And so, weeks after I said polite goodbyes to Frank and Jeanette, carrying my treasure in my arms, I am returning it to you, on loan, until you can find a bandoneón of your own. I know you will take good care of it, and I would love to hear you play, next time you’re in Victoria or I’m in Vancouver. When, years from now, you’re ready to give it back to me, I will accept it gratefully. Thank you for returning it, and thank you for making it sing again.
Yours truly,
Facundo
I slip the letter back into its hiding place and stroke the bandoneón with one finger. I can’t stop smiling.
Sarah’s gift is in a box similar to the one I left for her, and a note is taped to the top. I thought you might like these. At the very least, they’ll save you from the boredom of this year’s shopping trip. XXOO Sarah.
Inside is a pile of almost-new clothing, and I soon discover that each piece fits like it was made for me. I don’t look like a model, but I do look good.
Maybe this school year will be different after all, I think, admiring myself in the mirror. Then I pick up the bandoneón and begin to play.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
The military dictatorship in Argentina “disappeared” thousands and thousands of people (estimates range from 9,000 to 30,000). The government and its agents captured people who they felt threatened the dictatorship. Captives were hidden away in secret detention centers, where they were tortured and often killed.
Captive pregnant women were usually kept alive until they gave birth, and the babies were given away in illegal adoptions. Police doctor Jorge Bergés, whose name I use in this novel, attended many of these births and wrote false birth certificates so that the children would never know who their real parents were.
These days, people who suspect that they might be children of the disappeared can find out by contacting an organization called the Grandmothers of the Plaza de Mayo. This group is dedicated to learning what happened to their grandchildren who were captured or born in the secret prisons. Through DNA testing and extensive research, the Grandmothers have identified eighty-eight children who had been given away in illegal adoption. The group will continue its work until they find and identify the other four hundred who are still not accounted for.
Although the military dictatorship in Argentina ended in 1983, years passed before the Argentine government agreed to try the people involved in the kidnapping, torture and killings. Even so, disappearances continue. In 2006, Julio López, who had been held and tortured during the dictatorship, was scheduled to give a final testimony against a former chief of police. Hours before the trial, Julio López disappeared and has never been heard from again.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’d like to thank Dr. Jonathan Goldman, Assistant Professor of Music at the University of Victoria, for his help with details about the bandoneón. Thanks, too, to the Canada Council for the Arts and the BC Arts Council for financial support of this project and to Susan Braley, Henry and Alvera Mulder, Maureen Parker, Holly Phillips and Robin Stevenson for support and encouragement throughout writing and revision. I’m grateful to Sarah Harvey for her brilliant editing suggestions and to the whole Orca team for producing beautiful books and for being such a pleasure to work with. I’d especially like to thank Gastón Castaño for his research help, encouragement and faith, and to Maia Elisa for her joie de vivre and love.
When she was growing up, Michelle’s favorite spot was the library, so it’s no surprise she studied literature at university. After graduating, she cycled across Canada, traveled in South America and married the Argentine pen pal she’d been writing to since she was fourteen. She lives in Victoria, British Columbia, with her husband and daughter. For more information visit www.michellemulder.com.
978-1-55469-176-0 $7.95 pb
Ten-year-old Rosario Ramirez and her family are political refugees from Mexico, trying to make a new life in Canada. After being teased at school, Rosario vows not to speak English again until she can speak with an accent that’s one hundred percent Canadian. But when her family’s closest friend and fellow farm worker, José, gets sick on the job, Rosario’s plan starts to fall apart. Neither of Rosario’s parents speaks English well enough to get José the help he needs. Like it or not, Rosario must face her fears about letting her voice be heard.
Out of the Box Page 10