Even in normal circumstances, Marcelo didn't like to speak to anyone, let alone a stranger. It made him nervous, and nervousness tied his tongue in a knot that would astound the most accomplished sailor.
But she was crying.
It was the first day of school, the recess bell had rung not ten minutes ago, and this poor girl was weeping. Something terrible must have happened to her.
Why is she so sad? he wondered. She's all alone and hiding.
Marcelo looked at the thick row of trees that separated the school buses from the small soccer field, and after drawing a deep breath, he summoned all his courage to walk towards her. No one was around. It was up to him to help her.
However, he hadn't taken two steps forward when the sobbing stopped altogether. He had seen nothing like it before, not even on TV. It was as if she had turned a faucet off. Is she okay? Rooted to the spot, he hesitated. Should I get a teacher?
"Take a picture. It will last longer," the girl said, looking over her shoulder at him. There was an air of strength about her that didn't match her small frame.
Marcelo's heart went cold in his chest, freezing any words he could muster.
"Do you enjoy watching girls cry?"
"N-no. I heard you and—" When Marcelo noticed the motionless cat lying by her feet, his belly sank. Their teacher had just told him and his classmates about Benny the Ball, a friendly stray that had been roaming around the school grounds for so many years that it had become the unofficial mascot of every classroom. He'd always purr and rub against your legs if you had any food, but now he wasn't moving, and his neck looked funny. "Oh, no! Is he hurt?"
"Dead," the girl replied.
The day was sunny, but Marcelo shuddered. The giggling of some girls running nearby, perhaps playing hide-and-seek, felt wrong. Out of place.
"H-how?"
"Are you a stutterer or something?" the girl asked, studying him with her big brown eyes.
"I'm s-sorry," Marcelo turned around, ready to run away. This had to be the worst first day of school in history.
"Don't go," she said. "Wait!"
"W-why?"
"I'm not insulting you. I was curious."
Once their eyes met, he realized she wasn't lying.
"Okay," he came closer to her, not sure why. "Were you crying because of Benny?"
She looked at the dead cat, unfazed.
"In a way."
"I wish I had a time machine to s-save him," said Marcelo.
"Can't change the past."
"Poor Benny. This is so sad."
"Yes. There's always so much sadness."
After a moment of silence, he asked her if she'd seen what happened. He wondered if it had been an accident.
"It's my fault." She teared up again. "Will you tell on me?"
"M-me? No! S-snitches get stitches." He wasn't convincing her, and this was killing him. "I s-swear. Cross my heart and hope to die."
"Why won't you tell on me?"
"Recess is almost over. We should go."
"Mrs. Arruza can't teach me anything I don't already know. Don't avoid the question. Why won't you tell on me?"
Marcelo thought about it for a moment. The bell rang as he shook his head, not knowing what to say. Soon, the kids from the soccer field scattered. Some packed up their breakfast, and all the rest who were playing and chatting with their friends rushed back to their classrooms.
"I'm not special," she said.
"I know."
Surprise raised her brows. "You do?"
"Papa takes me to church every week. Last Sunday, Father Rodriguez said we are all made in God's image. I didn't understand him, so I made my papa ask him what he meant after mass. He explained that it means everyone's the same."
"Which means no one is special." Her half-smile brought a full grin to Marcelo's lips. "Shouldn't you be heading back to class?"
"Only if you come with me." The murmurs in the classrooms grew softer as the wind blew, rustling the tree leaves above them. Right then, they might as well have been the only two kids in the entire world. "What's your name?"