Mouthful of Birds

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The mother of the woman on the cot always had wanted her daughter to study and move to the city. She demanded her daughter get good grades, and she made sure to repeat that if she didn’t try hard now, she would pay for it later, and it would be costly. The woman on the cot studied. She did everything her mother told her. The school was two miles from the house and she traveled there by bike. When it flooded, the school called to assign her homework. In high school she learned typing, English, basic computing. On her way home one afternoon, the chain on her bicycle broke. The woman on the cot fell into the mud and the notebooks she was carrying in the basket were ruined. A boy who was driving a truck down the road saw her fall, caught up with her, and got out to help. He was very nice. He gathered up her notebooks and wiped them off on his coat sleeves, and he offered to take her home. They loaded the bike into the truck bed. They talked a little during the drive. She told him what she was studying, and that she was preparing to move to the city. He seemed interested in everything she said. He had a very fine gold chain hanging around his neck with a small cross on it. It seemed beautiful to her. She didn’t believe in God, and her mother didn’t either, but something made her think her mother would like him. When they arrived she invited him to come to dinner later with them. He seemed delighted, but said:

“It’s just that I have to go to work in a while. I’m a fisherman.” He smiled. “Can I come tomorrow?”

“No,” she said. “I don’t think tomorrow is a good idea. I’m sorry.”



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When the woman on the cot went to the city, she was twenty years old. She was pleased to see that the houses weren’t raised on wooden stilts, so floods and fishermen were ruled out. The city also seemed warm to her, and it made her a little dizzy those first days. On Sundays she called her mother and told her some things about her week. Sometimes she lied. She didn’t do it out of malice, but rather to distract herself. She told her mother that she’d gone out with new friends. Or that she’d gone to the movies. Or that she’d eaten some delicious food in a neighborhood restaurant. The mother seemed to love these stories. And sometimes she couldn’t wait to hang up, so she could repeat them over the phone to the aunt as well.

The woman on the cot had some savings and had signed up at a community college. But the expenses of food, rent, and school were very high, and soon she had to interrupt her studies and look for a job. One afternoon she was out buying bread, and the woman at the shop, to whom she sometimes told her problems, said that she had just the job for her. She said it would pay good money and leave her plenty of time to study. The woman on the cot wasn’t stupid. She knew the job could involve something unpleasant that no one else would want to do, or that it could be dangerous. She said she couldn’t make any promises, but she was interested in finding out what it was.

The shop owner drove her to a nearby avenue and stopped in front of a two-story building with a sign that said INSTITUTE. Inside, there was a small throng of women. One of them, wearing a peach-colored uniform that also said “Institute,” asked the women to form a straight line, and threatened not to reserve a turn for them if they were disorderly. The women quickly got organized. Another woman in a uniform recognized the shop owner and came right over to them. She led them into another room and asked the woman on the cot to roll up her pants so she could see the hair on her legs. At first the woman on the cot thought she hadn’t understood the request. But it was repeated. Then she thought it was ridiculous, and that this was surely not a job for her. But neither did she see the danger in showing her leg hair to the uniformed woman, so she rolled up her pant leg and showed her. The woman in uniform put on her glasses and studied the hairs, taking a small flashlight from her pocket and shining it on them. She assessed the ankle, where the hairs were not very thick, and also the calf. Only when she seemed convinced that the woman on the cot would do did she explain the job, giving a general description and the salary. The woman on the cot didn’t know what to say. The job was very simple and the pay was acceptable. Her mother had talked to her so much about the traps that were everywhere in the city that she tried for some seconds to figure out where the danger or the deception could be. But it still seemed like a fine offer. And she accepted.



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Samanta Schweblin's books