Page 79 of That Last Summer

“Did you build that ladder yourself?”

At this stage, Alex could read his neighbor perfectly. “What is it you really want to ask me?”

“How far does your fear of the dark go?”

Alex sighed. “I’m over it now, really. It’s just... I don’t like darkness. I need a light on. Always.”

“Why? What do you feel?”

She wanted to understand; to help, if she could.

“My parents travel a lot, for work,” he explained. “They’ve done it for as long as I can remember. My brother was the one who took care of me. He’s ten years older, but he was still just a kid—he’d let me watch scary movies with him, but then I had to sleep alone. That’s what men are supposed to do, you know.”

“Your brother is an idiot.”

“Yes, sometimes he is. I’d go to bed terrified; I still remember it. I saw monsters everywhere. I know they don’t exist, that they can’t hurt me. But I still hate the dark.”

“I get it.”

Priscila lay down on the rocky bottom of the stream and urged Alex to lay down with her. She knew what her neighbor needed: in the water, he felt safe. They looked up at the sky from beneath the rippling surface.

On their way back, just before they reached the station, they realized they were being followed.

There was a dog behind them.

They stopped and studied him. He was very skinny. Dirty, too. Priscila took some scraps out of the backpack she’d had on her back—she and Alex had taken turns carrying it through the day—and the animal devoured the sandwich almost before it reached its snout.

“He’s been abandoned,” Alex said.

Tears welled up in Priscila’s eyes. She didn’t understand. How could anyone do that? She didn’t hesitate. Her brother was a veterinarian, he’d recently graduated; Hugo needed to take a look at him.

She took the dog in her arms and carried it to the train.

“Pris, what are you doing?” Alex asked.

“Taking him home.”

“Animals aren’t allowed on this train.”

“They’ll have to kick me out then.”

And that’s exactly what happened. Luckily, by the time the inspector found the dog at Alex and Priscila’s feet, they’d traveled more than half their distance; if they had to walk for another two hours, they didn’t care. They’d get there, eventually.

They took turns carrying the dog in their arms; the poor thing couldn’t even walk, and they stopped to rest four times. They let the animal drink from the water bottle they carried in their backpack, petting him all the time.

At one of their stops, Alex lay on his back with his knees up and sat Priscila on his lap. The dog, lying next to them, wagged its tail in happiness. Alex took his neighbor’s hands and told her what he’d been wanting to yell to the world for months now.

“I love you.”

Priscila felt another of her famous bumps, and she bent down, kissing him with her heart in her throat until their little four-legged friend began licking their faces.

It was after ten by the time they got home, and the three of them went straight to find Hugo.

“Hugo! Hugo!” Priscila yelled.

“Priscila, what is it?” her mom asked.

“Hi, María,” Alex greeted her.