Denise Wadsworth Trimm

EARTH ISLANDS a novel

Prologue How Far She Had Come Beth Ann learned her ABCs while sipping ice-cold Coca Cola from green glass bottles and watching I Love Lucy. Her mother was philosophically opposed to sending Beth Ann to kindergarten, insisting that she could teach her daughter all she needed to know. Instead, Claire Lavender educated her only child with supervised television while ironing clothes and dusting the furniture. A is for Applebee, B is for Bob a Lou... Beth Ann recited. She mimicked her mother, ironing her doll dresses on the coffee table with her toy iron, a comical rendition with eyes on each side of iteyes that looked up at her as she pushed it back and forth. She laughed when her mother laughed, whether or not she thought the episode was funny. I could watch Lucy all day, her mother would say. Me, too, Beth Ann echoed. Years later, in the first of many abnormal psychology courses she would complete in order to become a child psychologist, Beth Ann learned about obsessions. Clinically, she understood obsessive people to be prisoners of their own stern conscience, created by a world of shoulds that could never be

achieved to perfection. Personally, she thought obsession to be a futile attempt to fill a spiritual void in ones soul. She had seen it in her mother, and she could recognize it in herself. Her mother was obsessed with Lucy Ricardo because they were so much alike: always scheming, never happy with their position both in society and at home, and always posed for flight like red-feathered cardinals on the edge of a windowsill. Beth Anns obsession with Lucy ended one day in November before her fifth birthday. It was the episode where Lucy dressed up like Harpo Marx and pretended to be his reflection. Her mother was laughing out loud, swearing she couldnt believe how good Lucy was at imitating the clownish character. Beth Ann agreed then poured peanuts into her Coke and tried to read the city and state on the bottom of the bottle without spilling the soda. Say your ABCs, her mother said between laughs. A is for Applebee, B is for Bob a Lou, C is for Copa Cabana, D is for... Above them her father roofed the house. Occasionally she would hear him walk above them, causing her mother to huff and turn up the volume on the television. Through the window, paper fell from the sky, slicing back and forth through the air before landing on the ground. Im listening, her mother said without looking at her. Sometimes Lucys antics caught her mother off guard and the soda spewed from her mouth and nose, making her cry and swear. D, you were on D. D is for... We interrupt this program...

At the time the words meant nothing to Beth Ann. She was still trying to think of a word from I Love Lucy that began with a D. Not Ethyl. Not Fred. Not Mrs. Trumble. Theres a word on the bottom of my bottle that starts with D, Beth Ann said. Shh. Her mother stopped ironing and walked closer to the television. Its a news bulletin. Beth Ann grew anxious not wanting to stop her ABCs, knowing shed have to start over. And what about Lucy? Was she still standing there frozen in front of Harpo until the news was over? The ceiling creaked above them. Her dad was working on the front of the house now. He promised her that later she could swing a magnet from a string and help him pick up the nails. Oh my God, her mother said. Go get your daddy. The Presidents been shot. Beth Ann sped through the house, repeating the message to herself, suddenly aware that P was for President. She ran through the kitchen, pulled open the back door and pushed open the squeaky screen. It was still swinging out when she saw the deer. It had just stepped out of the woods behind their house and stood at the edge of the barn where her father always parked his truck. He was huge and motionless, this deer, frozen like Lucy as if waiting for Beth Ann to imitate it. Its horns appeared heavy like the headdress Lucy wore when she was in the Las Vegas show and had to step down all those stairs without losing her balance.

D is for deer, she whispered, staring into the deers eyes, willing it to come closer. She blinked, and before she could open her eyes again it was gone. She might have believed shed never seen the deer at all were it not for the rustling bushes that swayed behind it as it ran back into the woods. Beth Ann! She glanced back over her shoulder and saw her mother standing in front of the television. The message. She ran now, down the stairs and around the corner of the house, dodging ladders and stacks of shingles, looking up and into the sunlight for her father. Daddy, she yelled. A deer! The President! A shadow covered her, and she could see his image. Wheres your shoes? he asked. Havent I told you not to come out here without your shoes? Its November, for Christs sake, not to mention the nails! But theres a deer, and Momma said the Presidents been shot. What? Her father leaned forward, moving the shadow off of her, causing her to squint and shield her eyes with her hands. What are you trying to say, Beth Ann? In the years that would follow, Beth Ann would dissect then reconstruct the few seconds that elapsed after her father spoke his last eight words, analyzing them and weaving them into some kind of scene from a movie, shown from a helicopters point of view so she could know, once and for all what really happened. There was a scuffling, she remembered for sure, then a ripping sound.

And then his shadow was gone, because she remembered squinting again, unable to see him as he fell. Then, of course, the thud. Her father landed on the butane tank in front of her, his back curling around it like hair on a sponge curler, his eyes wide open as if still curious as to what it was she had to say to him. Could she have moved her legs, she would have run inside to tell her mother that D stood for Daddy. Instead, she stood there finishing her story, telling him about the deer and how he seemed to be trying to tell her something. Within hours there were casseroles and relatives, cards and flowers, sniffles and silence, and television. Hours and hours of television. No one knew how things could get any sadder, losing President Kennedy and Thomas Lavender on the same day. Later, when the neighbors left and Beth Ann felt sick from all the chocolate pie she had eaten, she walked next door to her grandmothers house. Nanna sat in her living room next to a woman Beth Ann recognized to be one of Nannas bridge partners. Her head was in her hands, and the woman patted Nanna on the shoulder. Death comes in threes, Nanna said. First Grady, now my boy. I only pray that God will take me next. Its not your fault, Beth Ann told Nanna. Im the one who made him fall. Im the one who didnt have any shoes on... Nanna held her then, whispering that she must never think it was her fault, promising her that her daddy was in heaven with the angels, and was better off.

But Beth Ann never stopped believing that he wouldnt have fallen had she not run out there in such a frenzy. Had she been wearing shoes, he would not have leaned over to see her feet. She wondered who would be the third to die. I dont want you to be number three, she told Nanna, nuzzling her face in Nannas soft breasts. He was the third, Nanna said. First was your granddaddy, then your daddy, then President Kennedy. Besides, thats just a silly old superstition. But Beth Ann did not believe the dying was over. After all, President Kennedy didnt really count since he was not a member of the Lavender family. And what about the Kennedys? If the President was not one of the three, then did they have to go through two more deaths? Beth Ann sensed that the third loss would be her mother, though she didnt believe she would die. So she watched her closely, noticing that she never once looked at the television while the nation buried its president. She refused everything offered to her and never hugged Beth Ann or told her she didnt blame her for her fathers death. She simply locked herself in her bedroom, coming out only to go to the bathroom or to thank someone for his or her condolences. In the days between the time her father fell and the day he was buried, Beth Ann sat in an invisible middle, watching the Kennedys in the living room, which divided her mothers room from the kitchen, receiving attention only from Nanna who was busy running two households and making funeral arrangements. She watched the black and white screen for hours waiting for a glimpse of Caroline and John-John, hoping to learn how it was that she was supposed to act.

She pretended that she was part of their family, a middle childone who looked more like their mother with her dark hair and eyes. When Jackie Kennedy took her son into her arms, Beth Ann pretended it was Jackie who was her mother and not the woman who now refused to look her in the eyes. So, on that day when her own father was lowered into the ground, Beth Ann saluted him too, just like JohnJohn had standing outside Saint Matthews. Two days after Christmas her mother woke her before dawn to tell her she was going away for a while and wanted Beth Ann to stay with Nanna. Just for now, she said. Until I can find a place for us to live in Mobile. Beth Ann was too sleepy to say anything, and thought it had been a dream when she finally awakened hours later to the smell of bacon and eggs. But Nanna was the one cooking, and her mothers room was empty except for her fathers clothes and fishing gear, which were boxed up and stacked in a corner. Shell be back, Nanna told Beth Ann at the breakfast table. She just needs time to grieve. But Beth Ann knew better. Her mother had gone to be like Lucy. She was probably auditioning for shows at the Copa Cabana or playing cards with a bunch of women, wearing those tapered pants with dresses over them, smoking cigarettes in long stems. Weeks later after all the neighbors had stopped calling and the dishes were returned, Beth Ann moved her belongings next-door to Nannas house. When Beth Ann started the first grade and her mother had called only once to say that she was in Dallas and had met a friend, Nanna took Beth Ann to the Mercantile where they bought all the bed sheets the Mercantile had in stock.

It took them days to cover everything in the old house with the sheets and garbage bags so it would be protected until her mother came back for good. After they covered everything inside, Nanna ordered the electricity to be disconnected and asked a neighbor to board the place up, covering each window and door with plywood and planks. Beth Ann didnt tell Nanna that her mother would never be back, because she didnt want Nanna to think shed be stuck with her forever. When Beth Ann entered junior high school, Nanna put the key to the house on a leather string and placed it around Beth Anns neck. This time Nanna didnt mention her mothers return, but told her that the house would forever belong to Beth Ann. Shortly after Beth Ann turned thirteen, she was sitting on the back porch of Nannas house when she saw the brush sway in a small section of the woods behind the old house. She walked to the edge of the acreage to check it out. The swaying continued, moving deeper and deeper into the thicket. Beth Ann followed it, careful not to step in mole holes or trip over rotten timber. She began to think, as she followed the swaying bushes, that her daddy might not really be dead at all and that the deer was leading her to him. Maybe her mother was with him too, and they were waiting for her in a little cottage like the one Hansel and Gretel found in the story she had insisted Nanna read to her over and over again through the years. Maybe her mother sat in a rocking chair by a fireplace, wearing a black sleeveless dress and a strand of pearls, looking very much like Jackie Kennedy.

And her father would be roofing the house with gingerbread shingles, but protected this time by marshmallow bushes that would cushion his fall. And they would welcome her in, telling her that they loved her, and the family was not complete without her. Then they would give her a brother and name him JohnJohn so she would have someone to play with. Beth Ann ran deeper into the woods, hearing them call her name. When she reached a clearing there was no sign of the deer. All the trees and bushes stood still without even the slightest hint of a breeze. She wondered how far she had come, wondered if she was lost. To the right of her was a mound covered with tall grass and skinny trees. She knew that on the other side of that mound was a reservoir with cold water and a big rock, the place her daddy had always called Indian Springs. A place where she had been told never to go alone. She climbed the mound, grabbing the tree trunks like ladder rungs, digging the toes of her shoes into the mole and rabbit holes, using her knees for balance. The mound was taller than it seemed, raising her far above the trees. She tried not to look down, considering what it would be like to fall, wondering for the first time if her father had been able to think about the fall before he hit the tank. By the time she got to the top, her knees trembled, but she did not stop. She walked to the other side of the mound, wondering why no trees grew on top of it. Her daddy had told her the Indians built the mounds like Baptists built churches, but there were no pews, no altar. She wished her father had told her

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more stories about the mounds, and she wished she had listened better to the ones he had told her. When she finally reached the far side of the mound, she sat down on the edge of it and looked down upon the reservoir. The water was so clear that she could see the rocks, bleached white and gray, in the bottom of the pool. It all looked different from up there, like shed once imagined things might look if she could open up the top of the television and look down into it. She peered through the trees to the roofline of the old house, wondering if she was higher or lower than her father had been when he fell. She cried for what seemed like forever, glad that she didnt have to worry about Nanna hearing her. Knowing that Nanna was sad enough as it was, she had held her tears inside, pinching herself whenever she felt they might erupt, replaying Lucy episodes in her memory so she wouldnt feel so sad. A is for Applebee. B is for Bob A Lou.

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PART ONE: MOUNDS

CHAPTER ONE Since You Asked Nowhere in the town of Moundville, population 1,348, is there one fullblooded Native Americanexcept, of course, the ones buried in the mounds at the archaeological park at the eastern edge of town. That hasnt stopped the town from capitalizing on the dead ones, though. The high school mascot is a Choctaw, even though the Indians in the mounds were prehistoric and were long gone before anybody set out on the Trail of Tears. Lately theres been a movement of sorts, fueled by Merle Parsons (who himself is one feather shy of a headdress) to construct a massive chiefs headdress, made of wood but crafted to look like genuine eagle feathers, and set it on top of the water tank. This idea of Merles is, of course, meeting some mighty heavy opposition. Its become a battle between those who think it would be a good tourism draw, and those who think it would be downright tacky. In the middle of it all is Will Morgan, the mayor. Lots of people think Wills second wife is an Indian, because, one she lived in Arizona for several years working with some of the Indians out there, and two, because she looks like the Indian women you might see on the TV. Shes about as exotic as they get for Moundville. Shes got long, black hair that she braids down her back, and she wears the kind of clothes you cant find in the Mercantileflimsy and beaded, long and flowing, leather and stringy. She also wears turquoise bangles and belts, and a ring on her little toe, which anyone can

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see most of the time, because she has the tendency to go barefoot or wear skimpy sandals. And she runs. Fast, like an Indian should. Every morning, sometimes before its even light outside, shes kicking up dirt and stirring up dust down Nelson Hollow Road with that wolf-looking dog by her side. On top of that, more than one Moundvillian has seen her doing yoga exercises down at the mounds. Some even say she chants incantations at the sun, like shes worshipping it or something. She tried to sneak some of her non-traditional ways into the schoolhouse where shes a counselor. The kids, of course, love that kind of weirdness--just like they love MTV and have taken to wearing their jeans so far down their rear ends that their cracks show. But a parent or two didnt take kindly to what they called the brainwashing of their kids, with candle lighting and meditation. So they complained to the new principal, and he assured them he would talk to her about it. Its not likely theres much he can do, though. After all, Beth Ann is tenured and he is newnot even part of the community. Hes one of those Tuscaloosa fellows who drives the twenty miles in, then drives out without much of a thought to what happens in this town once school is dismissed. Chances are hell be run off long before Beth Ann. After all, shes not only the mayors wife, but shes Rose Lavenders granddaughter, and nobodys going to cross Nanna Lavender. Its not because shes mean or bad in any way; its just that when you

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look up pillar of the community in the dictionary, you see Nannas picture. Shes as much a part of Moundville as the mounds. Theres really no reason not to like Nanna, although many a jealous people have tried. Many of the old timers try to fault her for her daddy, James Tobias Langston, who most agree was the meanest man who ever lived in these parts. He was the only merchant during the Depression who didnt seem to lack for money, so he capitalized on that, encouraging people to buy food and supplies contingent on their land, farms, and houses. Then, of course, when a poor slob couldnt pay up, he seized his land. By the 1940s he owned most of Moundville. After her parents died in the late sixties, though, Rose Lavender gave it all back. Every inch of it. It took her nearly ten years to find everyones descendants, but she did, keeping only her homestead out Havana way, and her late sons place next door, which Beth Ann and her husband Will live in now...along with Wills daughter, Robin, by his first wife, Lana. Nobodys afraid to talk about Lana. In fact shes the butt of a bunch of jokes around town. Lana hasnt been sober in eight or nine yearsever since the accident. People try not to talk about her, with her being so tragic and all, but she just makes it so easy, the way shes always messing up. Its a miracle Will ever got elected with Lana stumbling all over the town, carrying her bad luck around like toilet paper stuck to a shoe, but Will is as lucky as Lana is doomed. Maybe thats why hes still so obliged to her, always getting her out of her messes. Then again, she is the mother of his little girl.

