“Just now,” said Roberto, struck by how alike the siblings were with their bright blond hair and their green, storm-tossed eyes. “My bags are down by the dock.”
“Then you should go get them straightaway.” Antía started in that direction. “There’s a big storm coming in. Don’t suppose you want your stuff getting washed out to sea.”
“No,” he said, startled. “No, I really don’t.”
“Hurry, then!” she said, clearly incredulous at such a rookie error.
Roberto turned and dashed back toward the dock. On finding his bags just where he’d left them, still a good way clear of the rising swellby the visitor booth, he heaved a sigh of relief. He grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder.
Antía eyed his luggage critically.
“I hope you’ve brought enough stuff for your stay. If the sea gets worse, we won’t be seeing a supply boat anytime soon.”
“I’ve brought enough food for a month, don’t worry,” he said, still smiling. “I knew this place didn’t cater to visitors in the winter.”
Antía muttered something but was obviously relieved. She and Diego helped Roberto gather the rest of his luggage, and they started up the hill. As they climbed back toward the houses, he saw that the woman was right—the sea was turning rougher. He was no expert, but even he could tell that the docking maneuver would have been far harder in the current conditions.
“How far to the house?”
“About a twenty-minute walk,” Antía said. “There are only a couple of tricky slopes. Steep, and a bit of a scramble.”
“Can’t we drive there?”
Her look spoke volumes.
“Considering you know so much about the island, Roberto Lobeira, I’m surprised you don’t know that Ons has barely any paved road. This isn’t the mainland. There are a few drivable sections, but the rest is all dirt tracks, most in pretty bad shape. That’s why there aren’t any vehicles. They’re forbidden.”
“Forbidden?” He could hardly believe it.
“We’re in a national park, remember. People go pretty much everywhere on foot.”
“No cars.” Roberto looked gloomy. “Great.”
“Isaypretty much everywhere—actually, there is some transportation. The lighthouse keepers have a pickup truck; there’s a truck at the campsite, though that’s closed in the winter; and the park rangers have an SUV.”
“And will anyone give us a ride?”
“The lighthouse guys keep to themselves. There won’t be anyone at the campsite until summer, and none of the rangers are working today. Ons isn’t exactly busy at this time of year.”
“No problem, I’ll manage,” snorted Roberto, picturing the walk up to the house. He was already exhausted and didn’t want to think about traversing “tricky” slopes for another twenty minutes.
“Don’t worry,” said Antía eventually with a half smile. “The rangers’ SUV is near here, by the generator behind the church, and I happen to have a set of keys.”
“I appreciate it.” Roberto shook his head. “I’m not sure I can face carrying all this stuff.”
“No problem,” said Antía. “Give me a minute, and I’ll go get the SUV.”
Antía went off, leaving Roberto alone with Diego. Roberto observed him as the teen concentrated on wiping down his mud-spattered superhero figures. At a glance, there was nothing out of the ordinary about Diego, but little details of body language and facial tics showed he wasn’t completely normal. He was subtly but noticeably different—some mild form of autism, possibly. Roberto didn’t know enough about such conditions to be any more precise, but there was no doubt that Diego had already forgotten the incident with Luis Docampo and was extremely content, lost in a fantasy world that only he could access—he and his superheroes.
“Do you live on the island?” Roberto said to break the ice.
“Mm-hmm ...” was all the answer he got.
“All year round?”
“Sometimes I go to the mainland with Antía, when I have to see the doctor. I don’t like the doctor,” he added, gaze still pinned on his figures.
“And you don’t get bored?”
