Burning Down the House

Начало книги

IT BEGINS with a child. She lives far away from any city, high up in the mountains. She sits by a fire. Light turns in crazy pinwheels on her soft young cheeks. Wind blows and the moonlit clouds go wild, an armada of wayward ships. Her mother and her father are close by, talking quietly in a tone that could be ominous or soothing, depending on the words, which she cannot understand. Her father says something and her mother begins to cry. The girl pulls her legs up and rests her chin between her knees.

—

Her father comes over and sits next to her. I remember the day you were born, he says. I swore then that I would always take care of you. He wraps his arms around the girl and holds her tightly. Life is not very long, he tells her. I want you to have everything.

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The recruiter had come by when the child was getting water. She was off by the river, with her laughing friends. He seemed to know the area, the family, the girl. He spoke their language and promised safety and good work. He wore a shining watch and carried a leather wallet and showed the couple a picture of a restaurant where the girl could get some work. He pulled the photo out from between a wad of bills. The man and the woman were not sure what a restaurant was, but they were too amazed by the recruiter and the bills and the gleaming diner in the photograph to ask him any questions other than when.

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