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Robin is the least visible of Moundvilles first family. Nobody knows how she got so ugly, with Will and Lana being so good looking, but she is ugly, bless her heart. Everybodys hoping shell grow out of it, but the odds are growing slim. Shes nearly fourteen now, and theres no sign of things getting better. Everybody smiles at her just the same and tells their children to be nice to herthreatening them with the belt for their unkind comments. She doesnt help matters, though. Every time someone forces their kids to talk to her, the girl drops her head and ignores them. Shes a weird one, that Robin

In most of the movies Robin had seen, convicted criminals were transported to the state pen in a bus much like the one she was riding. She looked at the kids around her. Some were still half asleep, their milk mustaches rimming their half-open mouths. The worst of themalmost always boyswere jumping around grabbing, slapping, and pulling the hair of the whining ones, while the driver (a man older than Nanna for sure), looked back at them all through the thin, wide mirror. That there were no armed guards present to bludgeon the rowdy boys in the mouth with the butts of their rifles, nor were there bars on the outside of the windows, did not mean the destination was basically the same. Her cellmate, Eunice, took up most of their plastic seat. As usual she was reading Stephen King. As usual she was wearing polyester stretch pants that clung to the cellulite of her fat thighs. As usual, Eunice said nothing. She just kept on turning page after page of her book. It was bad enough when popular people shunned her, but Robin considered it scraping the ocean floor when Eunice blew

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her off. She looked out the window and said a prayer that the troublemakers in the back would not notice her. The crusty old bus driver never braked for bumps or potholes, but sped up instead, turning the seats into trampolines. From the tenderness in her breasts, Robin figured her period was about a week away. She wanted to hold both breasts with her hands, mashing them to her chest, but that would be an open invitation for the creeps in the back. Instead, she pressed her notebook closely to her chest, bracing with each ascent. Outside the bus bound for prison called high school, everyone else lived normal lives. The business owners flipped their Open signs over and swept the sidewalks out front. Men dressed like her dad in their khaki pants, starched white shirts and ties, strolled into Miss Melissas Cafe for coffee and gossip. The elementary kids played at the edge of driveways getting dirty while their parents stood in groups talking and nodding. Robin could not help but notice her own reflection in the window. It was like watching the outside world through the flame of her red hair. Her face was so white in comparison to her hair, that it didnt make an impression on the glass. It was as if a blacksmith had taken a fiery red horseshoe and set it upside down on a blotchy gray cloud. Robin took her daily inventory: boobs too big, hair too red, face too cloudy. It wasnt until she was at school and watched the safety arm on the front of the bus sweep back and forth that she remembered shed left her journal at home. Today Coach Wolinsky would take them up in English class, and she would be singled out for not having hers. He wouldnt do it in a mean, hateful

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way, but he would ask her in front of everybody else where it was then theyd all turn around and look at her like she was stupid or ugly, or both. She thought about skipping school altogether, maybe hiding out at the Indian mounds at the park, but she knew Beth Ann would be the first to know. She couldnt get away with anything now that her stepmother worked at the high school. Her days were packed from beginning to end with Beth Ann, the health nut, twig-cooking, question-popping stepmother from hell that everybody else thought was so damn cool. Robin considered calling her father and asking him to drop her journal by on his way to work, but that would mean having to tell him where it wasgiving away her secret hiding place and taking the risk hed read it. That could never happen. The only reason shed written it in the first place was because she knew Coach Wolinsky never read them. A zero today would mean summer school for sure. She held her notebook close to her chest and walked into the musty smelling school hoping the day wouldnt get any worse, but knowing it would.

Because there was a chance that she was pregnant, Beth Ann walked two miles, turning around just past Nelson Hollow Road, rather than running her usual four-mile trek to the mounds and back. It was a long shot, this chance, like the sliver of light from a new moon, but ten days beyond her usual twenty-eight day cycle was legitimate enough reason to at least buy a home pregnancy test. And she would. Only now she wanted to wait until tonight after she had returned home from work, after she had completed another full day without blood. It was not for

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the fetus health that she walked rather than ran, but more for the fear that the jarring might break loose the lining, proving that she had no reason for optimism any more this month than she had the fifty months leading up to this one. It was barely light when she turned the corner of the house and waved to Nanna, who was already dressed in her dungarees and watering her tomato plants next door. Its going to be a scorcher, Nanna said, looking toward the sun with her hand shielding her eyes. And still no sign of rain. Beth Ann nodded and looked up at the sky, then pointed at the back door. Im running late this morning. Nanna waved her on and turned her hose toward the corn, brown with the drought, but still green where it mattered. In the kitchen Beth Ann searched the refrigerator for her bottled water, spotting it finally behind the gallon pitcher of sweet tea. But when she reached to move the pitcher, it was stuck, plastered to the glass shelf with a sugary cement that had formed when someoneeither Will or Robin, but certainly not herself, since it was one of her own pet peevesfailed to wipe the base after pouring a glass. Even as she tugged on the jar, she knew she shouldnt, reasoning that it would be best to loosen its grip with a warm soapy rag, if only she had the time which she didnt. Before she could reconsider, the jar broke loose, her inertia flinging her back and into the counter, tea sloshing all over her, the floor, the counter. Then she was angry with all of themWill and/or Robin for leaving the pitcher in its half-ass condition, herself for using force to save time, only to waste more time cleaning up the aftermath, and now at Koko, her one-hundred pound

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mixed-breed dog, for stepping into the sugary mess and tracking it out of the kitchen onto the hardwood floors. What happened here? Will stood in the doorway tying his tie around his starched white collar, wearing dress socks with no shoes and briefs with no pants. Beth Ann started to tell him, reciting a list of should haves and would haves, tagging names to the offenses as she rattled them off, but she shook her head instead and pulled the paper towels out of the cabinet. Spilled the tea, she said, layering them on the floor. Need some help? He asked, but didnt move toward her, concentrating still on his tie. She shook her head and pooled the tea toward her with the towels. She started to ask him why he wore his briefs rather than the boxers the doctor had suggested, but then let it drop, thinking that if she was pregnant, then the point would be moot. But she would, she decided, perform the rest of the regimen, starting with the herbal supplements before breakfast, capsules filled with sandalwood bark, saw palmetto berries, yohimbe bark, juniper berries, and bearberry. With his one cup of coffee and his eggs, hed take the zinc, the lArginine, and the kelamin, since they travel better with food. Dont forget your doctors appointment this afternoon, she said to him as he walked away toward the bathroom. She had debated in the past few hours whether or not to share with him the fact that she could be pregnant, sparing him yet another humiliating sperm-count appointmentor at least the threat of one, since hed cancelled more than he had met.

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How could I? He called back. You wont let me. When the mess was all mopped up, she walked into the bathroom where Will stood combing his hair in the mirror, pulled down the toilet lid, and sat down. So what do you think? she asked him. Feeling like youve got some sperm working for you? She smiled and tugged on the elastic in his briefs. Maybe, he said, raising his eyebrows at his reflection. Think we should give it another try before I go for the count, just in case all those pills youve been feeding me are actually working? Todays not a fertile day. Beth Ann reached over into the sink, wet a washcloth, and began wiping the sticky tea off her legs. So its come down to that, huh? Making love only to procreate. It works for the rest of the animal population. Yeah, well, theyre not happy about it, I can tell you. Is that right? She smiled at him and rinsed out the rag. He nodded and straightened his tie, then turned toward her with his left hand on the vanity. Thats why elk lock their horns and tigers slash each other. Its all that pent-up energy going to waste. Maybe thats why youre such a good lawyer, being so good at locking horns and all. Makes you aggressive. So Im a good lawyer, basically, because of you. He smiled and put his right hand on his hip. Beth Ann paused and looked up at him, nodded. And a good mayor to boot.

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Well thank you, then. He bent over and kissed her on the top of her head then mussed up her hair. Thank you so very much. You just dont miss your appointment and well call it even. Will rolled his eyes and turned around. At least the elk dont have all the nagging to put up with. She smiled, then started the shower so it would be good and hot when she stepped into it.

With only five minutes left until the end of school, Robin thought she had it made. Wolinsky hadnt said the first thing about journals. Robin counted off the minutes while Wolinsky droned on about whatever short story it was she was supposed to have read the night before. Sitting in the back had its advantages, and she had been able to score a back seat in each of her classes. Most of the time she went unnoticed the whole period. Sometimes, when she managed to get a seat behind a big, fat football player, she slept the entire fifty minutes without the teacher noticing. Now, if she could only get to the bus before anyone else and grab a front seat, away from the goons... If it hadnt been her mothers week for custody, Robin could have ridden home with Beth Ann. Not exactly a thrill in itself, but it beat riding the cheese wagon. Three minutes till the bell. Her classmates started shoving books into backpacks. Wolinsky looked back at the clock and ceased his droning. Robin pulled her purse over her shoulder and set her backpack on the top of her desk.

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Coach Wolinsky? Brandi Coshatt waved her pink fingernails in the airsome Pepto Bismol shade that matched the ridiculous bow on the back of her head. What about our journals? A groan began in the back and moved to the front where Brandi looked around and put that same hand over her stupid mouth. Thanks for reminding me, Brandi. Listen up, people. Leave your journals on my desk as you walk out. The bell rang. Robin hid behind a fat lineman and was just about home free when he stopped to turn in his journal. She eased around him and into the line that was snaking out the door. Robin? She cringed and stopped, causing the line behind her to dodge and dart. Someone stepped on her foot. I dont see yours up here. Coach Wolinsky sifted through the notebooks on his desk while the football player watched her. I accidentally left it at home. Without it youre going to summer school... I know. I did it, but I just forgot it. Monday. Sir? Bring it in first thing Monday, and dont forget. She knew better than to ask him how many points hed count off, because hed be forced to deduct some because Billy was standing there. Teachers were that way. If they did give you a break, you could never tell anybody else. Otherwise there would be no favors for anyone. She was just glad that hed

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accept it late. Wolinsky wasnt like the other coaches. He was tough, and he had just given her the break of her life. Things were picking up. She fumbled with her locker trying to make up for the lost time in Wolinskys room. Her dad had been riding her lately about missing the bus, accusing her of missing it on purpose. He threatened to make her walk to her mothers on those days she stayed with her, but she didnt believe hed actually go through with his threat. It just put stress on him asking Beth Ann to go back and pick her up when she had just left the place herself. Her concentration broken, Robin started over with the combination. She shifted her weight back and forth on her tiptoes, impatient with herself. When the lock finally released, and she slid it from the latch, something shifted inside. It was the slightest of sounds at first, then it rustled. Finally, a tapping against the locker door. Robin looked around. Brandi Coshatt and her cheerleader friend Mitzy stood to the side down the hall. They pretended not to see her, as usual. The sound stopped. Maybe it was a squirrel in the wall on the other side of the locker. They were always getting squirrels in the walls at home. She opened the locker only a little at first, waiting to see if the sound resumed. It did not. The hall clock switched to 3:10. The bus would be loaded by now. Shed have to take a seat in the back, walking past everyone to get there. She opened the door a few more inches, and something flew out at her, fluttering and flapping. She slammed the door shut, screaming and jumping back, falling against the far wall. Brandi and Mitzy laughed, throwing their hands over their

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mouths then hiding their faces behind notebooks with rock stars on them. Robin couldnt move, her heart beating so fast that she thought she might be dying. When the red, red robin comes bop, bop, bopping along... They sang as they passed Robin, stepping over her sprawled legs that would not allow her to stand or to run. Brandi passed off her notebook to Mitzy, then used her free hands to cup her own small breasts and jiggle them up and down, leaning down toward Robin. Bop, bop, bop, she said, raising her thin, plucked eyebrows and leaving behind the sweet smell of strawberry lip gloss. Robin concentrated on breathing, swearing to herself that she would not cry. She blinked through tears at the locker. The door was open and something was on the floor. Voices drifted down the hall. Teachers. She crawled slowly to the locker. On the floor before her was a red-breasted robin, its neck broken from the slamming of the locker door. Before the teachers could see her, Robin scooped the bird up with a piece of loose-leaf paper and gently placed it into her brown lunch bag. By the time she got to the front of the school, the bus had driven away.

The deer were drinking out of the fountain in front of City Hall, again. Beth Ann watched them from the four-way stop at the center of town. The spindly-legged fawns drank without looking up while their mother, a Honovi (strong deer), stood a few yards back, watching for danger. Nobody knew why the deer were venturing out of their environment at this point, but everyone

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assumed the heat had something to do with it. The three-digit temperatures were breaking state records in weekly spans, and a drought was inevitable. To most townspeople the unusual behavior of the deer was a warning of the worst summer in the history of the state. Hale County was known for its prime deer hunting. In the first week of May, Will had been forced to send out flyers, reminding people that under no circumstances were deer to be shot in the summerregardless of whether they ate from gardens, drank from public fountains, or even stood in front of trucks when people were late for work. He reminded people that hunting was a sport, with rigid guidelines, and violators would be prosecuted. But there were always one or two people who thought deer-head mounts and venison in the freezer justified shooting at whatever time the deer made itself available. Beth Ann both loved and feared deer. She loved them for what beautiful and harmless animals they weregraceful vegetarians that took great care for their families. Beautiful as they were, though they were omens for her, warnings of bad luck, warnings of death. She swallowed hard and placed her hand to her stomach, wishing she were still in Arizona. Hania would know exactly what to dowhat herbs to mix, what incense to burn, what measures to take to ward off this Nukpana Catorievil spiritthat came creeping toward Beth Ann just when things were going well. The car behind her honked. She jumped and looked into the rear-view mirror. By the time she looked back toward the deer and her fawn, they had disappeared.

