Lost in the City: Tree of Desire and Serafin by Ignacio Solares

Cristina saw Joaquín’s back. He was seated on the bed, playing with some paper figures Jesús was cutting out for him with a pair of large scissors. She was going to call him, but Angustias repeated the threat in her ear.
    â€œRemember, I’ll cut out your tongue.”
    Angustias took her by the arm and pushed her toward the street.
    â€œIf you say anything, anything at all, I’ll go cut out your brother’s tongue right now.”
    A woman who was hanging up clothes said to Cristina,
    â€œDon’t go with that crazy old woman, child,” and then, when she saw her closer, “What happened to your face?”
    â€œI fell,” Cristina said, feeling the pressure of Angustias’ fingers on her arm.
    By the time they got to the street, Cristina realized how much her nose and mouth were hurting.

13
    Cristina burst out crying. Angustias stopped her at a corner and squatted down so she could talk to her looking into her eyes, as she moved her forefinger and middle finger back and forth like scissors.
    â€œYou’re going to be quiet, because if you’re not, look.”
    Cristina blinked, seeing the movement of her fingers.
    â€œShow me your tongue.”
    â€œNo!” She was going to run, but the woman grabbed her with a hand that to Cristina felt like pliers on her arm.
    â€œSo you’re going to behave now, aren’t you?”
    Trembling, she nodded her head and looked at the ground. A drop of blood from the corner of her mouth made a red stain on her dress, like a confirmation of her fear.
    â€œNow you’re going to take my hand and go where I tell you to, without crying or talking.”
    Cristina obeyed. They walked two blocks, Cristina never raising her eyes.
    â€œDo you have any money in that purse?” the woman asked her.
    â€œNo.”
    â€œLet me see.”
    â€œI have a hundred pesos.”
    â€œGive them to me.”
    Cristina clutched the purse to her chest with both hands, as if she were protecting her heart.
    â€œThey’re to buy food for my little brother.”
    â€œGive them to me, or I’ll take them from you.”
    Cristina slipped her fingers in the purse like tweezers. She gave the hundred-peso bill to the woman and closed the purse nervously. Angustias showed her gums in laughter.
    â€œStupid brat. I know you have more money.”
    Cristina withdrew again, staring at the ground, and muttered between her teeth, “I hate her!”
    They took a bus to a residential neighborhood and got off at a wide street with poplar trees. They walked down the street.
    â€œLook, that’s the church I usually stand outside,” she said, pointing to a cross that seemed to float above the tops of the trees, “but today we’re going to do another little job.”
    She took her to a house that looked like a castle with parapets, a fountain in the garden, and bare trees. They sat on the wall at the base of the high grillwork and the woman took a small jug out of her pocket, put two coins in it, and made them jingle whenever someone passed by—which was only sporadically. A woman pushing a fat, rosy baby in a carriage dropped three pennies in the jug and smiled at Cristina.
    â€œAnd this little girl?”
    â€œShe’s my little granddaughter. So sweet, she’s keeping me company,” Angustias said.
    â€œIs she your grandmother?”
    Cristina nodded her head.
    â€œWhat happened to your mouth?”
    â€œI fell.”
    â€œDo you live nearby?”
    Cristina nodded again.
    â€œWhat a pretty baby,” Angustias said, bending over to caress him, but the woman avoided that by pushing the carriage ahead. Then she left, with another smile.
    â€œYou did very well,” Angustias said to Cristina. “There are very few people on this street, but you have to be careful anyway. I brought you here so you can help me get into one of the houses.”
    â€œWhich one?”
    â€œThis