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the boat, the silence was overwhelming. Nobody moved. No one uttered a single word. It was like being immersed in a nightmare.
    “Take this,” Orlando whispered to her, slipping something into her mouth. Then he offered her a little water. “It’s a sedative. It’ll help you rest.”
    She took a sip and swallowed the pill. She burrowed into her husband’s arms and closed her eyes.

CHAPTER 7
    She was awoken by a bright light pushing through her eyelids. When she opened her eyes, an enormous yellow sphere blinded her with its light. It was the most gigantic sun she had ever seen in her life, like a huge ball of fire floating over the sea.
    “Are you awake, my love?” Orlando appeared, smiling, and offered her a plastic cup of condensed milk dissolved in water, and some cookies. “Come out here, my love. It’s not too hot yet, and a little fresh air will do you good.”
    Billie obeyed. Her body was stiff, and her bones ached. The men greeted her and made room for her to sit. They seemed relaxed. Some were having the same breakfast that she was, while others were smoking cigarettes and conversing in low voices, even joking around. Billie realized then that what in the darkness had looked like a boat was actually the body of a truck covered by coarse fabric and roped to some boards, which had been tethered to several huge oil drums that were now bobbing along under the vessel.
    She looked at Orlando apprehensively, but he smiled at her soothingly. All around them was water, unending blue water on every side. The immense sea made her feel tiny, defenseless.
    As the sun rose, it started to get hot. Billie stood up suddenly and went over to her husband, her anxiety and pain reflected on her face.
    “What’s going on?” he asked.
    “I need . . . you know . . .” she whispered into his ear.
    Orlando let out a cackle that made Billie turn scarlet. She turned toward the other men, ashamed, but nobody seemed to be paying attention. He took her by the hand and led her to the back of the truck. There he handed her a large jug that had been cut in half.
    “Don’t sit down,” he warned her. “Just squat. We’ll clean it in the ocean water after.”
    He held up a sheet so no one could see and waited. Billie had never felt so humiliated in her whole life, but she couldn’t hold it any longer. Afterward, Orlando took the container, tossed its contents into the sea, rinsed it, washed his hands, and smiled at his wife.
    “You’ll see, my love,” he said, winking. “One day we’ll be using gold-plated bathrooms, and we’ll laugh at this.”
    The day passed slowly in the suffocating heat, but they were making headway. In the hottest hours, the men took turns protecting themselves from the sun under the tarp draped over the truck, but they let Billie stay under it as much as she wanted. At dusk, they spotted a raft crammed with people, some of whom were children. They all greeted each other from afar, waving their arms jubilantly, wishing each other luck. They soon left the raft behind and lost them from sight when darkness fell. The sea was rougher than the night before, and the boat rocked in a worrying way. Billie was afraid, but the men stayed calm, and Orlando took care of her with commendable solicitude. He offered her another pill and tied her to the truck seat with a piece of cloth.
    “That way you won’t tumble out if the sea gets grumpy,” he explained, with a teasing smile. Billie wasn’t sure whether he was serious or joking. He lifted her chin with two fingers and kissed her on the lips. “Calm down, my heaven. I’ll look after you.”
    Dozing from the sedative but conscious of everything going on around her, she had a terrible night, tossed relentlessly between reality and dreams. The vessel was lurching in a terrifying way. Sometimes it seemed to fly into the air and land roughly on the black waters with a stiff, frightening slap. Billie was afraid that at any moment the improvised ship could fall