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She tried to get the deer out of her mind as she entered Masons Drug Store, telling herself that the past does not always repeat itself. Fred Mason, the store owner, smiled and waved at her. For a moment she couldnt remember why she had come, and when she did remember, it seemed like a bad idea. Maybe she didnt want to know if she was pregnant just now. A positive answer would be good, but if it were negative... With all the excitement of the deer, shed forgotten to look and make sure Wills Oldsmobile was gone from the City Hall parking lot. He would be submitting a sperm sample by now. Maybe the lab was analyzing it at that moment. Perhaps they had already told him that he could and might have already impregnated his wife. Fred was talking to several older women Beth Ann recognized from Nannas Matrons Club. Their teased and sprayed heads bobbed up and down while they listened to one of Freds long stories. She would have to go to him to get his attention. She was nearly to the end of the aisle when she heard screeching then a crash. Metal and glass. Fred and the women shuffled to the window, shielding their eyes with their hands and pressing their faces to the glass. My God! one of the women said. Who is that? Beth Ann moved toward the window, but before she could get there, the women and Fred turned to face her, and in doing so, they looked down at the floor. What? she asked. They said nothing, but moved away from the glass as if to give her the sight all to herself. The sight, that was of Lanas car perched on top of a lamppost snapped in two. Steam and smoke rose from the car, and people

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gathered from all around. Beth Ann walked out of the store without saying a word. She stopped at the curb, not knowing what to do, wondering if Lana was dead, if the deer had been for her. She pictured her life without Lana, then felt guilty for thinking how peaceful it would be. The police car swerved around the traffic with one short blurt of a siren. It was Henderson. Will liked Henderson, even though no one else in the town did. He would be glad when he heard Henderson was there to help Lana. Jamie Henderson jumped out of his car in the melodramatic fashion Beth Ann hated and immediately began pushing people back toward the fountain. Leave it to Lana to wreck in front of City Hall. The crowd parted, splitting from behind as a man in a white shirt and tie came forward toward the car. Beth Ann stepped down from the curb and walked closer to get a better look, then she glanced at her watch. It was 3:30. It was 3:30, and not only was Will not in Tuscaloosa at the doctors office, but he was now headed toward his ex-wifes automobile accident. Beth Ann stood, frozen in the middle of Main Street. Before Will could run around and open the drivers-side door, Lana forced open the squeaky door and tumbled into the street. Dressed in a glittery gold blouse and a tight knit skirt, Lana looked as close to a hooker as Moundville would ever see. She walked in small circles, stepping out of one of her highheeled shoes, then fell into Wills arms. He lay her on the asphalt with the gentleness Beth Ann had seen him use with Robin when the two of them played touch football in the front yard on Saturday afternoons. Lana did not want to stay

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down, rolling from side to side, reaching for her black satin purse that had fallen just out of her reach. Will touched Lanas forehead, pulling back her teased auburn hair and motioned Henderson toward him with his free hand. Henderson leaned over Lana and nodded just as the ambulance barreled down the road behind Beth Ann. Not knowing whether to move forward or backward, whether to go help Will or jump in her Jeep and speed home, Beth Ann simply stepped to the side as the ambulance passed her. The whole scene was surreal to her, as if she were hovering over some moment from the past. A past of which she was no part and wanted no part of. She heard several faint rings before she realized it was her cellular phone inside her purse. She dug though her bag, her hands shaking. She turned her back to the scene and noticed Fred and the old women in the Mercantile watching her. She turned her back to them too, facing her Jeep. Beth Ann? It was Will. Beth Ann turned to see him, but the ambulance blocked her view. Will? Beth Ann? Honey, Ive got a situation going on. Lanas had an accident. Is she hurt? Beth Ann walked slowly across the street, trying to see Will through the windows of the ambulance. Hard to say. Theyre loading her in the ambulance right now.

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A few more steps brought Lana into Beth Anns sight. She was standing now, swinging her purse at Henderson and screaming obscenities, still hobbling on that one heel. Beth Ann told herself to waittried her hardest to restrain herself but before she could bite her tongue, she blurted out: What about your appointment, Will? What? Your doctors appointment in Tuscaloosa. The one you were supposed to... Well, Ive been more than a little bit busy right here. I couldnt just take off. The paramedics strapped Lana to the stretcher while she continued to kick and struggle. Beth Ann could hear Lanas grumbling through the phone. Once they had her inside, they shut the ambulance door, giving Beth Ann a clear view of Will standing there with the cell phone to his ear and Lanas makeup and blood on the white shirt Beth Ann ironed for him that morning. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and his left hand was on his hip. His blondish gray hair clung to his tanned forehead. He looked like he had two summers before when he ran his Mayoral campaign. Will Morgan was a man that could handle things in a pinch. Everything, Beth Ann thought, except for going to a fertility doctor to get a sperm count. Will motioned for the paramedics to wait. Well have to talk about all that later. They want me to follow them to the hospital. Shell need a ride if shes released.

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Beth Ann started to speak, but she didnt know what to say. Instead, she walked back across the street toward her Jeep. Oh, I almost forgot, he said. My secretary said Robins been calling my office. She missed the bus, again. If you could pick her up and take her to our house, Id really appreciate it. She punched off the phone, slammed it in her purse, and jumped into her Jeep. Will was still looking at his phone and shaking it as if it were broken when Beth Ann spun off, headed back to the high school.

The longer Robin sat there, the madder she got. Forty-five minutes shed waited for someone, anyone, to pick her up. Shed used up all her quarters leaving messages with her dads secretary, her mothers machine, and when Beth Anns cell phone was busy; she left a message on her voice mail. Three parents living and working not even five miles from the school and not one of them had attempted to pick her up. By the time Beth Ann squealed into the parking lot, Robin was ready to let her have it. Its about time, Robin said, stepping up into the Jeep. Wheres everybody been? She placed the lunch bag in the floor so Beth Ann would not notice it and ask her why she hadnt eaten her lunch. Why did you miss the bus? Beth Ann did not look at her, and ground the gears like she was just learning how to drive a stick. Coach Wolinsky kept me after class...asking me about Daddys plans for this stupid town. The hour wait had given her more than enough time to come

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up with excuses. This had been her best. I told him I had to go, but he just kept on talking. Beth Ann turned west on Highway 69. Wait a minute, Robin said. Youre going the wrong way. Its mothers weekend. Youre staying with us tonight. Why? Beth Ann looked at her in that way she always did when there was something she had to tell her that shed rather her father handle. Wheres Mother? Beth Ann slowed the Jeep and pulled it into the football stadium parking lot. Robin watched her as she turned off the ignition and turned to face her. Your Moms had a wreck. Shes probably going to be fine, but your Dads gone to the hospital with her to make sure. Robin looked down. Her heart was pounding her shirt up and down. Her face burned. She thought of the bird in the bag, wondering if its heart was still beating, if its body was still warm. Would her mother die this time? Was this the wreck that would finally end it all? She imagined her mother in the casket, her hair all in place, still wearing the wedding band her father gave her, although it was now too tight. Most nights she used soap to take it off, only to twist it back on the next morning. Shed want to be buried in her yellow suit, since it was the one that made her look thinner and younger. Ill turn around and take you to the hospital right now if you want me to, Beth Ann said, slipping into her counselor mode. Robin wished it was she,

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herself, being rushed off to a hospital, having people worry about her. She imagined everybody driving fast, wanting to be there to hear her last words, wanting to tell her that they were sorry for mistreating her, ignoring her, making her wait nearly an hour for a ride. Shed want her casket closed, though. No amount of makeup or hair teasing could make her look the way she ought to look, dying so young. Do I turn around or not? No, Robin said. Ive got things to do. Okay. Beth Ann nodded and drove the Jeep back onto the road. Robin looked out the window as everything flew by her in a blur. Beth Ann was pissed, she could tell. That probably meant shed leave Robin alone, not try to keep her talking or hanging around her. That meant shed be free to slip away and bury the bird. She knew the perfect placejust behind the garage where no one would see her do it. Then, after she had picked at whatever crap Beth Ann cooked, shed sneak away to her room and write in her journalnot the one Wolinsky wanted, but the other one. The real one. The whole rotten day had given her inspiration for Way #17. She leaned back and imagined herself sitting in her room with the candlelight waving on her ceiling like a hula dancers skirt. She imagined what it would be like to die in a fire, wondered how long it would hurt before she lost consciousness and turned into ashes. And how could she be sure she would die and not just burn to the point that shed have to stay in the hospital wrapped like a mummy and look like a freak for the rest of her life? Maybe she and her mother would share a room

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there. Maybe her mother had tried to kill herself today. Maybe theyd both be better off dead.

CHAPTER TWO Havana Nanna and her clan live on County Road 37 in the community of Havana. When most locals say Havana, they place more emphasis on the Hav part of the word and add an R making it sound something like Have Anner. Calling it a community is being a little generous, since most of Havana is made up of two families in three houses. Nanna lives in her own house, while Beth Ann, Will, and Robin live in the other one. Miss Rachel LeFoy and her retarded son, whos a bastard, occupy the house on the other side of Beth Ann. Nobody knows for sure who his daddy was or is, but Miss Rachels never made a point of hunting him down, whoever he is. Tommy, the retard, has to be pretty near thirty by now, though its pushing it to say he acts like a five year-old. Miss Rachel has to do most everything for the boy, from feeding him to bathing him and so on. Even folks who gave her misery through the years about being so immoral, having the child out of wedlock and all that garbage, have to admit that Miss Rachel has paid for her sin.

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Nowadays people mostly let her be, bringing their clothes to her for washing, ironing, or mending. Many of the towns girls go to Rachel to have her make their wedding dresses when that time comes. Its hard to believe that something so pretty and so white would come out of that old house she and Tommy live in. Many a girls have balked for that very reason, then end up changing their mind once they see a friends dress. She may have never worn one herself, but Rachel can make the prettiest wedding dresses this side of Atlanta. A while back folks got to wondering how Rachel managed with Tommy now that he was getting so big, so several of the deacons down at the Baptist church offered their services, volunteering to help Rachel whenever she needed some muscle. In the nicest way she could, she proceeded to tell them that shed managed all those years before, and she reckoned shed manage still. Shes a prideful woman, that Rachel LeFoy.

When Beau agreed to barter his handyman services for room and board with his Aunt Rachel in Alabama, he never imagined the trip would be so grueling. When he left Louisiana, the early morning temperature was sixty-eight degrees. Now that he was in Alabama, the bank signs flashed ninety-eight. One hundred in Tuscaloosa. His air conditioner broke down outside Hattiesburg, Mississippi, forcing him to peel back his convertible top just to breathe. It was a wet heat, the kind that made him want to take a second shower only minutes after the first. The local disc jockeys from town to town groaned about the drought, but Beau hoped the rain would stay away. There was nothing more miserable

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than being smothered in an airless car while steam from the road seeped into the vehicle, fogging the windows. Beau rummaged behind the passenger seat with his right hand without taking his eyes off the road, opened the cooler, and swished his hand in it hoping to find an unopened beer. There was one can left from the six-pack hed dropped in ice hours ago. He popped the top and drank the Budweiser in one long gulp then opened the brown paper bag his father had packed for him that morning. Without looking inside, Beau knew there would be bologna sandwiches and corn chips. It was the food his family always took when they traveled, only now he was thirty-two, and there hadnt been a family vacation since his mother died. He exited onto Highway 69, a straight blacktop that sloped slightly up hill into the lowering May sun. He ate his sandwich slowly. Within miles of Moundville, it was the turquoise water tank Beau saw first. The name of the town wrapped around the tank in large, faded letters. He could make out the ville portion. An H was painted at the bottom of the tank, an L at the top. A red ball-looking gauge rested on the L. Beau assumed from the disc jockeys whining that the gauge indicated Low water supply. He shifted his 64 Mustang to a coast when he crossed the Moundville town limits, seeing the uniformed officer parked beside a 25-MPH sign. The officer rested a radar gun on the rolled-down cruiser window. Even coasting Beaus speedometer hovered around 40 MPH. He lifted his two fingers off the wheel in a howdy up salutethe understood mannerism for small-town driversthen drove beneath what appeared to be the towns only traffic light. He

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turned right, knowing that if he kept turning there was a chance the officer might not bother pursuing him. The empty beer cans in the floorboard rattled together. He watched the cans with his peripheral vision, willing them to slide back under the passenger seat, wondering without looking, if he had an extra towel in the back seat that he could toss over them in that millisecond the officer would take his eyes off the car to open his door. A DUI conviction at this point would ruin all Beaus plans. He stopped for the intersection at the corner of Highway 69 and Main Street where the Methodist and Baptist churches faced each other from opposite sides of the road. He read the Baptist Church sign: Think its hot now? Dont try dying without Jesus. He turned left. He found himself at the entrance of the Moundville Archaeological Park. Hed been there before, though he couldnt remember much about it. His mother had insisted once, while they were visiting Aunt Rachel, that Beau see the park. It was, after all, educational. Sixth graders from all over the state of Alabama went there, she told Beaus father when hed grumbled about lost time, then refused to get out of the car while Beau and she climbed the stairs of the mound that led to the temple. Beau slowed when he neared the temple mound. He thought there had been hundreds of stairs back then, his mother huffing and stopping periodically to bend over and catch her breath. Even then she was sick. Were it not so hot, he would have climbed them again, counting the stairs, comparing his own health to his mothers, who would have been only a few years older than he was now.

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He checked his rear-view mirror. No cop. Past the temple mound the park road turned and weaved through several other mounds, all large with flattened tops, though none as large as the temple mound. At the edge of the park he heard the rush of water, then spotted a row of picnic tables with large aluminum garbage cans. He parked the car and gathered the empty beer cans into the lunch bag and headed for the tables. He felt pretty proud of himself, realizing hed been able to shove the bag of empties into the garbage can, noticed only by the yellow jackets that swarmed around the lid. According to the directions Rachel sent, he was only a few miles from her house, but Beau was not ready to be there. Hed always been shy around peopleespecially kinfolks he only saw every once in a while at ten-year reunions or in that brief time before and after the funeral of a family member. Now he was going to live with one. Make that two. He always forgot about Tommy, the one the other family members called afflicted, no one ever confirming what that affliction was. The furthermost picnic table was on a ledge overlooking the Black Warrior River. A massive tree grew sideways from the ledge, half of its roots exposed to the air. A jagged row of barbed wire, nailed into the earth with metal stakes lined the ledge and extended around the rest of the embankment. A sign, nailed to the once-upright tree, lay flat and unreadable. Probably a warning not to stand where he was standing now, Beau thought. He looked down through the wire at the river below him.

