"Inas?" Eddie said.
She studied Eddie's face.
"Mommies," she said.
Eddie had heard many children in his life, but in this one's voice, he
detected none of the normal hesitation toward adults. He wondered if
she and the other children had chosen this riverbank heaven, or if, given
their short memories, such a serene landscape had been chosen for
them.
She pointed to Eddie's shirt pocket. He looked down. Pipe cleaners.
"These?" he said. He pulled them out and twisted them together, as
he had done in his days at the pier. She rose to her knees to examine the
process. His hands shook. ''You see? It's a.. ." he finished the last twist
"... dog."
She took it and smiled—a smile Eddie had seen a thousand times.
"You like that?" he said.
"You burn me," she said.EDDIE FELT HIS jaw tighten.
"What did you say?"
"You burn me. You make me fire."
Her voice was flat, like a child reciting a lesson.
"My ina say to wait inside the nipa. My ina say to hide."
Eddie lowered his voice, his words slow and deliberate.
"What... were you hiding from, little girl?"
She fingered the pipe-cleaner dog, then dipped it in the water.
"Sundalong" she said.
"Sundalong?"
She looked up.
"Soldier."
Eddie felt the word like a knife in his tongue. Images flashed through
his head. Soldiers. Explosions. Morton. Smitty. The Captain. The
flamethrowers.
"Tala.. ." he whispered.
"Tala," she said, smiling at her own name.
"Why are you here, in heaven?"