placed over me. Then nothing. Blissful nothing.