"She's dead."

"Was she too old? Is that why she died?"

"No. She died because of the war. She was killed by a shell, together with her baby, who was my little sister."

"Where are they now?"

"The dead are nowhere and everywhere."

The child says, "They're in the attic. I've seen them. The big bone thing and the little bone thing."

Lucas asks in a low voice, "You went up into the attic? How did you get up there?"

"I climbed. It's easy. I'll show you."

Lucas is silent. The child says, "Don't be afraid, I won't tell anyone. I don't want them to take them away. I like them."

"You like them?"

"Yes. Especially the baby. It's smaller and uglier than me. And it will never grow. I didn't know it was a girl. You can't tell when it's just those bone things."

"Those things are called skeletons."

"Yes. Skeletons. I've also seen some in the big book on top of your bookcase."

Lucas and the child are in the garden. A rope hangs from the attic, just within the reach of Lucas's outstretched arm. He says to the child, "Show me how you climb up."

The child pulls the nearby garden bench under the window of Lucas's room. He climbs onto the bench, jumps and grabs the rope, stops it swinging by pressing his feet against the wall, and uses his arms and legs to hoist himself up to the attic door. Lucas follows him. They sit on a mattress, looking at the skeletons hanging from a beam.

The child asks, "Didn't you keep your brother's skeleton?"

"Who told you I had a brother?"

"No one. I've heard you talking to him. You talk to him, and he's nowhere and everywhere, so he must be dead as well."

Lucas says, "No, he's not dead. He's gone to another country. He will return."

"Like Yasmine. She'll return too."

"Yes, both my brother and your mother."

The child says, "That's the only difference between the dead and those who go away, isn't it? Those who aren't dead will return."

Lucas says, "But how do we know they aren't dead when they're away?"

"We can't know."

The child is silent for a moment, then asks, "What did you feel when your brother went away?"

"I didn't know how to go on living without him."

"And do you know now?"

"Yes. Since you came here, I know."

The child opens the chest.

"What are these notebooks in the chest?"

Lucas closes the chest.

"It's nothing. Thank God you can't read yet!"

The child laughs. "Oh yes I can. I can read if it's printed. Look."

He opens the chest and takes out Grandmother's old Bible. He reads words, entire phrases.

Lucas asks, "Where did you learn to read?"

"From books, of course. From mine and yours."

"With Yasmine?"

"No, on my own. Yasmine doesn't like reading. She said she'd never send me to school. But I'll be going soon, won't I, Lucas?"

Lucas says, "I could teach you everything you need to know."

The child says, "School is compulsory from the age of six."

"Not for you. You can get a dispensation."

"Because I'm a cripple, you mean? I don't want your dispensation. I want to go to school like the other children."

Lucas says, "If you want to go, you can. But why do you want to?"

"Because I know I'll be the best at school, the most intelligent."

Lucas laughs. "And the most vain, no doubt. I always hated school. I pretended to be deaf so I wouldn't have to go."

"You did that?"

"Yes. Listen, Mathias. You may come up here whenever you want. You may also go into my room, even when I'm not there. You may read the Bible, the dictionary, the entire encyclopedia if you wish. But you must never read the notebooks, you son of a bitch."

He adds, "Grandmother called us that: sons of a bitch."

"Who's 'us'? You and who else? You and your brother?"

"Yes. My brother and me."

They climb down from the attic, they go into the kitchen. Lucas prepares the meal. The child asks, "Who'll do the dishes, the washing, the clothes?" "We will. Together. You and I."

They eat. Lucas leans out the window, he throws up. He turns around, his face bathed in sweat. He loses consciousness and falls to the floor of the kitchen.

The child cries, "Don't do that, Lucas, don't do that!"

Lucas opens his eyes. "Don't cry, Mathias. Help me to get up."

The child pulls him by the arm. Lucas clings to the table. He staggers out of the kitchen, he sits on the garden bench. The child stands before him, looking at him.

"What's wrong, Lucas? You were dead for a moment!"

"No, I just felt faint because of the heat."

The child asks, "It doesn't matter that she left, does it? It's not so serious, is it? You won't die because of that?"

Lucas doesn't answer. The child sits at his feet, hugs his legs, lays his head with its dark, curly hair on Lucas's knees.

"Maybe I'll be your son later."

When the child goes to sleep, Lucas goes back into the attic. He takes the notebooks from the chest, wraps them in a jute cloth, and goes into town.

He rings at Peter's.

"I'd like you to keep these for me, Peter."

He puts the packet on the living-room table.

Peter asks, "What is it?"

Lucas pulls open the cloth. "Some school notebooks."

Peter shakes his head. "It's like Victor said. You write. You buy huge quantities of paper and pencils. For years now, pencils, lined paper, and large school notebooks. Are you writing a book?"

"No, not a book. I simply make notes."

Peter feels the weight of the notebooks. "Notes! Half a dozen thick notebooks."

"It accumulates over the years. Even so, I reject a lot. I only keep what's absolutely necessary."

Peter asks, "Why do you want to hide them? Because of the police?"

"The police? Of course not! It's because of the child. He's beginning to learn to read and he gets into everything. I don't want him to read these notebooks."

Peter smiles. "And you don't want the child's mother to read them either, do you?"

Lucas says, "Yasmine is no longer living with me. She's gone away. She has always dreamed of going to the big city. I gave her some money."

"And she left her child with you?"

"I insisted on keeping him."

Peter lights a cigarette and looks at Lucas without speaking.

Lucas asks, "Can you keep these notebooks here, yes or no?"

"Of course I can."

Peter wraps up the notebooks, carries them into his bedroom. When he comes back he says, "I've hidden them under my bed. I'll find a better hiding place tomorrow."

Lucas says, "Thank you, Peter."

Peter laughs. "Don't thank me. Your notebooks interest me."

"You intend to read them?"

"Of course. If you don't want me to read them you should take them to Clara."

Lucas gets up. "Certainly not! Clara reads everything there is to read. But I could give them to Victor."

"In which case I would read them at Victor's. He can't refuse me anything. Anyway, he's leaving soon. He's going back to his hometown to live with his sister. He intends to sell his house and the shop."

Lucas says, "Give me the notebooks back. I'll bury them somewhere in the forest."

"Yes, bury them. Or better still, burn them. It's the only way of preventing people from reading them."

Lucas says, "I have to keep them. For Claus. These notebooks are for Claus. For him alone."

Peter turns on the radio. He fiddles with the dial until he finds some soft music.

"Sit down, Lucas, and tell me, who is Claus?"

"My brother."

"I didn't know you had a brother. You've never mentioned him. Nobody has, not even Victor, and he's known you since childhood."

Lucas says, "My brother has been living on the other side of the border for several years."

"How did he get across the border? It's supposed to be impossible."