KAREN]. GREENBERG
85
"Mrs. Santos? Carla?"
Carla looked over at the young doctor facing her. She took a moment
to smooth out the lines in her brow, to release her locked jaw.
"I've come to ask a favor," Jorge stated, reaching down for his brief–
case. Carla recognized immediately the leather-bound black book that
Jorge placed on the table between their cortados. The wind had picked
up, so he kept his hands atop the volume.
"You know what this is?" he asked.
Carla nodded. She'd expected never to see the journal out of Alvaro's
possession, at least not until after he died. She looked up, frightened.
"No. He's fine. He won't miss it for tonight." Jorge tapped his fin–
gers on the aged cracks in the leather. She covered his hand with hers,
stopping the movement, the unnecessary pounding on Alvaro's journal.
"We've done great work with Alvaro." Back to his checklist, Carla
understood. "He speaks. He walks reasonably well. He remembers."
Jorge paused, looking out over the water, empty now of boats. "More
and more, he is able to recall the past, his past. He remembers his child–
hood, his schooling, his friends' names. He remembers university, here
at UBA. He remembers the art fellowship he had in San Francisco that
time when he was in his twenties. He remembers exile. And he recalls
what is happening to him day to day now. He knows who visited him
the morning before, even the week before. He can hold onto it. He
knows you haven't been there for six weeks . He remembers when you
were there."
Carla stared at the grounds of her coffee. They had clumped into two
separate piles, while a trail from one mound faded towards the right.
She saw herself as the trail of grounds, the two noteworthy gatherings
symbolizing Alvaro and Luce. She was the straggler, the one who didn't
belong. She would have settled for making herself and Luce the two pri–
mary players, with Alvaro trailing off to the side or between the two.
"I've brought his journal because this is the period he can't remem–
ber. His ten years with you."
Carla turned her face to Jorge. How silly the scene was. Her lover's
son courting her for his father. "Let me make myself clear... " Jorge was
spelling it out as he would dictate a prescription. "For him to remember,
he will need you . We will need you. Often. You will need to fill in the
spaces for him. The past ten years. To tell him who so-and-so was and
to remind us about why he did certain things and what he was feeling."
Carla wondered if Luce would be there with them to fill in the other
parts of the seven years, the moon to her stars. Carla shook the coffee
