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Timothy called Maria's brother, who was a taxi driver, when it was time to go to the airport to pick his father up. They left in the early morning before the sun was really even up, and drove in silence. Isaac slept on Timothy's lap; his face round, beautiful, and calm. Timothy hadn't left the tiny village of Arambol for over two months. He spent his days and nights in the small fishing village, only traveling as far as the beach, and a couple of times, the cliffs. He was amazed at the length of time it took to drive to the airport. The billboards felt violent to him—advertisement for products thrown in haphazard strokes across a mile of space in the sky. Beneath the billboards, water buffalo chewed their cuds, tall white egrets standing on their shoulders.
He waited a long time once