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The land beneath was carved out, the bend of the river slicing it out as if with a large knife. He stood on a cliff some thirty feet above the river, extended over it like the coyote in the cartoons. At the waters edge a large slab of concrete lay broken in several piecesa former picnic table. He stepped gently back to the solid ground, then walked swiftly to his car. The parks exit wound him through a wooded area between two lily padcovered ponds then dumped him right back onto Highway 69-directly in front of the police who still held the radar gun. Beau did not look at the cop, but turned back onto the highway toward town. Fanning himself with a Wal-Mart atlas he had bought in Baton Rouge, he wanted to speed upneeded the breeze to cool himbut the cruiser grew larger and larger in his rear-view mirror. By now the officer would have radioed in Beaus out-of-state license number and was waiting for a report from the dispatcher. He drove slowly, careful to obey the laws without looking back, an admission of guilt. He turned onto Main Street as Rachel had directed him. Tall ornamental lampposts, topped with frosted globes, alternated with dogwoods along the side of the narrow street. The cop stayed two cars length behind him. Not turning on his lights. Just following him. Beau gripped the steering wheel too tightly, then tried to relax the white knuckles. At the five-way stop, two other cars sat motionless. The passengers were looking at the opposite corner of the intersection where a small group of people stood with their backs to the cars. He edged the car forward in an attempt to gain the other drivers attention, but they did not notice. He followed their gaze and

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craned his neck. Had a pedestrian been struck? Had an old lady passed out from heat exhaustion? Whatever it was, it wasnt his problem. It was no longer his job to check out suspicious scenes. That was the Bozos job behind him. Beau checked the mirror. The cop was on the radio. The drivers were still staring at the scene. The standstill was killing him. If he proceeded out of turn, the cop would have his excuse. If he didnt, hed roast alive in the heat. He was going. Just as he let off the brake and pressed the clutch, the police car swooped around Beau, passing on the left, and drove through the center of the intersection, screeching to a stop at the scene. The people stepped back, revealing a vehicular accident. A white 90 Chevy Cavalier had crashed into one of the lampposts. Beau inched forward and parked in front of the Moundville Mercantile. He took a brush and an elastic band from the glove compartment and brushed his long hair, sweaty and tangled from the drive, into a smooth ponytail. He watched the cop through the rear-view mirror as he backed people away from the one-vehicle accident. Probably a woman. Statistics backed up what traffic cops already knew. Women were easily distracted when driving. Only drunks and women had wrecks with trees, poles, and curbs. The middle-aged woman who stumbled from the car appeared to be both. A teenage boy exited the store pushing an upright cart full of brown paper bags, then waited for an elderly woman to find her keys in her boxy purse. Beaus car door moaned when he opened it. He limped when he first began walking, his legs stiff from the drive. The asphalt was pliable, nearly spongy, and caved in with his boot heels. He slapped the dust from his jeans, then peeled his

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thin cotton shirt from his chest, fanning it up and down allowing little pockets of air to enter his shirt every time he lifted, then released it. The police officer Beau had attempted to dodge was struggling with the woman who resisted, making her legs straight, rigid. Beau looked at his watch. Intoxicated at 3:45. He and the woman had something in common. Speaking of which, he needed more beer. Beau turned to go inside, but the collective sigh of the crowd made him stop and turn around. Somehow in the struggle, the cop had been knocked to his ass. The woman swung her purse defiantly over the cops head. Ole Hendersons pissed now. The teenage boy who had been loading the groceries now stood next to Beau. Got that uniform dirty that his momma done cleaned and pressed for him. The boy laughed, then nodded at Beau before going back into the store. The Moundville Mercantile was small with narrow aisles and crowded shelves. Beau went all the way to the back, past the food and into the refrigerated section. Two women stood in front of the beer glass doors, behind which was the beer. Thank God it wasnt a dry county. They stopped talking when he was halfway down the aisle. The women were young but had that broken-down look that Beau recognized from so many small-town women. Their out-of-style hair, their dated clothes, their crooked teeth, their faces tired and pale. They stood silent, staring at Beau. Excuse me, Ladies, he said, stepping between them and grabbing an eighteen-count case of Budweiser. They nodded but said nothing. Just stared. No doubt, they were wondering who he was. It was the same in Vacherie when a

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new person or a tourist (seeking directions to one of the historic homes) drove into his fathers garage. Everyone from his father to the cashier in the office stopped and stared as if the persons origin was written on the strangers back, like the bottling plant on the bottom of an old Coke bottle. Beau wished he had written something clever on his own back just to get a rise out of the women. The teenage boy and a man with a soiled apron stood staring out the front window. A woman with long fingernails stood behind the register. A carton of Winstons, please, Beau told her. She looked at him for a moment, then smiled, reaching above her head and pulling the carton from the shelf that hung between them. She punched the register keys with her knuckles. Shes been drinking all right, the aproned man said. From the looks of her, shes probably just now finding her way home after a wild night in Tuscaloosa. The woman knows how to party, the teenager said. Come sack these things, the cashier told the teenager. He was smiling when he turned around. Hey, Alice. Did Lana call here last night wanting Jeremy here to deliver her some...groceries? The man laughed, then punched the teenagers arm. Like I said, the teenager said, the woman knows some things. The cashier watched Beau. Cut it out, she said. Both of you. You got to ignore them, she said to Beau. Neither of them got any sense. Beau gave the woman a twenty. She held it for a moment, not taking her eyes off him, then turned her attention back to the register. Here you go, Hon, she said, her nails

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scraping Beaus palm as she gave him his change. You come back. Beau nodded and took the bag from the teenager. Yeah, the aproned man said, you come back. Beau paused at the door when he saw the cop, Henderson, at his Mustang, looking down into the front seat. The wreck was cleared away except for the Chevy that still sat on top of the broken post. So he was bored now, needed to do a little detective work while the adrenaline was still pumping. By the time Beau reached the car, Henderson had walked around to the back of the car and was copying down the tag number, his foot on the rear bumper. Beau stood just feet away, waiting to be noticed. Henderson looked up with a start. Can I help you? Beau asked, shifting the bag to his other arm. This your car? Yep. Beau looked at Hendersons boot. From Louisiana, Huh? He took his foot from the bumper. Thats right. Visiting or passing through? Neither. Beau walked to the side of the car and dropped his sack into the back seat. Maybe it was seeing Henderson flat on his ass with a woman swinging a purse at him that made Beau realize Henderson was nothing to fear. Besides, Henderson had nothing on him. Henderson walked around to stand in front of him. He was a good four inches shorter than Beau--about five feet eight. And smaller too, not much muscular build. Probably hadnt seen a weight room since the Academy. He had

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a pockmarked face that was as red as if he had just shaved with cold water and a dull razor. In order to make eye contact with Beau, Henderson had to look up and into the late afternoon sunlight. He squinted and twisted his face. Beau figured he could take a step to the left and shade Henderson from the sun, but he liked the advantage. Instead, he stood still, observing Hendersons face and the erasersized hairy mole just below his left ear. You were going kind of fast when you first drove into town. That a ticket? Beau nodded at the pad Henderson held down at his side. No. So Im free to go? Beau plopped down into his seat and placed the key in the ignition. It was a game now. Henderson had no open containers, no probable cause, and apparently no desire to ticket him. And when he called his tag number in, Henderson would discover that he was messing with a New Orleans cop. For now, Henderson said. But remember this aint no dragway. Ill try to keep that in mind. Beau backed out and drove away without a glance at Henderson.

Two miles down Highway 69, Beau veered onto the dirt road marked County Road 37 that, according to Aunt Rachel, was the community of Havana. A round, orange sign on the side of the road read DeSotos Trail. One thing was certain, Beau thought: if it had been this hot when DeSoto discovered this land, it was no wonder he moved on westward, leaving it for the Indians. As for the

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Indians, the Trail of Tears may have been more an expression of joy than of sadness. He slowed the Mustang when he reached the old, one-room church on the right. He held the directions Rachel sent him in his steering hand while downshifting with the other. His head cocked from side to side, reading the letter that moved with the wheel. It was nearly impossible to pinpoint the directions since they were meshed into historical rhetoric and specific details. You will come to a church. The Havana United Methodist Church, built in 1842. The famous Julia Tutwiler is buried there in the graveyard. Just a little bit down the road is a historical marker, honoring her father Dr. Henry Tutwiler, the educator. You will know you are close when you see this marker, which is green... Just past the clearing on the right side of the road stood three houses, divided only by gravel driveways. The first house is Mrs. Rose Lavenders home. Next to that one is her granddaughter Beth Ann, who lives with her husband Will, the towns mayor. Do you remember Nanna and Beth Ann? I know its been a great many years since youve been to Havana... Twenty years. It had been exactly twenty years since hed been in Havana, and that had been to bury his mother. It had been hard enough losing her a little every day, the cancer eating her in small bites, but to bury her and leave her so far from home was unbearable. Its what she wanted, his father repeated nearly fifteen times on the drive from Louisiana to Alabama. She wanted to go home. Beau wanted to ask what it was they had been living in for the past ten years if it was not home.

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They spent a week in Havana, eating casseroles and standing on display for people who dropped by with long faces and more food. He did remember Beth Ann. He had watched her from the tire swing in Aunt Rachels back yard as she ran into and out of Nannas house, always in a hurry. She was a teenager then, dating a senior who drove a fancy, yellow GTO, wore a lettermans jacket, and walked with a strut. Beaus female cousins went on and on about how lucky Beth Ann was to have such a groovy guy. They smiled and waved at the guy every time he drove up for Beth Ann, making fools of themselves. Beth Ann never seemed fazed by them, or anything for that matter. Hed never seen a girl so comfortable in her skin. He had liked that about her. He hardly recognized Rachels house. Red top bushes, taller than the front-porch roof, parted and draped beneath their own weight. Gray shingles lay scattered along the ground like dandruff. He turned right into the graveled driveway shared by the Morgans and myself. The houses paint had long since peeled away, exposing splintered boards. A tarpaulin was draped across the roof, secured by several bricks. Drain pipes hung loosely from the corners of the house, gutters torn down--still full of leaves. The driveway split behind the houses, divided by the tremendous sycamore that shaded the back yards. The tire swing was gone. The left side of the drive led to a crisp white barn; the right (Rachels side) wound to a shanty surrounded by old tires and rusted buckets. The farmland that once yielded acres of corn was now wooded with scrawny trees and kudzu vines. A yellow 1973 Oldsmobile Delta 88 sat in the backyard like a pumpkin in wheat,

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weeds growing underneath and around it. The grass had not been cut since last summer, the heat and drought flattening it like in the pictures he had seen of those mysterious designs in tall-grass fieldsthe ones supposedly made by UFOs. It was hard to believe the house was inhabited. He was embarrassed for Rachel and for Tommy. When his father had suggested the barter, Beau thought the chores would be more maintenance and less restoration. He wasnt sure he was up for the challenge. Hell, he wasnt sure he belonged in law school, for that matter. He sat there a minute, not wanting to get out of the car. Then again, when had he ever been sure about anything? He let off the gas and let the engine die, then reached for another beer. Rachel stepped out onto the back porch. He watched her through the mirror. Much older than he imagined, but unmistakably his fathers sister, she waved to him. He thought she might come down the stairs and greet him, but when she did not, he stepped from the car and walked to the porch. The handrail lay beside the porch on the ground. Project number one, he supposed. Beau? she asked. She looked down at him from the stairs. Yes Maam, he said, resting his hands on his hips and looking up at her. Beau LeFoy... She asked more than stated, craning her neck to see his ponytail. You look so different... Its been a long time. Yes... she said. Rachel made no effort to move or open the door, but stood steady, staring at Beau then looking back at the car as if to check his license plate. Her hands were wrinkled and spotted, and she held one in the other as she

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spoke. She wore a striped dress, probably homemade since she was a seamstress. Her apron was soiled and wrinkled, her hair pulled back into a bun, though many strands were plastered to her neck with sweat. She had his fathers deep-set eyes that looked hooded by the eyebrows and dark underneath. Beau dug at the dirt with his boot heel, tried to smile. Well, you might as well come in, she finally said. The screen door opened and slammed behind her before Beau could climb the stairs. It was hardly the welcome hed imagined, though he hadnt really known what to expect. After all, why should this woman take him into her arms and welcome him? She barely knew him. Beau stepped into the kitchen and slipped back nearly forty years. The kitchen cabinets were metal, the paint peeling off them like dead skin off a sunburned back. And they were locked with chains and pad locks. I have to lock them, Rachel said. Tommy nearly...He mistook rat poisoning for candy. Beau nodded and followed Rachel to the center of the floor where it sloped, then bucked. The kitchen was clean enough and the curtains were neat and pressed, but the room had a hollow feeling, as if it might echo if Rachel spoke loudly and frequently enough. Ill fix three meals every day as usual. You can show up for them if you want, or you can fend for yourself. Your choice. Beau nodded. The refrigerator was not padlocked. Theres a little refrigerator in the shed. You can pull it out and keep it in your room if you like. Rachel looked out the window toward Beaus car. If

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youre going to drink alcohol, Id rather you keep it out of this refrigerator. All we need is for Tommy to...Hes never been around anyone who drank. Ill make sure I drink in private, Beau said, watching the toe of his boots. Rachel nodded and pushed open the swinging door that led to the dining room where there was no table, no chairs. Instead, stacks of boxes filled with bright plastic toys surrounded a large exercise mat in the center of the floor. Tommys playroom, Rachel said, her voice echoing off the dingy walls. Where is he now? In his room. He had an episode earlier, so hes waiting it out in his room. Rachel opened the French doors that led to the living room where an old floral sofa with foam poking through the tears and a small television on a plastic stand sat in the center. You can have the whole front of the house, she gestured, the front bedroom and the living room. She walked to the front door and opened it. The light invaded the room, highlighting dust and paint flecks as they drifted to the splintery hardwood floor. And of course the front porch, if youd like to go there. Your bedrooms right here. Rachel stood just outside the bedroom door and gestured for him to go in. The room looked like a nuns room, the single bed shoved against a blank wall except for a crucifix nailed only two feet above the headboard. A small dresser sat on the other side of the room next to a pea-green hospital cabinet. On the cabinet a small lamp with a dingy shade sat next to a

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worn Bible. The sheers on the window filtered the light, but here there was no dust. She had cleaned for him. Im afraid the bathroom is in the back of the house, she said. For a moment he thought she might mean an outhouse, but she pointed down a long, dark hall. She flipped on a pale overhead light, then walked down the hall. You have to pass both our bedrooms to get to the facilities, so youll want to be decent. She stopped at the first door on the left. Tommys room, she said. Im not going to need all that much help with him. Just when hes having an episode. Ive handled him fine all these years, but now hes so big... Some time back Beaus father had mentioned a black eye Tommy gave Rachel when she was trying to restrain him. He called him the boy, never acknowledging Tommys name, never discussing his affliction. Typical fashion for his dadif its unpleasant, dont talk about it. Thats why theyd never discussed Beaus mothers death, why so little was said after she died, why Beau didnt know how to talk to people. Why all he could do now was nod at Rachel and smile when it seemed proper to do so. Weve got company, Rachel said, pushing open Tommys door. Tommy sat on the far side of the bed closest to the window with his back to them. He made no movement as they entered the room. Rachel picked up clothes around the bed while talking to Tommy. Remember me telling you about Beau? Your cousin from Louisiana whos going to be living with us? Her voice sounded much softer than when shed spoken to

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Beau. Tommy did not respond. Rachel motioned to Beau to come to the other side of the bed. Hello, Tommy, Beau said. Tommy rocked back and forth, then stood up suddenly. Beau took a step back, Rachels black eye still on his mind. Tommy walked to the window and looked out it, rocking where he stood. Nah, Nah, Nah, he mumbled, bumping his head gently against the glass. I guess nows not a good time, Rachel said. She walked to Tommy and stood behind him. He was a good five inches taller and forty pounds heavier than she. It was an odd picture, unnatural. Hes still mad at me from this afternoon. She tousled the hair on Tommys head until he jerked away and moved to the corner of the room where he stood, facing the wall. Beau followed Rachel back into the hall. Its not always like this, she said. He could hardly see her face through the shadows of the hall, but he could hear the sadness in her voice. Some days hes almost normal. She stood there for a second longer, obviously wanting Beau to say something, but he didnt know what. He wished he had a card to read from, some pre-planned statement, a memorized reply. Well, then. Can I help you unload your car? she asked. Thats okay. Ill take care of that later. Ill just tend to dinner, she said. Ill call you when its ready. Thank you. Rachel nodded, then stepped through the door and out of the hall.

