A few days after I slashed Anna’s father’s tires, Rosita stood at my door. I’d seen her approach, but I’d quickly ducked behind the double pleats of my curtains—my mother thought the pleats were “richer looking.”
“I know you’re in there!” she yelled through the letterbox after ringing the doorbell three times. “Open up—I want to talk to you.”
It was quiet awhile. Then she cried, “I’m not mad. Promise.”
Another silence. Finally she called, “I’m not leaving until you open the door, you hear me?”
I got up and went into the hallway. It was too cold outside to have her stay out there until early the next morning, when I’d leave for work.
She stood in a miniskirt and the kind of boots people wear for motorbiking. So I asked her, “Are you going motorbiking?”
She burst out laughing. “Of course not, silly, it’s the fashion.”
I forgave her for calling me silly because I was so happy to see her smiling at me.
“May I come in?” she asked.
“Where’s Anna?”
“My stepdad is taking her to the toy store. Can I come in?”
“Uh, yeah, I guess.” I walked hurriedly ahead of her, to straighten the sofa cushions.
“Heavens, it’s tidy in here! Why do we always hang out at my place? It’s much nicer here. You even have candles on the table! But you never light them, I see. What’s the point of having them?”
“My mother thinks they make it look cozy.”
“They make it look cozy if you light them. Come, let’s close the curtains and make the room a bit darker. Do you have a light?”
Before I could answer she took out her own lighter. “Go on, close them.”
As I closed the curtains that matched the sofa cushions, which were also chosen for me by my mother, she lit the candles. Then she sat down on the sofa.
“See how nice it is in here, Ray?” In the candlelight her face looked even prettier than usual. “Come sit next to me.”
I did what she said. How could I not?
She sighed. “Ray, what you did to Victor’s Jaguar was very bad.”
I kept my mouth shut.
“Very bad, but also very sweet.” She began to laugh. “And funny, too.”
I laughed along with her. It was impossible not to.
She took my hand and squeezed it. Her hand was warm. It was a warm, soft hand. My penis immediately jumped; I couldn’t help it. I wanted her to touch it with her soft, warm hand. But at the same time I was afraid.
“But the thing I really wanted you to know is that I regret what I said about . . . well, you remember. I didn’t mean to make fun of you or call you an idiot. I think you’re great. You do know that, don’t you?”
My penis was pointing straight up. I didn’t want her to make fun of me again. I folded one leg over the other.
“Why are you squirming like that? Oh, God, don’t tell me.” She got up and pulled her miniskirt straight. “So your mother has done all this nice decorating but will not tell you who your father is.”
It always worried me when she started talking about my mother. I tried to think of a way to change the subject.
“Turns out your impeccable mother hasn’t been a very good girl, either. Did you know your father is a married man? Married to somebody other than your mother, that is. I guess his poor wife won’t be too happy when she finds out.” She started laughing.
I cleared my throat. “Let’s go buy the fish for Anna tomorrow.”
Rosita gave me a peck on the cheek.
“You don’t want to talk about it? Fine.” She blew out the candles. “Anyway, what I wanted to tell you was, don’t worry about Victor going to the police for what you did to his poor car. He can’t explain, see, why his car was parked on this street in the first place.” She giggled and flounced out of the room, hips swaying, leaving me sitting on the sofa. I heard the door slam shut and stared at the smoke curling up from the blown-out candles.
Rosita and Anna were already waiting for me when I returned from the bakery the next day. They were both looking very smart. Rosita wore a dress and the navy raincoat that we had recently bought together.
“I feel like a princess,” she’d said when she’d tried it on. I had paid for it, though my savings were almost all gone.
“Ray!” Anna stretched her arms up and came running toward me.
For an instant I wondered if she really meant me. But she stopped right in front of me, her arms still outstretched.
“Hey,” I said. “How you doing?” I handed her the paper bag with the madeleine. But instead of tearing it open, she just stood there gazing up at me.
“Pick her up,” said Rosita. “Can’t you see that’s what she wants?”
I bent down and placed my hands under her armpits. Carefully, I picked her up. It was the first time I’d ever done that. Anna flung her arms around my neck and gave me a kiss on the cheek. It felt nice. But awkward, too.
“You’re blushing,” said Rosita. “How cute.”
The three of us walked to the bus stop. Anna wouldn’t stop talking about the fish I was going to buy for her.
“Do you know what kind you want yet?” I asked. “A clownfish, a blenny, an angelfish, a doctorfish . . .”
“I want blue,” she said.
We came home with a magnificent angelfish. Van de Akker had just received it in a shipment from the Caribbean. It was a prize specimen. Anna named it King Kong.
Together we recorded the purchase in the logbook. I put my hand over hers and helped her make the letters. The words King Kong wound up smudged across at least four lines. Even so, I didn’t mind.
At the door, when they were leaving, Rosita said to me, “It almost feels as if we’re a family. You, me, and Anna.”
I stared at the floor.
“Thanks for everything you do for us. You’re really a very sweet man.”
She grabbed my chin, tilted my head up, and kissed me on the mouth. Her lips were soft, and sticky with red lipstick. What did this mean? Did the kiss mean she loved me? Did she want to marry me? Or was it normal to kiss someone you think is “a very sweet man”? And what about Anna’s father? And was it right for us to kiss in front of Anna?
She peeled her lips off mine and gazed at me, smiling. I hardly dared look back at her.
“See you tomorrow, Ray.”
Rosita and Anna walked down my front path, turned right, walked ten steps, and then turned up their own front path. I kept on waving at them. Even after they stepped through the front door and disappeared inside. Family. She had said it herself. We were almost a family, the three of us. I think that evening I was happy.
I opened my eyes and saw I was lying in a solitary cell. It smelled of disinfectant. It wasn’t an unpleasant scent. It reminded me of the cleaning stuff we used in the bakery.
I was dressed in an unfamiliar outfit made of something halfway between paper and cardboard. I shivered. I felt cold. Not because the temperature in the cell was cold; I was chilled from the inside out.
There was nothing to do, nothing to look at. The only distraction provided was a blackboard and a piece of chalk. I picked up the chalk and began to write. Dear Mother. I erased it. Sweet Rosita. Erased it. Dear Iris.
I never had a sister before, but I supposed siblings shared their secrets with each other. Hadn’t she said she’d help me? I wrote and wrote until I’d filled the blackboard, and rubbed it all out and started over again. I just kept writing and erasing. Until I’d told her everything there was to tell. Even the things that must never be told.