The Body of Martin Aguilera

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The first day of her visit Laura asked if the light in the refrigerator stayed on when the door was shut. Lewis Mason told his granddaughter that it didn’t matter. “It may well stay on,” he said, putting water on for tea, “but it doesn’t matter.”

“May I have tea, too?” Laura asked, pulling up a chair and sitting at the table.

“You may have herb tea.”

“You’re not drinking herb tea.”

“Herb tea isn’t good for me.” He dropped the bags into the mugs.

“Is the other tea good for you?”

“It doesn’t put me to sleep.”

Laura watched as he poured the water. He set the mug down in front of her and she grabbed the string and began dunking the bag in and out of the water. “What are we going to do today?”

“We’re going to town for some groceries, but first I thought we’d stop and see old Martin.”

“Who’s he?”

“He’s somebody even older than me. He knows all the good fishing spots and when they’re good.”

“When are we going fishing?”

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