Signs Preceding the End of the World by Yuri Herrera Read Free Book Online

don’t know what you think you lost but you ain’t going to find it here, there was nothing here to begin with.

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THE PLACE WHERE FLAGS WAVE

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    Scum, she heard as she climbed the eighth hill from which, she was sure, she’d catch sight of her brother. You lookin to get what you deserve, you scum? She opened her eyes. A huge redheaded anglo who stank of tobacco was staring at her. Makina knew the bastard was just itching to kick her or fuck her and got slowly to her feet without taking her eyes off him, because when you turn your back in fear is when you’re at the greatest risk of getting your ass kicked; she opened the door and versed.
    She’d been asking after her brother around the edges of the abyss. She’d approach anybody she heard speaking latin tongue, give a verbal portrait of her brother, imitate his singsong accent, mention his favorite colors, repeat the story of the land he was there to claim, state his place of birth, list all the things he could do, beg them, please, to try to remember if they’d ever come across him. Until the frigid squall forced her to duck into an ATM booth, where she curled up like a dog and after much bone-trembling managed to fall asleep and dreamed that she was scaling one, two, three, seven hills, and when she made it to the top of the eighth she was awakened by the thunderous contempt of the redhead.
    It hadn’t fully dawned yet—the sky was barely a reddish exhalation that hadn’t quite made up its mind to spread over the earth—but by this time the people who might have information for her were already back in the hustle and bustle. She began to walk, rubbing her palms red and pricking up her ears. As she passed the back alley of a restaurant she heard not only a familiar lilt but a voice she knew. She peeked in and saw the youngster from the bus dragging metal cans up beside the restaurant door; he was working energetically, whistling a song from another time, and though he wore only pants and a t-shirt he didn’t seem to mind the early-morning chill. He had a small bandage on the hand that Makina had schooled. He smiled on seeing her and made his way over, but as he got closer his face clouded, more with sadness than with fear. I must look terrible, she thought.
    Fell on your feet, huh? said Makina.
    Damn straight, the boy responded. How bout you?
    Ok, but I’m not there yet; there’s still someone I have to find.
    Your kin came for a grind, too?
    Yeah, but I don’t know where.
    The kid pondered for a moment and then said Come with me.
    They walked into the restaurant. Makina followed him past rows of cauldrons boiling on the stove, knives, hatchets, cressets, skillets, brokeneck chickens and flopping fish, to a corner where there was a woman deveining a pile of red peppers. She was pale and thin and had an extremely sweet face, but to Makina she looked like Cora, perhaps because of the way she worked, as if undressing her grandchildren for the shower, or because straight away, like with Cora, she felt she could trust her. The woman raised her eyes, fixed them for a second on Makina without ceasing her work on the chiles, and lowered them once more.
    Doña, I’m bringing you this girl here, the youngster said. She’s looking for one of her kin, and since you seen so many folks come through …
    Yes, I know, the woman said, but made no attempt to fill the silence that followed.
    What? asked Makina. What do you know, señora?
    I know who you are.
    Did you ever meet my brother?
    The woman nodded.
    Turned up all sickly and scared as a stray dog, she said. We gave him soup and a sweater and let him sleep under the dish cabinet. Bout a year ago it was, maybe less. Round about that time an anglo woman came, seemed so sad, asking if we didn’t have a young man, said she needed one urgent for a job, she seemed like a good person and just so sad, and I told your kin he should go see if that would work for him, cause like I say she looked like a good person but