The Other Hand

an easy room, I am telling you. For example, there was nothing to cut yourself with. All the scissors were made of plastic and their ends were round and soft. If I suddenly needed to kill myself in that room, I did not know how I was going to do it.
    After a long time Charlie looked up at me. “What is you doing?” he said.
    I shrugged my shoulders. “I am thinking how to escape from this place.”
    Silence. Charlie sighed. “They tooked mine Batman costume.”
    “Why did they do that?”
    “Because of why I done a wee in my Batman costume.”
    I knelt down and looked into Charlie’s eyes. “We are the same, you and me. I spent two years in a place like this. They make us do the things we do not want. Does it make you cross?”
    Charlie nodded.
    I said, “It makes me cross too.”
    From behind us I could hear that the rest of the nursery was going back to its own business. Children were talking and shouting again, and the women were helping and laughing and scolding. In our corner, Charlie looked at the ground.
    “I want mine daddy,” he said.
    “Your daddy is dead, Charlie. Do you know what this means?”
    “Yes. In heaven.”
    “Yes.”
    “Where’s heaven?”
    “It is a place like this. Like a nursery, or a detention center, or a strange country far away. He wants to come home to you, but he can’t. Your daddy is like my daddy.”
    “Oh. Is yours daddy dead too?”
    “Yes Charlie. My daddy is dead and my mummy is dead and my sister is dead too. All of them are dead.”
    “Why?”
    I shrugged my shoulders. “The baddies got them, Charlie.”
    Charlie twisted his hands together and bent down to pick up a small scrap of red paper from the floor. He tore at it, and he put it on his tongue to see how it tasted, and then it got stuck on his fingers because of the dampness. He held his tongue between his teethso he could concentrate on peeling the paper off his fingers. Then he looked up.
    “Is you sad like me?”
    I made my face go into a smile. “Do I look sad, Charlie?”
    Charlie looked at me. I tickled him under his arms and he started to laugh.
    “Do we look sad, Charlie? Hey? You and me? Are we sad now?”
    Charlie was laughing and wriggling finally, so I pulled him close to me and I looked in his eyes. “We are not going to be sad, Charlie. Not you and me. Especially not you, Charlie, because you are the luckiest boy in the world. You know why this is?”
    “Why?”
    “Because you have a mama, Charlie, and she loves you, and that is something, no?”
    I gave Charlie a little push toward his mother and he ran to her. He buried his face against her dress and they hugged each other. Sarah was crying and smiling at the same time. She was speaking into Charlie’s ear, saying Charlie, Charlie, Charlie. Then Charlie’s voice came, and it was muffled against his mother’s dress. He said, I’m NOT Charlie, Mummy, I’m Batman.
    Sarah looked at me over Charlie’s shoulder and she just said, Thank you, not making any sound but just moving her lips.
    We walked home from the nursery with Charlie swinging between us. The day was beautiful. The sun was hot and the air was buzzing with bees and the scent of flowers was everywhere. Beside the pavement there were the front gardens of the houses, full of soft colors. It was hard not to be full of hope.
    “I think I shall teach you the names of all of the English flowers,” said Sarah. “This is fuchsia, and this is a rose, and this is honeysuckle. What? What are you smiling about?”
    “There are no goats. That is why you have all these beautiful flowers.”
    “There were goats, in your village?”
    “Yes, and they ate all the flowers.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Do not be sorry. We ate all the goats.”
    Sarah frowned. “Still,” she said. “I think I’d rather have honeysuckle.”
    “One day I will take you where I come from and you will eat only cassava for a week and then you will tell me if you would rather have honeysuckle or goat.”
    Sarah smiled and leaned over to smell the honeysuckle blossom. Now I saw that she was crying again.
    “Oh, I’m sorry,” said Sarah. “I can’t seem to stop. Oh look at me, I’m all over the place.”
    Charlie looked up at his mother and I rubbed the top of his head to show him everything was okay. We started to walk again. Sarah blew her nose on a tissue. She said, “How long am I going to be like this, do you suppose?”
    “It was one year for me, after they killed my sister.”
    “Before you