The Transmigration of Bodies by Yuri Herrera

know when they get here.
    The Neeyanderthal finished his coffee and left. The Redeemer took his seat.
    I won’t mix you up in this shit again, he told Vicky.
    At least this time it feels like it matters, she replied.
    They said nothing more. Everything was so quiet you could hear Baby Girl’s silence, as tho she’d absorbed every sound in the room. It was hard and yet formless, that silence. How to describe what isn’t there? What name can you give to something that doesn’t exist yet exists for that reason precisely? Kings of the kingpins, those who had invented the zero, he thought, had given it a name and even slipped it into a line of numbers, as tho it could stay put, obedient. But once in a while, like at that moment, there before Baby Girl, zero rose up and swallowed everything.
    They’re on the corner, the Neeyanderthal shouted from out front.
    I’ll get Neeyan so he can help you carry Baby Girl, Vicky said.
    No no no, that cat’s too rough, he might hurt her.
    Vicky stood and stared, in astonishment or perplexity, or maybe even admiration.
    In that case I’ll help.
    They got close to the bed and he slid one arm under Baby Girl’s back and the other beneath her knees while Vicky cradled her head. He attempted to lift her but the pain in his ribs made him put the body back down. Fuckit, he said. He tried again and again doubled over, fuckit, and he didn’t know why but knew he was about to cry.
    Squat down, Vicky said. Then stand up slowly and I’ll take her back too.
    They did that, and as soon as he sensed that he held all her weight he stood as fast as he could.
    Vicky placed Baby Girl’s arms carefully on top of her body and then positioned her head like she was curled up against the Redeemer’s chest.
    Let’s go, he said.
    Vicky opened one door then ran and opened the next, as he followed in a juddering stumble of painful steps; Motherfucker, he said to each bruise and then to his whole body, Fuck you fuckin motherfucker; and then to her body: Don’t you go and fall on me, Baby Girl, don’t you fuckin even think about falling.
    It was dark out now, but in addition to that there was something different in the atmosphere, the temperature had dropped and the air had finally come unstuck; it wasn’t exactly windy but you could tell wind was on the cards. And the sky was clear and there was light coming from below.
    You want me to help you? asked the Neeyanderthal, seeing him on the verge of collapse.
    No.
    Then carry her properly, this ain’t luggage you’re delivering.
    I know that.
    He saw Dolphin’s truck round one corner. He and the Unruly were alone. They got out and the Neeyanderthal approached to check for gats or shanks or other instruments of slaughter.
    The Redeemer straightened up tall and strode to the other corner, where the towering silhouette of the Mennonite, the fidgety shapes of the Castro kids and the tip of the father’s cigarette could be discerned. Behind them a black hearse. Romeo’s mother wasn’t coming. Sometimes mothers come out to collect their children, other times they stay home no matter what, to make sure their children have a place prepared for them when they get back.
    The Mennonite took a few steps forward then stopped and stood before the Redeemer. He looked Baby Girl over carefully.
    Any need to inspect her?
    None at all. I trust you’re delivering Romeo exactly as he was yesterday?
    Every inch untouched.
    The Mennonite turned and walked back to the corner, circled the hearse and came back, boy in arms. The Neeyanderthal received him, and almost simultaneously the Redeemer delivered Baby Girl to her brothers. Up until that moment the families had been silent, but when the Neeyanderthal got close with Romeo, the Unruly stepped back and started sobbing disconsolately, shrieking with her mouth covered, hands choking back her cries. Trembling, it took her several small steps to make it to her brother tho she wasn’t far at all, and then finally she embraced him