Antonio Hill - The Summer of Dead Toys

Joana got up and went toward the girl to sit by her side. She thanked her with a brief smile, but continued reading.

It started two summers ago, at the end of July, when there was only one group of kids left to arrive. We always have a few days alone between groups. Alone means Mama, Inés and I, and the priest and a monitor. For those days Inés and I have the whole pool to ourselves. It’s like we’re rich and live in a house like the ones on American programs. But Inés doesn’t like the water very much, so that day I was swimming on my own. I liked swimming and I was good at it. Front crawl, backstroke, breaststroke. . all the strokes except butterfly, which I couldn’t do. Because of that, he offered to teach me. He came to the side of the pool and showed me how to move my arms and legs. He is quite good-looking and is very patient. He hardly ever gets angry, even when the kids are bad and don’t listen to him. We were there for a while, me swimming and him at the side of the pool, until I got tired. Then he helped me out of the water even though he didn’t need to. It was late and there was no sun, so he said it was better that he dry me straight away so I didn’t catch cold. He stood behind me, wrapped me in a towel and began to dry me with pleasure. He was tickling me and I was laughing. He laughed at the beginning too. Then he didn’t: he was drying me more slowly and breathing loudly, like when someone is asleep. I didn’t dare move even though I was completely dry, but I started to feel strange. I was still wrapped in the towel and he was caressing me through the fabric. Then he put his hand underneath. And then I did try to get away but I couldn’t. He didn’t say anything: just shhh, shhh, even though I wasn’t talking. Then he said: I won’t hurt you. I was surprised because it hadn’t occurred to me that he could. His finger was going up my leg, the inside of my thigh, higher and higher like a spider. He stopped where my thigh ended and breathed in. It was a few seconds: his finger went to the edge of my swimsuit. I squirmed. And then he breathed deeply and let me go.

“God!” exclaimed Joana, but Héctor’s look silenced her. Leire remained quiet, watching this young woman sinking into a horrifying, brutally poignant story.

I didn’t tell Mama. Or anyone. I felt like I’d done something very bad but I didn’t know what. And he didn’t say anything else. Except: go and get dressed, it’s late, in a half-angry voice. As if I’d distracted him. As if suddenly he didn’t want to see me any more. The next day he didn’t come to the pool. I saw him pass by from the water and I called him: I wanted to show him that I’d been practicing and I was doing it better. He looked at me, very serious, and left without saying anything. I didn’t want to swim any more and I got out of the pool. It was earlier than the day before and it was hot. I lay down on the towel, letting the sun dry me. I think I was hoping he would appear but he didn’t. He must be angry with me. I said to myself that if he dried me again I wouldn’t be so silly. But the next day the next group of kids arrived and the other monitors, and he didn’t have time for swimming classes any more. I kept practicing every evening, when the pool was empty, because the kids were doing other activities, and I told him one day that I was getting better at it. He smiled at me and said: I’ll come and see you, I want to check your progress.

And he came: the last day, after the kids had left. And he clapped. I was proud: Mama didn’t care if I swam well or not, she knows nothing about sports, so I was very happy. When I got out of the water I stayed still, hoping he would dry me. But he only gave me the towel. From a distance. And then he said I deserved a prize for having made such an effort in the pool. What prize? I asked him. He smiled. You’ll see. It will be a surprise. Tomorrow go to the cave in the wood after lunch and I’ll give it to you, OK? But don’t tell Inés, or she’ll want one too. It was true. Inés always complains on my birthday when I get presents. She complains so much that my mother and grandparents always end up buying her something even though it’s not her party, it’s mine. So I didn’t tell her, and the next day I managed to go without her seeing me. I didn’t tell Mama either because if I did I’d get stuck with Inés.

“You don’t have to do this,” murmured Joana, but Inés’s glance was determined.

“I know. But I want to do it. I owe it to her.”

That was two summers ago. Now I hardly ever go down to swim. I don’t want to. I just want to sleep. Really sleep, without dreaming. I’ve asked everyone how to avoid dreams and no one has been able to explain how. No one knows anything really important. Anything really useful. Mama only knows how to cook and watch me. She watches me every time we sit down to eat. I can’t bear her. I don’t want her food. Every time I vomit after eating I feel happy. Maybe this way she’ll learn to leave me alone.

The cave is twenty minutes from the house. You have to walk a good bit uphill, through the wood, but I know the way perfectly. Every group of kids hikes there, so that summer alone I’d been there four times. Sometimes a monitor goes ahead and hides in there to frighten the little ones or things like that. So that day, at siesta time, I went there as we’d planned. When I arrived I couldn’t see anyone. Caves don’t frighten me, but I didn’t want to go in alone either and I sat waiting on a rock, in the shade. I like the wood: the light slips in between the branches and makes designs on the ground. And there’s a silence that isn’t complete silence, as if it has music. There was a slight breeze which was pleasant after the steep climb. I looked at my watch, although I wasn’t sure what time I had to come. But he wasn’t long. He arrived about ten minutes later. He was carrying a rucksack on his back and I said to myself that my present must be inside. He seemed nervous and he was looking behind him the whole time. He was sweating, and I guessed he must have run there. He let himself fall down beside me and almost smiled. I asked him: Did you bring my present? And then he really smiled. He opened the rucksack and took out a bag. I hope you like it. It wasn’t wrapped so I looked inside the bag. Take it out! he said. It was a pink bikini with little strawberries. I loved it. Then he said: Put it on. Let’s see if it’s your size. I must have hesitated because he insisted: Come on, I want to see how you look in it. Change in the cave if you are embarrassed. His voice was hoarse. Then I didn’t know if that voice came out when he wanted to play or when he was angry. Slower, slurring words. And when he has that voice he always looks away, like he’s not talking to you. As if he’s embarrassed.

I went to change and came out with the bikini on. I walked up and down like the models on a catwalk do. The way he looked at me made me feel pretty. Then he said: Come and sit beside me. I tried but I was uncomfortable: the earth and the pebbles stuck into my legs. He took out a towel from his rucksack and spread it out for both of us. And we lay down and watched the light coming through the trees for a while. I told him things and he really listened to me. You are very pretty, he whispered while he stroked my hair. And then I really felt like the prettiest girl in the world.

I hid the bikini, just like he told me to, so Inés wouldn’t find it. My mother saw it, of course, and commented that one of the kids must have forgotten it. I smiled, thinking that just like he’d said, that present was our secret. I didn’t put it on again until the next summer, the first day the monitors arrived, but he didn’t notice. I swam in the pool, like I had the year before, but he was busy with the others and didn’t pay me any attention. But afterward, when I met him in the corridor, he said very seriously: you have to wear a swimsuit in the pool. Then he winked at me and added: But you can put on the pink bikini when we see each other in the cave. After all, I gave it to you. I didn’t understand, but I nodded.