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Beau paused at Tommys door. He was back at the window, leaning his body sideways against the glass, straining to see something. Beau wanted to investigate, so he walked in. Not wanting to startle Tommy, Beau whistled as he approached him. Tommy did not move. There was someone out there. A girl. A red-haired girl digging up the ground and putting something into the hole. She had a small, flat box next to her, and when she raised up to pull her hair from her face, it looked as if she were crying. Wobin, Tommy said. Dat Wobin.

Robin had no trouble keeping Beth Ann off her back. Shed only been slightly interested when they saw the red Mustang next door at Miss Rachels house. And when Robin asked who she thought it was, visiting Rachel and Tommy all the way from Louisiana, Beth Ann just sighed and mumbled something about relatives in Vacherie. After that, she had disappeared into her bedroom. Beth Ann always got that way when her father had to take care of her mother, but they always made up, would end up kissing and dancing to some 80s song about broken wings. Their song, they called it. It was easy borrowing Nannas garden trowel, since she kept it with all her other gardening tools, her hat, and apron on the back porch. Today was Thursday, her volunteer day down at the Cherokee Hills Convalescent Home. Here she was old enough to be in a home herself, but she was their volunteer, writing letters, playing bingo, and always referring to them as the old folks down at the home. Robin took the trowel out of Nannas apron.

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She paused at the stairs behind the house and looked inside the screen door to make sure Beth Ann hadnt started supper yet. When she saw all was clear, she pulled the loose concrete cinder block from the foundation of the house and set it aside. Leaning down, she reached into the open area under the house and pulled out the black garbage bag. She replaced the cinder block and looked around. The coast was clear. She lived in two houses, yet had no real place other than here, underneath the house to call her own. Both houses were temporary, one week here and one week there, with the bedrooms feeling like hotel rooms. Her clothes always packed in a suitcase, she never had the right belt where the right pants were, never had the matching shirt where the shorts were. Never had any privacy. Her mother snooped for information: What had the three of them done that weekend? What kind of trinkets had she come home with? And Beth Ann was a cleaning machinethrowing away important papers, hanging dirty clothes on hangers and washing clean ones. Robin took the garbage bag behind the barn. She didnt know why it felt so important for her to bury the bird. Guilt she guessed, for having killed it. Shed never personally killed anything before, though that didnt mean she hadnt felt responsible for at least one death. The ground was hard and dusty, sliding right back into the hole as she dug it out. The harder she dug, she angrier she got, the tears stinging her face and plopping onto the dry dirt leaving soft red dots. Why were they so mean to her? Didnt they know shed give anything to be like them? To be popular. To have boys look at her not because she had big

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freaky boobs, but because they looked into her face and liked what they saw. To have a room of her own with posters and dance tickets and closets and drawers that had years of stuff piled into them. To go home to both parents every day, knowing that they loved her as much as they loved each other... When the hole was deep enough to hold the bird, Robin unwrapped the paper and gently lowered the robin onto it, its head looking back at her from a twisted neck. She pulled a feather from its wing and held it up, running her finger along the edges and crying. The bird had done nothing wrong, yet it suffered all the same. She covered the hole and said a prayer, asking forgiveness and praying that if birds had souls, his was safe. There was a hymn Nanna sang about Gods eyes being on the sparrow. Robin hoped God was not mad at her, and her mother wasnt dead. She covered the hole back up with dirt and hoped Koko, Beth Anns mutt, wouldnt dig it up. She slid around and leaned against the barn, the cigar box in her lap. She pulled out the boxs contents one by one. First a picture. It was of the three of them: her father, her mother, and herself taken at Disney World when she was four. She was still cute then, and people always stopped to take a look at the smiling girl with the red ringlets and the precious freckles across her nose. Her father was strong and handsome, his hair a lighter blonde and his smile broad and confident, his shirtsleeve bulging with muscles from holding up his daughter for the picture. On his other arm her mother held on to him, her fingers pressing into his flesh, as if she knew what was to come and would not let go of him without being dragged away.

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Her mother was the pretty type of redhead, the kind with auburn hair instead of bright red and skin that, though fair, did not freckle or burn easily. She had the look that attracted men rather than repulsing them. She laid the picture aside. The bracelet was a string of pink plastic hearts. The elastic was stretched, yet no longer fit her wrist. She held it in her hand and kissed it, making a wish. She laid it on top of the picture, then took out the yellowed newspaper clipping. The creases were beginning to tear from being folded and unfolded so many times. The headline was clear, though, as was the picture of the seven year-old with her long blonde hair draping way past her shoulders, her front tooth missing from falling into the corner of a coffee table while singing Rudolph the RedNosed Reindeer. Moundville Second Grader Killed in Accident... Robin read the clipping slowly, even though she could quote each word from memory. The last item in the box was a dried rose, frozen forever into a bud. It was all that was left of the corsage Beth Ann had bought for Robin to wear in her and her fathers wedding. The babys breath had long since crumbled and lay scattered in the bottom of the box. Robin sniffed it, but it no longer smelled good. She scattered the babys breath over the grave, then replaced each item back in the box, stuffing it with tissue for protection, and adding the feather to the collection.

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CHAPTER THREE Little Deaths Theres no doubt in anybodys mind that Lana Morgan never meant to kill that little girl. And although it hasnt been proven, nobody thinks she was drinking then. It wasnt until after the accident that she began to hit the bottle full time. Will and Lana were good friends with the Thompsons. They all played cards together, went to movies together, ate out together most every weekend. Little Katie was like a second child to them. Maybe thats why Lana took it so hard. The Thompsons moved to Florida after Katie died, and word is that although its been seven years and the Thompsons have two other kids now, theyve never called or come back once since they left Moundville. Lana not only had the little girls death on her conscience, but she also lost her best, and maybe her only friends.

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Although the details have always been sketchy, Hendersons account of that day is that they were all in a hurryLana, Robin, and Katieto get to a birthday party for one of the girls classmates. Apparently in all the rush to get in the car and get going, Katie somehow slipped under the wheels of the car. Lana never knew a thing until she ran over the little girl, who was DOA at Tuscaloosa General. Internal injuries. People say that on that night, Lana chased the tranquilizers the doctor gave her with vodka. Will stayed with her two years after that, trying everything to get her help, dragging her to every shrink this side of Atlanta, and making every excuse in the book when shed embarrass them in front of the town and Wills clients alike. It wasnt until four years ago that he finally figured out that you cant help someone if they dont want it. Everybody was happy for Will when he married Beth Ann, although most of us held our breath wondering what Lana would do about it. Nobody was surprised when she upped her dose of the daily sauce and started bringing home every kind of strange man alive. If theres a man in town that no one knew, odds were he was with Lana. Lanas still got a job at the bank, where shes worked most of her life, but she got demoted from head teller. Fact is, shed be long gone if Kurt Bledsoles daddy didnt own it. Kurt is Wills law partner and old college buddy. Theyve got a system worked out, Kurt and Will. Whenever Lana screws up, Kurts wife (who also works at the bank) calls Will. If Will cant get there right away, he sends Henderson. Between Henderson and Will, theyre able to get Lana squared

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away before Old Man Bledsole gets word. Its hard to believe the old man doesnt know about all the goings on right under his nose, but if hes on to them, he doesnt let on about it. Hes probably just like the rest of Moundville. He doesnt know who to feel sorrier for.

It was the rocking horse Beth Ann wanted, but she would settle for the footstool if she could get it. She flipped through the Sothebys catalog as she had dozens of times since she paid the initial ninety dollars for it. Adhesive stickers flagged sections throughout the book, but she always came back to the rocking horse and the footstool. She had nearly twenty thousand dollars of guilt money in her savings account. She called it that because it was the money her mother had sent her over the years, money shed married into, money shed kept in divorce disputes, money shed sent to Beth Ann in colorful envelopes with short, noncommittal notes. Hope youre well. Ill visit soon. Ill call soon. Ill let you know about my plans for the holidays. Ive remarried. But never: I love you, or I miss you, or Come live with me. A few nights earlier, Larry King interviewed the CEO of Sothebys where she assured the viewing public that they did, indeed, have a chance to buy a piece of Camelot. Beth Ann believed her. She wanted the simulated pearlsthe ones John-John always played with whenever Jackie wore them, but she was

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realistic enough to know they would go fast. There were too many pictures of Jackie in those pearls. The rocking horse was estimated to sell for $2,000 - $3,000. The footstool, the one John-John and Caroline stood on in order to see out the window of the Oval Office, was estimated at a mere $500. Surely she would be able to get one of them with her twenty thousand. Beth Ann wrote a check and sealed it, along with her bids in one of the monogrammed envelopes she ordered just for this occasion. She addressed it with her favorite pen and with her best calligraphic hand. Then before sealing it, she plucked a hair from her head and put it into the envelope, placed a John F. Kennedy commemorative stamp on the corner, then kissed it for luck. Before today she had planned on telling Will about the bid, stressing how important it was for her to have something of the Kennedys. Now, after he deliberately missed his doctors appointment, then went running to Lanas rescue, she knew she had to keep it a secret. This was something for her and her alone. She didnt expect anyone else to understand. Nanna would suggest she do something more practical with the money, like buy real estate or invest it in the market. Will would want her to spend it on a trip, tempting her with the thought of getting away after school was out. They could spend the summer in Paris, away from Lana... She decided she would tell them, but only after the box arrived. She imagined their own son on the rocking horse, laughing and throwing back his head. She would build the nursery around it, gluing a border with horses on it around the room, painting Southwestern murals on the walls, and hanging a

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mobile over the bed that dangled ponies above his curly black head. If it was the footstool she got, she would keep the same motif, placing the stool under her feet when she breast fed the baby while rocking him to sleep. Yoo hoo, Nannas voice drifted from the kitchen. Beth Ann closed the catalog and slid it back under the bed, then carefully placed the envelope in the bottom of her underwear drawer. Where is everybody? Coming, Nanna, she said. Beth Ann looked around the bedroom to make sure all the evidence was hidden. She straightened her skirt and brushed back the hair from her face. Nanna stood just inside the back door wiping her black Rockports on the doormat. I brought you some peppers from my garden. Nanna placed the straw basket on the table then walked to the bar that separated the kitchen from the breakfast nook and sat on one of the stools. How are the old folks? Old, Nanna said. And nosy. Nanna pulled down on the edge of her blouse, then picked at her sleeve. They wanted to know about Lanas latest tryst. Already? Well, she didnt help things any by wrecking in the middle of downtown. Beth Ann walked to the table and picked up the basket, avoiding eye contact with Nanna. Thanks for the peppers. I think Ill make a homemade pizza

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tonight. She washed the peppers slowly over the sink, pretending to look out the window. Is she hurt bad? I doubt it. She was standing up, fighting with Henderson.
They said

Will took her to the hospital.

He rode behind. Beth Ann took the peppers to the bar, then squatted down to the bottom cabinet, rattling pots and pans, looking for her chopping board. So whose car is that in Rachels yard? Rachels nephew. Hes come to help her with the chores in exchange for room and board. The house could sure use some work, Beth Ann said. Hes going to law school at night in Tuscaloosa. Whats his name? Beau. Beau LeFoy. You might remember him. Beth Ann gutted, then sliced the peppers. She shook her head. No, I dont think I do. Nanna looked around the kitchen, then stood to get a better look past the kitchen door that led to the dining room. Wheres Robin? I dont know. Ive been in my bedroom. Cleaning. Shes around here somewhere. Does she know...about her mother? Yeah. You had to tell her?

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Beth Ann nodded, then turned and took an onion out of the wire basket that hung over the stove. Is she okay? Never can tell with her these days. Poor kid. Beth Ann chopped the onion leaving scratches on the cutting board. I just dont know whats going to happen with Lana, Nanna said, shaking her head. I suppose whats always happened to her, Beth Ann said, finally looking up. Will will just bail her ass out. Beth Ann scraped the onions off the board into the glass bowl, then took the board and the knife to the sink. In the back yard next door, Rachels nephew was raking loose roof shingles with a garden rake. He seemed so out of place, looking more like the Bohemian typehis long ponytail and his trendy sunglasses, the leather boots. He leaned forward on the rakes handle and watched something behind the barn. Beth Ann leaned forward to see what it was, but she was at the wrong angle. He must have sensed her watching him, because he stepped back from the rake and leaned sideways to see the window. Beth Ann darted back behind the curtain. Did somebody catch you looking? Nanna said, smiling. She stood and walked over to the sink where she stood a few steps back from the window. The key is not to stand so close. How would you know? Beth Ann said, putting her hands on her hips in mock perturbance. Have you been spying on me?

