back into her chair and watched the man try to comfort his wife. I still think a schnookerful of schnapps would do her a world of good.
The man was unnerved by the almost amused way that Livia Pinheiro-Rima observed them and saw an opportunity to send her away. Perhaps you’re right, he said. Is the bar still open? Could you get her one?
The bar is always open, said Livia Pinheiro-Rima. She stood up and leaned over the table so that her face was level with the woman’s, balancing herself on her arms. I’m going to get you a schnapps, she said, enunciating each word as if she were speaking to an imbecile. So stop your crying. As she stood she lost her balance and teetered a moment, and then steadied herself by leaning forward over the table again. She looked past the man, into the far distance, and softly belched. The man realized, for the first time, how very drunk she must be.
After a moment she stood up again, and when her tall body was unwaveringly perpendicular she patted her hair and set off toward the bar.
She’s gone, the man whispered to his wife, as if it were the presence of Livia Pinheiro-Rima that had upset her. He leaned closer and kissed the tip of her ear, which a part in her hair revealed. I’m sorry, he whispered into it. Please stop crying. He gently pushed her back into the chair and removed her hands from her face. He looked around for something to wipe her tear-stained face with but found nothing, so used his own hands. The touch of his hands on her face seemed to calm her. She laid her own hands on top of his so that they were both holding her face, and she closed her eyes and rocked herself back and forth and trembled with hiccupping breaths. After a moment she was still and quiet. She removed her hands from his and he lowered his, in a way that seemed choreographed and ritualistic, like the unmasking of the blind.
She looked straight ahead, at the empty chair were Livia Pinheiro-Rima had sat.
I woke up, she said, and I didn’t know where I was. You weren’t there. I was all alone. I thought I was dead.
You’re fine, he said. I’m here. I had just come down to the—
No, she said. Listen. For a moment she said nothing. She continued to stare straight ahead. I wasn’t alone, she finally said. There was someone in the room with me. She came out of the closet and stood by the bed. I could see her. She just stood there, looking at me. And when I spoke to her, she disappeared.
You were dreaming, he said. It was only a bad dream.
You don’t understand, she said. I saw her. And I saw her disappear.
We’ve had a terrible journey, he said. You’re exhausted. Tomorrow we’ll go to the orphanage and something new will begin. And you can forget all this.
I want to go now, she said.
Where?
To the orphanage! she said. I need to go now. I’ve got to see the baby now.
It’s the middle of the night, he said. There’s no way to get there. We’ll go in the morning. Let’s go back to bed.
She stood up and looked wildly around the lobby, as if a sign with directions to the orphanage might be posted somewhere. I’m going now, she said. I won’t go back to that room. You’re always—you never—you always abjure. You hesitate! You’re never, never impetuous!
The beaded curtains made a shivering sound as Livia Pinheiro-Rima passed through them. With both hands she carried a small silver salver on which sat three little glasses of schnapps. She walked toward them very slowly, her head lowered, watching the silver coin of schnapps jiggle in each glass. There was something ceremonial about her approach, something that could be witnessed but not interrupted, and so both the man and the woman stood silently and watched her cross the lobby.
She set the tray down on the exact center of the table and one by one positioned the glasses at the hours of three, six, and twelve. There, she said. Not a single drop spilt. She sat down in the chair she had vacated and lifted one of the glasses off the table. Sit down, she said to them both.
We’re very tired, said the man. We’re going to bed.
No! said the woman.
The man realized that her energy, her fury, had reached its peak and was subsiding.