Beyond the Station Lies the Sea by Jutta Richter Page B

asks.
    â€œWorse,” says Cosmos.
    â€œThen take me to him!”
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    COSMOS TAKES THE LEAD in his red baseball cap. The little white dog named Brutus scurries along beside him, and the Queen brings up the rear. Her heels clatter loudly in the silent night.
    When they reach the embankment, they come to a stop and the Queen takes her shoes off. She can’t climb with those clattering heels.
    I have to tell her now, thinks Cosmos. I promised.
    He clears his throat.
    â€œThere’s something else, Queen. The boy, he’s been talking in his fever. Raving like, so I didn’t get most of it, but there’s one thing he said quite often and clearly: ‘guardian angel!’ And so I promised him I would give you the money back and bring his angel back again. . . .”
    â€œThat’s okay, Cosmos,” says the Queen. “You’ll get the angel back. He only helps his rightful owner anyway. So he’s got to stay with the person he belongs to. That’s the way it is
with guardian angels. I never should have taken him. But it’s okay. Niner will get him back.”
    â€œBut,” Cosmos says, hesitating. “There’s another problem, too.”
    â€œAnd what would that be?”
    â€œI ain’t got it all. I had to spend some of that money.”
    Cosmos breaks off, not daring to look the Queen in the face.
    The little white dog has sat down and looks at Cosmos with its head cocked.
    The Queen is silent. She can’t say anything because her eyes are filling with tears.
    â€œI’m sorry about the money,” says Cosmos after a while.
    â€œForget about it,” answers the Queen. “Now take me to Niner. He needs his guardian angel. And as for the rest of it . . . we’ll take care of that later.”
    The driftwood fire burns bright and high, lighting up the riverbank. Bald Pete lies snoozing on the retaining wall.
    The others are sitting in a circle around Niner as the Queen approaches.
    â€œNiner! Niner! Look who I brought along!” calls Cosmos.
    But Niner doesn’t answer. He stares up at the sky, his eyes glazed over with fever. His breathing is labored.
    â€œWe’ve tried everything,” says Red Elsa.

    Harmonica Johnny took off his sweater to cushion the little one’s head, and Buddy Sloop stood in front of him, making funny faces and even taking out his glass eye and tossing it in the air in an attempt to make Niner laugh.
    â€œBut Niner never laughed,” says Red Elsa.
    â€œI put compresses on his legs. That was right, wasn’t it, Madam Queen?”
    â€œAnd I played harmonica for him. Music heals all wounds, not compresses,” growls Johnny.
    â€œYou can’t possibly believe that!” says Buddy Sloop. “Your playing’s so out of tune, it’ll sooner make you sick. It’s laughter, isn’t that right Queen? Laughter is always the best medicine.”
    But the Queen isn’t listening. She simply pushes Buddy Sloop and Harmonica Johnny to the side and kneels down before Niner. She bends over him, puts her cool hand on his forehead, and draws it back, startled.
    â€œHe needs a doctor,” says the Queen of Caracas. “This doesn’t look good at all.”
    But Cosmos shakes his head.
    â€œHe needs his angel! The angel first!”
    â€œCan you hear me, Niner?” asks the Queen.
    At that, Niner turns his head, looks at her with his feverish eyes, and nods.
    â€œI’ve brought your angel back, Niner,” says the Queen.
“It was a mistake to buy him. I’m sorry! He belongs to you. And now he’ll look out for you again.”
    At which point Niner smiles and whispers, “Now I can go to the sea.”
    And then he closes his eyes.
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    IT IS A VERY strange procession that makes its way up the quiet street by the mansions in the middle of the night. At the head walks the Queen of Caracas, with no shoes on and her stockings torn. She’s carrying