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Nanna draped her arm around Beth Ann and squeezed. Every single day of your life. Robin startled both of them when she entered, letting the screen door slam behind her. Whats for supper? Theres my Robin Bird, Nanna said, walking toward Robin with outstretched arms. Dont call me that. Robin let Nanna hug her. Dont call you what? Thats your name. Its Robin. No bird. Just Robin. All right, Nanna said. Hows my Robin, then? Fine, Robin said. She opened and shut the kitchen cabinets, obviously not finding what she wanted. It was the same every day. Usually Beth Ann would offer suggestions, tossing an apple or a banana her way, but she didnt have the energy today. Shed just let Robin steam, since thats what she wanted to do anyway. If it werent the healthy food, it would be something else. What are you cooking? Pizza, Beth Ann said. Any meat on it? Beth Ann looked at her. Of course not, Robin said. That would be too much like what real people eat. Robin stomped out of the kitchen and into the dining room, jarring the china in the cabinet with each step, then plopped down on the sofa in the

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living room. She used the remote to flip through dozens of different channels before pausing for a video on MTV that made Beth Anns head pound. Beth Ann closed the door between them, rolling her eyes at Nanna. Shes a teenager, Nanna said. Youre a counselor. You know what thats like. All too well, Im afraid. Youre a bright young woman, youll work it out. Nanna patted her on the shoulder and exited the same way she had come in, leaving Beth Ann to contemplate the situation by herself. The evening was a loss; the mood ruined. She wanted to call Will on his cell phone but resisted. She wanted to know when he would be home, but then again she didnt want to give him the satisfaction. Hed think she was okay with everything and hed be less likely to recognize what all this business with Lana was doing to their marriage. Her protests were silent ones that led to Kennedy shopping sprees and silent dinners, rather than crashing cars and having sex with men half her age.

It was nearly dark when the tow truck followed by Hendersons police car pulled down the drive. Robin was picking at the vegetarian pizza that tasted to her like cardboard, while Beth Ann ate hers with her nose in a book about the Kennedys. They both moved to the back door without speaking. The tow truck backed Lanas car in front of the barn. Robin had thought the car would be worse, but only the front was dented in.

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Will asked me to supervise its towing, Henderson said, stepping out of the car and hitching up his pants. Donnie Westbrook stepped out of the tow truck. Is this all right, Beth Ann, or do I need to pull it somewhere else? Why did you bring it here? Beth Ann asked Donnie. Wills orders, Henderson interrupted. Donnie rolled his eyes and stepped over the pulley. You want me to keep it at the garage? Donnie asked Beth Ann, turning his back to Henderson. Ill be glad to. Will specifically said... Henderson started. Thats okay, Donnie. This will be fine. Robin walked around the car, first examining its body, then peeking inside it as it was lowered to the ground. There was a smear of blood on the windshield. A tube of lipstick on the front seat. An empty gin bottle on the back floorboard. She looked back at Beth Ann, standing there with her hands on her hips and looking at the ground. Do I need to sign anything? Beth Ann asked Donnie. No, Maam, he said. Beth Ann nodded her head, looked once more at the car, then walked back into the house. Henderson tipped his hat toward her, but she wasnt looking. Henderson took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. He looked at the car next door, the Mustang, then looked back at Ms. Rachels house.

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You know whose car that is? It took Robin a minute to realize Henderson was talking to her. No, she said. Henderson nodded and looked around, as if the driver might be standing out there somewhere, hiding behind a tree. It been here long? The car? Just today, Robin said, suddenly curious herself. Its got a Louisiana tag. Yep, Henderson said. Im done here, Donnie said, unhooking the car from the truck. Henderson walked around the car, examining Donnies work, then walked back to the police car and got inside. Without saying another word, he backed quickly out of the drive with his arm draped over the seat and looking back. Asshole, Donnie said. If youll pardon my French. Robin smiled at Donnie. He wasnt all that cute, but it was good to have a man other than her father give her the time of day. He was older, of course, but look how much older her father was than Beth Ann. It could happen. She waved as he pulled down the drive. She waited until he was gone from her sight, then ran around to the back of the barn. Her garbage bag was still there. Shed had to leave it earlier because the guy with the ponytail had been out there. She made sure the journals and the box were still in it then she took them to the house and hid them behind the cinder block, hoping the new guy wasnt real nosy. It was bad enough having that retard

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Tommy watch her. He gave her the creeps. But the new guy, the one with the ponytail, was kind of cute. Like a rock star.

Beau stared at the blank walls of his new bedroom for a few minutes, wondering if he should unload his car, knowing that doing so would mean he was staying, and that thought depressed him. This was the only way he could afford law school. His cashed out pension would pay for only two thirds of the fouryear tuition at Tuscaloosa School of Law. And it was the cheap school. What if he wanted to try and get into the Universitys law school after a couple of years? Why was it again that he wanted to be a lawyer? Or was it that he didnt really want to be a lawyer, but he just didnt want to be a cop, or a mechanic like his dad. Maybe he wanted to be a lawyer because it was the furthest thing from his dad. Lawyers dont have grease under their nails. Lawyers have to talk, to communicate, have to face problems rather than ignoring them. He pulled a cigarette from the pack he had laid on the bed next to him. He was about to light it when it occurred to him that Rachel probably wouldnt approve of his smoking in the house any more than she approved of the drinking. He remembered the refrigerator in the barn. His boot steps echoed through the house. He had never been in a place so lifeless, so empty. He supposed Tommy was still in his room, probably still watching the girl if she was there. Rachel only nodded when he slipped by her in the kitchen, telling her he thought hed take a look around the place. He had the cigarette lit before he hit the last step of the rail-less stairs.

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The structure Rachel called the shed was a shanty filled with so much junk that there was no walking space whatsoever. The refrigerator was in the front, under boxes of canning jars and their rings, strung together with nylon cord tied in knots. Beau lifted the boxes and placed them on the pile of lumber, next to a stack of old car tags dating back to the 60s. The refrigerator was small and moldy, but he figured it would hold a dozen beers. He went to the car to get one of the beers he had bought before it got too warm. The girl was still there, behind the crisply painted white barn. She wasnt crying anymore, but was writing something in a notebook. Several items were scattered around her: a picture, a bracelet. She didnt see him, so he backed away from the car with his bag, trying not to make a noise that would startle her. She seemed shell-shocked enough as it was. When he had finished the second beer, he dragged out the refrigerator and used a water hose to rinse out the green mold. He set it up on the back porch to dry and wondered if there was pipe in the shed that he could use for a handrail. In the shed he found a rake, and decided to rake up the tile instead, thinking that maybe he should clean up the yard first to scare off the snakes. He raked the shingles slowly, wondering what hed do if he went back to Louisiana. He noticed the lights go on in the neighbors house and watched the heads pass in front of the windows. A woman with dark hair and an older woman with that bluish purple hair that so many old women have. Beth Ann and Nanna. Could Nanna be that old? He waited for the little red-haired girl to come out from behind the barn. She must be the stepchild. A red-headed stepchild.

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Dinners ready, Rachel said, through the screen door. She looked at Beau then back at the rake, then turned and walked away. Beau tossed his cigarette into the grass and rubbed it with the sole of his boot, halfway expecting her to slam the door in his face just before he reached the porch. Tommy sat at the table, shoveling spoonfuls of stew into his mouth, not stopping between bites. He rocked back and forth while he ate, never looking up. Beau washed his hands at the kitchen sink, using the lemony dishwashing detergent, when Barney Fife and Goober drove down the drive. He watched Henderson as he orchestrated the unhooking of a car, the Cavalier hed seen wreck into the pole earlier. Looks like your neighbors had a wreck, Beau said, still lathering his hands. Rachel walked to the window and stood behind him. Thats Lanas car, Rachel said. She went back to her seat and continued to eat. Lana? Beau asked. Thats what the teenager had called her in the Mercantile. Whos she? Wills ex-wife. Shes a lush. Oh, Beau said, wondering when if hed ever heard a person use that term other than on television. He waited for Rachel to offer more information. You can eat in here with us, or you can take it to your quarters. We dont have cable, but you could watch the three channels we do have. He wondered if

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that was what she would prefer, if she felt crowded by Beaus imposition into her routine. Beau turned off the faucet and reached for a paper towel. Beth Ann was outside, standing with her hands on her hips and not smiling. How odd it must be to have your husbands ex-wifes car towed to your house. Beth Ann was prettier than hed remembered, her sharp-edged teenager look now softer, more feminine. She wore a long skirt that just touched her tanned ankles, and so thin, he could see through the skirt to her legs. She wore no shoes, but a belt fell loosely beneath her waist. Her arms were bare and dark, covered by the long strands of hair that fell loosely from its braid. All of a sudden he felt the need to protect her, shield her from Henderson like a cross guard shields children from oncoming cars. He knew how to handle the Hendersons of the worldthe overgrown bullies who spent a whole lifetime making up for being picked on as a kid. Beth Ann shook her head and walked into the house. He looked for her to walk in front of the kitchen window. Your stews getting cold, Rachel said, her voice tinged with rebuke. He sat down at the table, listening as the vehicles drove away. Rachel poured Beau a glass of iced tea and broke off a large hunk of corn bread for him. She wiped Tommys mouth with a napkin, then whispered for him to slow down. Tommy slowed his chewing, but still held the next bite only inches from his chin. Beau was not surprised to find that the stew was bland. Im going to need some tools, he said.

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Will lets me borrow whatever I need. And if he doesnt have it, Rose...Nanna will. Theyre all real good to let me borrow things. Things I cant afford. Rachel studied her stew for a moment. She sat on a sewing stool too short for the table, her shoulders barely level with the tables top. Theres a lawn mower in the shed that Will gave me when he bought a new one. He said it just needs plugs, but I havent had a chance to get any. Hes been cutting the grass in the front, but Id appreciate it if youd do that. Now, I feel bad about him having to do it. Ill get some spark plugs tomorrow, he said. Ive got to get some ant poison anyway. Youve got fire-ant hills the size of Indian mounds. Rachel smiled. It was the first time. She stood and cleared away Tommys and her dishes. Its time for your bath, she told Tommy. He made a face and mumbled. No bath, no television, she told him. You know the rules. Tommy stood and stomped out of the kitchen. Beau heard the bathroom pipes moan and squeak. She poured the remainder of the stew into Beaus bowl. I take my showers in the early mornings while hes still asleep. Rachel rinsed the sink and took off her apron. You want me to help him with his bath? Beau asked, hoping shed say no. Not just yet, she said. She draped her apron across the counter. Maybe later, after he knows you better. She turned and walked toward the bathroom, limping a little, favoring her right hip. She stopped at the doorway, but did not turn around. I hope youll stay, she said. We sure could use some help around

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here. She was gone before Beau could reply, the swinging door flapping back and forth. When he had finished the stew, he washed the dishes. No one passed in front of the windows next door, but a big gray dog scratched at the screen on their back porch. He didnt know where to put the dishes, nor did he have the combination to the padlocks, so he set them in the empty drainer. Down the hall Rachel was arguing with Tommy, telling him to settle down, quit playing, threatening him with television privileges. He toted the refrigerator to the front porch, but there was no electrical outlet there. Project number one. The handrail could wait. If he was going to survive this place, hed need beer, and lots of it. It was much cooler on the porch than in the house. A swing suspended by rusty chains took up one end of the porch. At the opposite end was an oval section of screen not blocked by the red tops that framed the Morgans front porch. Like a mirror image, the Morgans swing faced the clearing from the furthermost end of their porch. Only a driveway divided the homes, though through the darkness, he doubted anyone could see him. It would be like looking though a one-way mirror at a police lineup. Beau lit up a cigarette and drank a warm beer.

Robin soaked in a tub of water so hot that it turned her skin pink. Then, the minute the water cooled, shed pull the stopper and refill the tub with more hot water. Here, in the privacy of the bathroom, with the hot water shriveling her skin like an old orange, she did her best thinking. She could think of a hundred ways to

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kill herself right now. She wished she didnt have to keep her journal outside, but she could also imagine what would happen if her dad or Beth Ann found it. Beth Ann would counsel her to death, probing her for those deep seated feelings of resentment, she was always talking about. And her dad, well, he had enough to worry about with her mother. Robin didnt think she would ever really kill herself. It was all fiction, just a way of passing the time. What else does someone who is ugly, unpopular, and boring as a golf tournament have to do? She put her feet on the wall above the faucet and the knobs, and let herself slide under the water, wondering what it would be like to drown. Could she do it without fighting? She opened her eyes under the water, fixing them into a death stare, imagining her parents finding her this way: nude, pink and shriveled, and staring at them through the water.

Beth Ann ate the rest of her cold pizza alone. When Koko scratched on the screen door, she let him in and gave him the large piece Robin had only picked at. He sniffed the pizza, then plopped down beside it. Great, Beth Ann said. Etu, Brute? She picked the pizza up and dropped it into the trashcan under the sink. When she stood up, she noticed the complimentary calendar from the Mercantile with its days marked off with red Xs. She flipped back a month to April where the red X marked day one. She counted them again...28, 29, 30. The last time shed been this late, she was sure she was pregnant, positive that it would be the end of her world. Her second year in graduate school, pregnant, she thought, with her married professors child.

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On the eighth day she went to Hania, seeking her counsel. Hania performed a ceremony, told her to sleep with her feet elevated, gave her goat milk and honey to drink at night. Beth Ann prayed that if God would just let her not be pregnant this time, she didnt care if she ever had children. If Jim knew she was pregnant, hed leave her. On the thirty-fifth day she bled. He left her anyway. What are you doing? Robin stood next to her, combing her wet hair, dampening the oversized T-shirt she wore. Beth Ann had no idea just how long she had been there watching her. Just looking at the calendar. Robin gave her a puzzled look. Anybody call about Mother? No, not yet. Do you feel better now that youve had a bath? I guess. Robin looked so fragile standing there combing her hair, her skin pink from her bath. Beth Ann reached out and touched the red hair that just brushed Robins shoulders. Your hair is so pretty, Beth Ann said, lifting up a strand with her fingers. Hmmph, Robin said, I wish. But it is... Beth Ann started, its so Irish, so innocent. Im gonna watch TV in my room, Robin said, pulling away, then closing her bedroom door behind her. Beth Ann took her cell phone, her iced tea, and Koko to the front porch.

