We are silent. The window is open. It's raining and cold. At last the officer speaks. "Even as far as you're concerned we haven't found anything in the municipal archives."

I say, "Naturally. Grandmother never declared me. And I never went to school. But I know that I was born in the capital."

'The archives there were totally destroyed by the bombing. They're coming for you at two this afternoon."

He added that very quickly.

I hide my hands under the table because they are shaking.

"At two? Today?"

"Yes, I'm sorry. It's so sudden. But I repeat, you can come back whenever you like. You can come back permanently. Many emigrants have. Our country currently belongs to the free world. Soon you won't even need a visa."

I tell him, "That will be too late for me. I have a bad heart. I came back because I wanted to die here. As for my brother, perhaps he never existed."

The officer says, "Yes, that's probably true. If you keep going on about him people will think you're insane."

"Is that what you think too?"

He shakes his head. "No, I only think you're confusing reality with fiction. Your fiction. I also feel that you should return to your country, think things over, and then come back. Permanently perhaps. That's what I hope for you, and for me."

"Because of our chess games?"

"No, not just that."

He stands and extends his hand.

"I won't be here when you leave, so I'll say good-bye to you now. Return to your cell."

I return to my cell. My guard says to me, "It looks like you're leaving today."

"Yes, so it seems."

I lie down on my bed and wait. At noon the bookseller arrives with her soup. I tell her I have to go. She cries. She pulls a sweater out of her bag and says, "I knitted you this. Put it on, it's cold out."

I put on the sweater and say, "Thank you. I still owe you two months' rent. I hope the embassy will pay it."

She says, "Who cares? You're coming back, aren't you?"

'I'll try."

She leaves in tears. She has to open her shop.

My guard and I are sitting in my cell. He says, "It's funny to think that you won't be here tomorrow. But you'll come back, of course. Meanwhile, I'm canceling your debt."

I say, "No, absolutely not. I'll pay you as soon as the embassy people come."

He says, "No, no, it was all just for fun. And I cheated."

"Ah, so that's why you always won."

"Don't hold it against me. I just can't help cheating."

He sniffles and wipes his nose.

"You know, if I have a son I'll give him your first name."

I tell him, "Give him my brother's name instead, Lucas. That would make me happiest."

He thinks.

"Lucas? That's a nice name. I'll talk it over with my wife. Maybe she won't object. Anyway, it's not up to her. I'm the one who decides in my house."

"I'm sure of it."

A policeman comes to collect me from my cell. My guard and I go out into the courtyard, where there is a well-dressed man with a hat, tie, and umbrella. The stones in the courtyard glisten in the rain.

The man from the embassy says, "A car is waiting for us. I've already taken care of your debts."

He speaks in a language that I shouldn't understand but do anyway. I motion to my guard.

"I owe that man a certain amount. It's a debt of honor."

"How much?"

He pays, takes me by the arm, and leads me to a big black car parked in front of the house. A chauffeur in a visored cap opens the doors.

The car pulls away. I ask the man from the embassy if we can stop for a minute in front of the bookseller's on Central Square, but he just looks at me uncomprehendingly and I realize that I have spoken to him in my old language, the language of this country.

The chauffeur drives quickly; we pass the square, we're already on Station Street, and soon my little town is well behind us.

It's hot in the car. Through the window I watch the villages parade by, the fields and poplars and acacias, my country's landscape beaten by the rain and the wind.

I suddenly turn to the man from the embassy. "This isn't the road to the border. We're going in the opposite direction."

He says, "First we're taking you to the embassy in the capital. You'll cross the border several days from now, by train."

I close my eyes.

The child crosses the frontier.

The man goes first; the child waits. There is an explosion. The child approaches. The man is lying near the second barrier. Then the child makes his move. Walking in the man's footsteps, then over his motionless body, he reaches the other side and hides behind some bushes.

A squad of border guards arrives in a four-wheel-drive vehicle. There is a sergeant and several soldiers. One of them says, "The poor fuck."

Another: "What rotten luck. He almost made it."

The sergeant cries out, "Stop your chatter. We have to collect the body."

The soldiers say:

"What's left of it."

"Why?"

The sergeant says: "Identification. Orders are orders. The body must be retrieved. Any volunteers?"

The soldiers look at one another.

"The land mines. We might not make it."

"So what. It's your duty. Bunch of cowards."

One soldier raises his hand. 'I'llgo."

"Bravo. Go to it, son. The rest of you move back."

The soldier walks slowly up to the shattered body, then breaks into a run. He passes by the child without seeing him.

The sergeant screams: "The bastard! Shoot him! Fire!"

The soldiers do not shoot.

"He's on the other side. We can't shoot over there."

The sergeant raises his rifle. Two foreign border guards appear on the other side. The sergeant lowers his weapon and hands it to a soldier. He walks up to the corpse, hoists it onto his back, returns, and drops it to the ground. He wipes his face with the sleeve of his uniform. "You'll pay for this, you sons of bitches. You're all nothing but a pile of shit."

The soldiers wrap the body in a tarpaulin and put it in the back of their vehicle. They drive off. The two foreign border guards go away too.

The child remains where he is, not moving a muscle. He falls asleep. Early in the morning he is awakened by the singing of birds. He clutches his coat and rubber boots to himself and heads toward the village. He comes across two border guards, who ask him, "Hey, you. Where are you coming from?"

'The other side of the frontier."

"You crossed it? When?"

"Yesterday. With my father. But he fell. He stayed on the ground after the explosion and the soldiers from over there came and took him away."

"Yes, we were there. But we didn't see you. The soldier who deserted didn't see you either." "I hid. I was scared."

"How come you speak our language?"

"I learned it from soldiers during the war. You think they'll make my father better again?"

The guards lower their eyes. "Definitely. Come with us. You must be hungry."

The guards bring the child to the village and ask one of their wives to take care of him.

"Give him something to eat, then bring him to the police station. Tell them that we'll come at eleven to make a report."

The woman is fat and blond, her face red and smiling.

She asks the child, "You like milk and cheese? Lunch isn't ready yet."

"Yes, ma'am, I like everything. I'll eat anything."

The woman serves him.

"No, wait, go wash up first. At least your face and hands. I'llget your clothes nice and clean, but I guess you don't have anything to change into."

"No, ma'am."

'I'll lend you one of my husband's shirts. It'll be too big for you, but that doesn't matter. Just roll up the sleeves. Here's a towel. The bathroom is right there."

The child takes his coat and rubber boots into the bathroom with him. He washes, returns to the kitchen, eats bread and cheese and drinks milk. He says, "Thank you, ma'am."