“I know how to care for them. In th

“I know how to care for them. In the night I spat something strange and felt
something in my chest was broken.” “Get that well too,” the boy said. “Lie down, old man,
and I will bring you your clean shirt. And something to eat.”
[125] “Bring any of the papers of the time that I was gone,” the old man said.
“You must get well fast for there is much that I can learn and you can teach me
everything.
How much did you suffer?” “Plenty,” the old man said.
“I’ll bring the food and the papers,” the boy said. “Rest well, old man. I will bring
stuff from the drugstore for your hands.”
“Don’t forget to tell Pedrico the head is his.”
“No. I will remember.”
As the boy went out the door and down the worn coral rock road he was crying again.
That afternoon there was a party of tourists at the Terrace and looking down in the
water among the empty beer cans and dead barracudas a woman saw a great long white
spine with a huge tail at the end that lifted and swung with the tide while the east wind
blew a heavy steady sea outside the entrance to the harbour.
“What’s that?” she asked a waiter and pointed to the long backbone of the great fish
that was now just garbage waiting to go out with the tide.
“Tiburon,” the waiter said. “Shark.” He was meaning to explain what had happened.
“I didn’t know sharks had such handsome, beautifully formed tails.”
“I didn’t either,” her male companion said.
Up the road, in his shack, the old man was sleeping again. He was still sleeping on
his face and the boy was sitting by him watching him. The old man was dreaming about
the lions.