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MARCHING POWDER

there was only one door. Once you were inside, you had to go back out the same way, which meant you could be trapped. At least during the day, the door was kept open and there were people around in the courtyard. In the evenings, the bathroom was locked and you needed a key to open it from both sides. I wasn't happy about going down to the toilet after dark, and worse still, by myself, but there was no choice with diarrhoea; I couldn't do it in my pants and I couldn't ask Ricardo to hold my hand and wait outside the cubicle every time I needed to go.

Luckily, when I went to the bathroom for the first time at night it was around eight o'clock and there was no one else in there. I breathed a sigh of relief. Crouching down to the floor, I checked under the partitions for feet, just to be sure, then I shat the liquid out as quietly as possible, listening intently for the sound of anyone entering. The only noise was a shower that had been left dripping. However, when I came out of the cubicle, there were two men in the narrow passage that led to the door, blocking my way. One was bent forward at the basin, slowly washing his hands; the other was standing directly behind him, leaning against the wall, as though he was waiting to use the basin next, even though there was another one next to it. I hadn't heard them come in.

Not wanting them to hear my foreign accent, I nodded coolly to the man leaning against the wall. He didn't respond. I waited a while longer for the other man to finish washing his hands. But when he eventually did stop, he left the tap running and stood there with his hands on the rim of the basin, watching the water going down the plug hole. Neither of them showed any sign of moving.

'Perdón,' I said, but they didn't look at me. The one at the basin began rinsing his hands again and, from the corner of my eye, I saw him looking at his friend in the mirror.

I had to get to that door. There was no way around them and no other way out of the bathroom. If I hesitated any longer, they would know that I was afraid.

'Perdón,' I said more forcefully, moving forward to squeeze between them, but they stood firm and wouldn't let me pass. I took a step back and waited a few more moments, all the while readying myself in case they attacked.

Finally, the one at the basin stood up and faced me. He had mean eyes and a fresh cut across his forehead. He said something threaten-