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Beau sat in the swing and smoked his cigarette slowly, enjoying it and the slight breeze that rustled through the red tops. He didnt notice Beth Ann at first, facing him from the other side of her front porch. It wasnt until the streetlight flickered then lit, haloing her figure, that he saw her. Her legs were folded beneath her as she rocked, sipping something from a tall glass. He could hear the faint hum of the street light and the slow steady squeak of her swing as it went back and forth. Tomorrow he would visit his mothers grave, place upon it the sealed letter and the silk flower his father had given him. Then hed go to the store and buy ant killer, spark plugs, and electrical wiring. Hed repair the handrail, cut the grass, and rewire the porch. Hed seek out the closest liquor store and buy himself some Jack Daniels. Hed find a decent place to eat. But tonight, hell tonight, he planned to drink warm beer until he passed out. The squeaking next door stopped. A car turned into the shared driveway, the headlights barely penetrating the bushes as the beams crossed Beaus front porch. The car popped gravel as it rolled between the houses to the back. Beth Ann stood and walked to the edge of the porch closest to Beau. He wondered if she could see himwould say something to him. He held a breath full of smoke and lowered his cigarette out of sight. She poured out the liquid from her glass into the bushes that surrounded her porch, paused only for a moment, then walked back into the house where Beau could hear her husbands voice as he called out to her from the well-lighted house, full of open windows, saying: Im home.

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Beth Ann spent most of the evening wondering how best to confront Will with the issues troubling her. She knew that anything remotely similar to nagging would be counterproductive. That was Lanas specialty and Will was numb to it, tuning out the voices as easily as he tuned out certain people at city council meetings. If she worked herself up and blasted him when he came in, shed only end up feeling guilty later. Fighting Will with words gave her an unfair advantage. He was great at making speeches of compromise and good will, but when it came to lashing out with his tongue, Will became mute. There was always the silent treatment, going to bed before he got home and staying there, pretending not to hear him or see him, but that was only punishing herself. Here she was a counselor, and she would have to resort to what she saw some poppsychologist suggest on Oprah. Fighting fair was the topic. When this happens, it makes me feel... She practiced the declarations silently, swinging back and forth. When you miss your appointment to the urologist, it makes me feel like youre doing it on purposethat you dont want to have children with me. When you go off traipsing after Lana, it makes me fell like our marriage is the least of your prioritiessomewhere after Lana, Robin, and your job. Beth Ann wanted a cigarette. Every time something happened with Lana, Beth Ann craved cigarettes and Bloody Marys, although shed smoked two cigarettes in her entire life, and never liked tomato juice. She thought it would be a good idea to keep a bottle of vodka, a can of tomato juice, and a package of cigarettes hidden somewhere, just for these occasions, like a first aid kit.

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It wasnt until Will drove down the driveway and Beth Ann walked to the edge of the porch to pour out her tea, that she noticed the red glow of a cigarette next door, moving back and forth in the dark. The next time Lana screwed up her evening with Will, shed at least know where to go for a cigarette. Whatever she had planned to say to Will the minute he walked in, crumbled when she saw him walk through the back door. Shed never seen him look so tired, so defeated. His shirt was wrinkled and splattered with blood, his hair disheveled and sweaty. His left eye, the one that always revealed the most about him, was drooped and baggy. He looked like a man who would collapse the second he heard one more sentence of bad news. Koko started toward him, but Beth Ann halted him, grabbing him by his collar and commanding him to sit. I cant tell you how good it is to see you, Will said, leaning back against the door. If only I had the energy to walk over there and hug you... He fell into the chair closest to him and sighed, shaking his head. Hows Lana? Beth Ann asked. She made herself busy in the kitchen, putting dishes into the dishwasher and wiping off the counters. Ten stitches in her head. A bruised rib. More alcohol in her than blood... Is she still in the hospital? No, I took her home. They wouldnt release her until they were sure she didnt have a concussion. Will shook his head and picked at his cuticles. Beth Ann took what was left of the pizza out of the refrigerator and placed it in the microwave.

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Did you eat? No. He leaned back in his chair and rested his head against the wall, tugging his tie from around his neck and folding it over and over. Hows Robin? Did you tell her? Shes in her room. Shes angry. Whats new? Will asked, huffing a little. I think Id be angry, too, if my mother embarrassed me in front of the whole town, again. Beth Ann could hear her voice tremble. Will nodded, started to say something, then rose. I guess Id better go talk to her. Beth Ann stared into the microwave, pretending to be interested in the pizza as Will came to her and massaged her shoulders, then hugged her from behind with his chin on her head. Im sorry about today, he whispered. Im not going to try and make excuses. Ill just do better next time, I swear. He hugged her again, then walked across the hall to Robins room. When he opened the door, Beth Ann could hear the I Love Lucy theme blaring from Robins television. It was one of Robins favorite Nick at Nite shows. Her favorite, Beth Ann was convinced, because Beth Ann couldnt stand to watch it. She didnt have to be inside the room to know what would happen next. Robin would break down those barriers with her dad, clinging to him like a lifeline on a sinking boat. She wouldnt say anything negative about Beth Ann, except maybe her cooking, because she knew that was off limits, but what she would imply would say plenty.

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They were still a family; the three of themWill, Lana, and Robinand every tragedy reinforced that fact. All the secrets, all the horrors, and all the liquor in the world could not tear apart that bond of mother, father, and child. Nanna had warned Beth Ann about the inconveniences of marrying into a readymade family, but Beth Ann had always assumed that someday shed inherit a role in that unit. She was wrong. As long as there was a child, the bond would last forever. They would always take care of each other, even until death. Beth Ann wondered who would take care of her once Nanna was gone. She could think of no one. She placed the pizza and a glass of iced tea on the table where Will always sat, then went to the bedroom. Tomorrow, she thought, she would have to buy some cigarettes. Some cigarettes and a pregnancy test. She wouldnt smoke if she was pregnant, but if the pregnancy test were negative, smoking would definitely be in order. When Will came to bed, she pretended to be asleep. He kissed her on the cheek, brushing back her hair, then fell asleep within minutes, flat on his back and snoring. Beth Ann lay on her side, trying to trick herself into sleeping, replaying the vision she had seen in Paria Canyon nearly ten years before.

Convinced that the canyon was her spiritual home and therefore the place she would receive her vision, Beth Ann agreed to camp there for three days with Hania and her husband Hiram. They fasted the whole time, only drinking water when they were thirsty. Hania chanted over fires and sang songs of worship to

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the sun, shook a rattlesnakes rattle. On the third day Beth Ann saw her vision. She is dressed in a buckskin dress, but wearing white tennis shoes that contrasted with the black horse she is riding. She is riding fast and is afraid that she might fall off, until the horse takes her to a lake. The water is shiny and still, like flat, shiny onyx. She is about to get off the horse when she feels the weight of something on her back. She forces the horse around, pulling him backward to the lake so she may see what weighs her down. In the reflection of the lake she sees a papoose tied to her back, the babys dark hair curling around a pink face. Beth Ann awoke to the alarm clocks three red threes. At first she thought she was sweating, then she realized the moisture was only between her legs. She rose, hoping that she was still dreaming that the egg was still inside her, that it was fertilized. A small red dot in the toilet basin confirmed her fears. In her mind, she knew that what she saw was not an egg, but useless, lifeless lining, shed like a snakes skin. In her heart, though, she knew that the deep red dot was her child, slipping away yet again. Every month a death.

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CHAPTER FOUR Earth Islands Before Moundville was Moundville, it was Carthage. Those in the know say that there mightve been somewhere in the neighborhood of ten thousand Indians living around the place we now call Moundville, though nobody knows what they called it then. Nor does anyone know what happened to all of those ten thousand. Its not likely that DeSoto ever saw them, much less killed them, since theres no mention of them anywhere in those diaries he kept. They mightve died from disease and the like, but all the bones havent been dug up to prove that either. Legend has it that when Moundville was still Carthage, a farmer was plowing one of the smaller mounds and found the bones of a man. One thing led to another and pretty soon all kinds of experts were driving into Carthage to dig,

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take pictures, and tag stuff like crazy. Not long after that people started calling the place Moundville, and the name stuck. Once everybody heard what was going on down there at the mounds, lots of outsiders started snooping around there in the middle of the night, anxious to get their grubby little hands on the valuable pots and tools the archeology people found. That was when lots of the Moundvillians took charge. Before long word got around that anybody poking their noses into our mounds late at night, would be greeted by Mr. Smith and Mr. Wesson. The townies all took turns both on land and in boats down at the river watching for anybody meaning to harm those mounds. Round about the thirties, a fellow from up North took charge of the place and came up with what seemed to be a good idea at the time. He set up a display of the Indian bones just as they were found and built a museum around it. That way the everyday Joe could go in there, look down into a pit, and see what an Indian burial might look like, with all their pots and stuff buried with them. Not too long ago, though, several Indians came down here to Moundville and told the people working at the mounds that they were offended by the uncovering of their dead like that and putting them on display. Burying is real sacred to the Indians, and you cant blame them. More than once its been reported that a school kid had spit down there from the ledge that overlooked the display, just for the hell of it. Mabel, one of the townies who worked in the museum for over twenty years, told of kids throwing dimes down there too, trying to ring the skeletons eyeball sockets. So, when a team of archeology people from

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Tuscaloosa came down here to re-bury the bones, nobody really objected. After all, once you got down to the nitty gritty, we admitted we wouldnt want anyone digging up our dead kinfolk and putting them in some kind of display. Reckon its just best to leave the dead to rest in peace, where they belong. Theres over twenty mounds in the park, and lots of people think therere more in places where the woods are all grown up. According to legend and those archeology folks, there used to be natural springs and caves that kept the Indians alive. In fact, some people say most of the Indians probably lived in Havana but worshipped and came together for special occasions down at the mounds, a kind of spiritual headquarters for Indians. For five years Beth Anns been the chairman of the Native American Festival thats held at the end of every summer. Nanna nominated her as soon as Beth Ann got home from Arizona, saying shed spent years living with the Indians out there, so she thought Beth Ann would be extra careful not to do anything to tick off the ones invited to come and dance and sing and bring their arts and crafts. Naturally everybody agreed, since Nanna asked it, but Beth Ann surprised everybody and turned out to be real good at it. Every year the festival gets bigger and better. Tourists come from all over the globe (even Australia) to see the mounds, buy some crafts, and watch the Indians do their thing. Beth Ann really takes the job serious, too. A few years back the river kept on eating away at the banks higher and higher until one of the smaller mounds actually dropped into the Black Warrior River. Beth Ann stayed on the phone day and night trying to get somebody to care enough to get it fixed. She called the

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governor, the senators, and even wrote letters to the President of the United States. Finally, she flew in a whole slew of Indians from out in Arizona and all over the country, and they all stormed the state capitol and the offices of all the local politicians, all dressed up in their finest Indian garb, attracting every television camera this side of Atlanta. She sent those with boats out to the river with nets to drag the bottom for whatever pots or tools had sunk in the river, then she called even more television stations and they came down jackrabbit to film it all. After that all played on the news, the senators and the governor himself couldnt get to Moundville fast enough, promising to send the Corps of Engineers the next day. And they came. It wasnt a month before a new gray wall was built clear up the bank with fence stretching around it like a fort. Since that day, no one even asks whos in charge when it comes to the festival.

Beth Ann didnt have to look at the alarm clock to know it was precisely 5:28 a.m. No matter what time she went to bed the night before, no matter what day, what phase of the moon, what the temperature was outside, she awoke precisely at the same time every morning. Neither Will nor she bothered with setting the alarm any more. This phenomenon was the first of what Beth Ann called her three daily givens. The second given was that Will would, each and every night if not when they first lay down in bed then at some point during the night, roll over and kiss

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her; tell her that he loved her. The third was the simple fact that at 5:28 when she awoke, Will would be there and he would be asleep. She watched Will and how the sun shone through the blind slats striping him like a zebra. His hair was more gray than blonde these days, and the character lines on his tanned face were deeper, revealing creases even when he slept. He puffed small, even breaths like a child in the middle of a nap. His arm lay extended to his right side, as if waiting for Beth Ann to roll into it at any moment. Maybe one of Wills givens was that once that arm stretched out, no matter what happened the night before, no matter what havoc Lana brought into their world, no matter how many times Beth Ann scolded him for missing his doctors appointment, she would eventually pull up her hair, lay the curve of her neck on his arm and let her hair fall on and around it. Maybe the only given Will had in his world was that she couldnt stay mad at him. Beth Ann resisted at first, reminding herself of valid reasons not to give into that arm, reasons that would be smoothed over the minute her body melted with his so perfectly that they felt like pure energy, his muscles fitting into her curves, his light hair mixing with her dark. They needed to have a serious talk, but not on the heels of a Lana incident, not when he was exhausted and she was angry. Maybe they should make an appointment or set aside a specific time each week to sit down and talk about things that were important to them, issues that might not ever be addressed were they not to schedule the time. Or would Will just cancel that appointment, too, giving her something else to resent?

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Before she met Hania, Beth Ann believed that she had never resented anyone or anything. Justifiable anger is what she called it. Yet on her initial visit to the First Mesa a fight broke out among several of the children. The boys were scuffling, pulling hair and kicking up dust in the clearing in the middle of the village. Other school children held schoolbooks and cheered, forming a circle around the spectacle. Beth Ann had just stepped off the bus and was only yards away from the fight when Hania slowly walked from her house and pushed through the circle. The spectators grew quiet, one at the time as they alerted the others of Hanias presence. A couple of the children slipped out of the circle and walked swiftly toward their own homes while the two boys wrestled on the ground. Hania was shorter than most of the children, but when she looked at any of them they shrunk, hunkering down their shoulders and their heads like scolded dogs. She wore a printed floral dress that fit her like a tapered sheet to a mattress with two legs attached to it. She waddled more than walked, shifting her weight from foot to foot in her inexpensive running shoes and thick hiking socks. When the remaining children saw her put her hand on the shoulder of the boy who was on top of the pile, they turned and walked away in different directions. Once the boy on top saw who was tapping him, he bounced up, struggling to get his balance, then put his hands into the air in surrender. It would be years later before Beth Ann would realize the magnitude of respect required for one to break up a fight among teenagers without uttering a single word.

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Hania grabbed both boys by their arms and led them to her house. Once they were inside, the children dropped their books and ran to Hanias house, positioning their ears to the open windows. Beth Ann picked up her duffel bag and did the same, feeling more than a little guilty that she was playing the childrens game. Near the open door, she set down her duffel and sat on it, angling her head so that she could see into the house without being seen. The boys were sitting in two aluminum chairs facing Hania while she pulled two glasses out of a cupboard. What was the cause of this fight? she said, then pointed to the boy on the left. He is always calling me names at school, always getting laughs at making me look bad. Bull! Hes the one whos always making stuff up and telling the teachers lies about me. Hes the one who started it. Thats not true! Last year he got me suspended because he said I stole a girls homework, when I didnt. Hania raised her hand and the boys stopped talking. Thirsty? she asked them. The boys nodded. She nodded and poured water from a pewter pitcher into the glasses. That enough? she asked them. The boys nodded. The children outside the house whispered to each other as they watched, the voices rising only to be shushed when they realized they could be heard. A younger child, too small to see into the window and too young to understand what was going on, sat on the ground swirling his hands in the dirt and staring at Beth Ann.

