No Place for Heroes

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“I NEED TO know how it happened,” Mateo tells his mother. “The dark episode, I need to know exactly how it happened.”

“I’ve already told you a thousand times,” she responds.

He was the one who had given it that name, the dark episode, partly because it had been so painful but also because it was buried under a mountain of half-truths. The worst part was that he had no memory of it because he had been too young to remember. Blindly stabbing — an expression he had heard. That’s how he felt, like a blind man trying to jab his way out of a story that he did not understand, but in which he played a part and which snared him in its net.

“Come on, Lolé,” Mateo says, softening his voice and addressing her by the name he had always used when he was a child. Now he prefers to call her by her given name,

Lorenza, and when he is irate with her, simply Mother. “Come on, Lolé, tell me again. Let’s begin with the park.”

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