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Hania set the glasses on the counter and pushed them toward the boys. They reached out, but she put up her hand. Wait, she said. I forgot something. She walked to the other side of the house near the window. Beth Ann could hear the children falling to the ground to get out of Hanias view, some of them giggling. Hania reached down and opened a trunk that sat beneath the window. From it she took a cloth bag then walked back to the counter. The boys looked at each other then at Hania, who opened the bag and dropped its contents into their water glasses. The rocks splashed into the glasses, causing the water to overflow onto the counter. What is that? one of the boys asked. Resentment, Hania said, taking a spoon and stirring the rocks in the water, turning it brown, is like rocks in a glass, taking up space and dirtying the water. She pushed the glasses toward them and nodded at them. Still thirsty? No, they said in unison. Oh, but yes you are. You are still thirsty, but you choose not to drink. She pushed the glasses to the side and leaned on the counter toward them. Is she going to make them drink it? A voice came from around the corner only to be hushed by a barrage of shushes. Hania looked at the boys until they lowered their heads then she poured out the water and the rocks into her sink. She rinsed the glasses, then filled them with fresh water and handed them to the boys. They drank. Beth Ann did not want to be angry with Will. In fact, she wanted nothing more than to hold him and be held by him, spend time with him, get pregnant by

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him, raise their child with him. His arm lay there, extended for her, waiting for her to forgive him. She lifted her hair and rolled onto her side, facing away from him, resting the curve of her neck onto that arm. Without waking, Will embraced her, pulling her closer to him until they fit together without seams.

Koko was already scratching at the door when she entered the kitchen to make coffee. She let him in and fed him from the seventy-five-pound bag Will insisted on buying-saying Bulk is better though Beth Ann couldnt lift it. She scooped out the kibble with her hands then washed them over the sink. The light was on in the kitchen next door, and in the corner of Rachels window she could see Beau leaning against the counter with his back to her. She didnt want to get caught looking again, so she stepped back to the refrigerator and pulled out a liter of bottled water. She wondered about Beau, trying to remember him. She recalled the presence of a boy next door, but never paid him much attention. She was too busy back then, trying to study hard and graduate so she could leave Moundville and never come back. She drank as much as she could of the water then went outside for her morning run. Koko followed her, pushing open the screen door by himself then waited for her while she warmed up. She always did her stretches standing on the slab of concrete that covered what had once been a well. It helped her with her balance and her yoga. She tried to clear her mind of the night before, thinking gratitude.

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Beth Ann began to run slowly at first then full blast once she hit County Road 37. Koko kept pace with her, but kept looking up at Beth Ann every few feet. Were going as fast as we can today, girl. Beth Ann told the dog before turning onto the paved road that would take her to downtown Moundville and eventually to the mounds.

What he had thought was soft yesterday, Beau saw was muscle today. He watched Beth Ann stretching her body in ways hed thought were reserved for dancers--young dancers at that. Her thighs and calves were well defined, like shed been exercising with free weights, doing squats and lifts. He wondered where a weight room might be around there, then decided that might be a good conversation opener with her later. Then he imagined himself saying something stupid like: Well, I noticed while I was spying on you this morning, that you have an incredible body and I was just wondering... Shed probably slap him. He heard a soft tapping on the screen door. When he looked through the window he saw Nanna, patting her hair and carrying a bundt cake. He was suddenly aware that he was wearing no shirt and no shoes, just his dirty jeans from the day before. He hadnt thought anyone would be up and about so early. He turned to go back to his room, but the door opened and Nanna walked in. Yoo hoo, she said softly. Im afraid Im not decent, Beau said, backing up. Nonsense. Youre fine, Nanna said, not looking at anything but his face. You must be Beau, Nanna said. Im Rose Lavender.

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I remember you, Mrs. Lavender, Beau said, holding back the screened door for her to enter. Please, Nanna said. Either call me Rose or Nanna, but dont put a handle on it. She stepped into the kitchen and wiped her feet on the mat. I brought you a cake. Ill be right back, Nanna. He half ran to the bedroom to find the T-shirt he had worn the day before, then threw it on and stepped into his boots. When he got back to the kitchen Nanna was still in front of the door, but she had laid the cake on the table. Its kind of a welcome wagon deal, she said. Just to let you know were glad to have you home. Beau wondered whom she meant by we and what she meant by home. Thats mighty kind of you, Beau said. He thought about asking her to join him for a slice, but he looked around at the chained cabinets and wondered about plates and cups and forks. Ive got to get down to the beauty parlor. I think Merlene, my hairdressers having a mid-life crisis and shes taking it out on me. Nanna patted her hair again with both hands. Have you ever seen such a mess? Im going to make her re-do it. Before Beau could say she looked fine and that he really appreciated the cake, Nanna had turned around and was headed out the door. Her car, a 1970 blue Chevy Nova, was parked next to his and still running. Beau nodded. Id like that, he said. And thanks for the cake.

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Dont mention it. Then she was off, driving faster than an old lady should, and waving all the while. Beau smiled at her as she passed then waved. He wondered as the Nova pulled onto the main road, what kind of grandmother his own mother would have made.

Robin never knew where she would find herself when she woke up. It was always the same. Open eyes, look around, try to figure out which house shes in, then guess what day it is and what clothes she has in her suitcase. It was eight oclock. Must be a Saturday, the only day she had free without either school or church. She thought about all the free time, wondered what shed do, how shed survive the morning after yet another Lana incidentwhat Beth Ann called it. So she lay there, wondering why she should even get out of the bed at all. Saturday was the day most girls spent primping for dates or at least a night out with friends. She had neither. Her father had been great the night before, coming into her room, talking to her like she was an adult, using all the medical terminology without explaining it. And when she had asked him to be truthful and tell her if her mother had been drinking, hed been honest about it, telling her yes, but that was not for her to worry about. Yeah, right. Like she could not worry. He had to know that every time something like this happened; it just made it impossible not to worry the next time. Every time her mother was five minutes late, Robin saw her body splattered along the side of the road like a watermelon fallen from a truck. Every

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time Lana didnt come home on the nights Robin lived with her, she lay with the phone next to her bed, knowing that someone would call with the inevitable news that her mother had been killed, strangled by one of those weirdoes that hangs out at bars just like in the movies. Every time she heard an ambulance wailing off in the distance, Robin imagined the ambulance driver scrounging through Lanas purse looking for next of kin. Robin squeezed her eyes together and jammed the pillow over her face. She couldnt stand to think about that daythe final daywhen she would stand next to her mothers casket and place a rose on top of it. Yet she didnt know which was worsethe death itself or the waiting. At least if her mother were dead, the waiting and wondering would end. Instantly she felt guilty, so she prayed for God to forgive her, prayed that he would not kill her mother just because shed been wishing it was all over. She tried to make herself think about something else. Way #18. Shed think about it. Water? Fire? Jumping off a cliff... She remembered the safety arm on the front of the bus, how it swept back and forth every time it stopped to let people off. She wondered how she could get past that... Eunice. Shed bribe Eunice with a Stephen King book. Shed bribe her to find some way to distract the bus driver. It wouldnt be hard...a fake asthma attack, a scream from the back, a frog let loose... Robin would get off the bus during the chaos, wait for the sweeper to do its thing, then shed lie down with her head under the right front wheel. After the old man got control of things, he would have forgotten all about Robin. Hed hardly feel a thing in that big old

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bus. Itd be less than running over a speed breaker. Itd be like rolling over a rock or a melon. Her death would be what Coach Wolinsky called ironic, dying the same way her best friend had. Only it wouldnt be an accident.

She was surprised to find her father in the kitchen alone, reading his newspaper. By now, Beth Ann would be back from her run, scurrying around the kitchen, whipping up something that tasted like cardboard. Robin had pulled on some stretched-out shorts of her dads and an old softball jersey he had worn years ago, back when he was divorced and looking for a way to take up his time. She pulled a Coke from the refrigerator and plopped down next to her dad. Will folded the paper and laid it down on the other side of the table. Robin loved that about her dad. No matter what he was doing when she walked into a room, he stopped and gave her his attention. It was as if she were the most important person in the world at that moment. If only those moments werent getting further apart. He was never at home (wherever that was) anymore; ever since hed been elected the people needed him more, or so he thought. Morning, Robbo, he said, smiling at her. He leaned back as if to observe her from head to toe. You look like me, he said, wearing all my clothes. I wish, she said. She popped the soda top and chugged, hoping Beth Ann would not walk in before she had a chance to finish it and throw it away in the recycling bin. Wheres Beth Ann?

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She got a late start on her run this morning, but shell be back directly. He had that look on his face, that pitiful look that said, Im so glad you asked about your stepmother. Does this mean you like her now? Robin read the side of the can, pretending to be interested in the ingredients. Beth Ann said you want to try out for softball down at the park. Im just thinking about it. Im not sure. I think that would be great! What position? I dont care. Pitcher? Follow in the footsteps of your old man? Will tugged at the sleeve of Robins shirt until she gave in and smiled. Ill show you my moves, show you how to smoke that ball by them so fast that theyll wonder if you really threw it at all. He raised an imaginary ball to the side of his face then swung his arm back and under, smashing his fist on the under side of the table as he swung up. Sh...oot Will shook his hand and grimaced. Nice move, Robin said, laughing at him. And this is my knuckle ball, he said, grabbing her into a headlock and rubbing her head with his knuckles. How about I scob your knob, smarty pants? Stop it, she said, still laughing so hard she could barely talk. You big bully. You love me, he said, hugging her and kissing her on the top of her head. No I dont, she said, playing out their routine.

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Yes, you do. He kissed her again. Robin did not resist, but leaned her head into his chest. She loved the way he smelled early in the mornings, the sweet scent of his shaving cream, the softness of his face before the whiskers began to grow back. She loved the casual clothes he wore on the weekends, the jeans, the pullover shirts, the tennis shoes she had bought him for Christmas. He squeezed her arms one last time and Robin wondered what it would be like to get this close to a boyfriend, someone who would kiss her on the mouth, who would love her the way her father loved Beth Ann. She wondered if she would ever know. So, Will said, leaning back and looking at her. Whats the agenda today? What? What do you want to do? he asked. Like what? I thought wed spend the day together, the three of us. Do something fun. You dont have to work? Im not going to. Whatll it be? Bowling? A picnic? Putt-Putt golf? Shopping, Robin said, smiling. She knew this was the last thing he wanted to do with his time. No, no, anything else, please! Being dragged around all day by two crazed women in some mall with millions of people all trying to make up their minds...

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I need shoes if Im gonna try out for softball. No... Will said, stretching across the table, begging. Just pull out all my teeth right now... go ahead. Robin patted her father on the shoulder. Itll be all right, she said. Youll live. Then it came back to her like a bad dream remembered in the middle of the day. Her mother. Her mother was at home, banged up and probably boozed up, all alone. She didnt have anyone to laugh with, to spend the day with, to eat with. The house would be dark all day long if Robin werent there. Her mother would forget to eat all together. Whats for breakfast, Robin asked, trying not to sound upset. Im not sure. Beth Ann should be back by now. Robin looked around the kitchen. There was some kind of seeds on the counter, some flour, and blueberries. Shes probably out gathering twigs for breakfast, Robin said. Thats not nice, Will said. And you know it. You dont like that crap she cooks either. Admit it. Shes just looking out for our health. God knows I need it. Youre healthy, Robin said, hoping her father didnt know something about himself that she didnt. She couldnt bear to think of something happening to him. Why cant she just cook like real people? Thats enough, Robin.

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Im serious. You asked me what I wanted to do, so Im telling you. I want a real breakfast with eggs, bacon, biscuits, pancakes, sausage... Cant we just go to Miss Melissas and eat? Just this once? Will picked up his paper and pretended to read. He looked up and down the pages, then turned them quickly. Bacon, huh? he asked without looking at her. Robin smiled. Better get dressed, he said. They stop serving around ten.

Beth Ann stopped near the mounds and picked cassina leaves from a shrub. The same leaf the Native Americans used hundreds of years ago to make what they called black drink. The leaves were roasted and boiled into a brew that tasted like coffee. It was a purification potion the women drank during their periods and after the birth of their children. She stuffed the leaves into the pockets of her running shorts. She didnt know why she felt so impure, so full of agitated spirits. She wished she were back in Arizona where it was custom for the Hopi women to take communal baths in streams, purifying themselves without shame, stripping down to their souls, feeling the water rush between their legs, around their backs. There was a sense of sisterhood there, where women talked to each other about anything. Sex and fertility were sacred topics, but were discussed as openly as the weather. If a woman was having trouble conceiving, it became all of their problem. Old women gave potions while young women gave encouragement.

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And if it was the man who was infertile, the women talked among themselves, offering their husbands to the barren woman. For the child was more important than the jealousy of a woman. There were no visitors at the mounds, so Beth Ann took her time climbing the temple mound, counting the steps as she went. The Mississippian Indians called the mounds earth islands. They symbolized a oneness with the land. They were concrete manifestations of the ritual traditions of fertility and purification. This mound, that tallest, was probably where the high priest lived. It was the center of the religious ceremony, where people came when they needed blessings, wished for miracles. Beth Ann stood on top of the mound and looked around. She could almost hear the chanting, the singing, the beating of the drum. She could feel the fire on her face, taste the freshly cut corn, feel a breeze of the promise of fall after the harvest. She raised her arms to the sun and turned around slowly four times, the sacred number of the Hopi, praying to the Great Spirit, the Sotukeu-nangwi, waiting to be blessed.

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CHAPTER FIVE Boundaries Its been proven that 800 years ago, when Moundville was what they call: The Prehistoric Metropolis of the South it was a protected area surrounded by a fort, proving that the Indians had their enemies. Its also a fact that as a group, the Indians had to be real organized. The mounds prove that much, seeing as how it probably took many years to pile all that dirt up basket by basket in order to make the mounds as tall as they are. In the center of the three hundred or so acres that make up the mound area is a low, flat area the archeology people call the plaza. They dug up a sandstone tablet that has a hand carved into the center of it. In the middle of the

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hand is an eye. Now if something like that was found around here nowadays, folks would be real quick to call it Satanic, but folks who are in the know, say that this symbol represented the Indians God, that Great Spirit whose eye was always on the doings of man. In a video that the museum down at the park shows for visitors, they say that this disk was probably used to hold the paint used to gussy up the chief right before a thing called a Busk ceremony, where the Indians celebrated the harvest of the corn and prayed to the Great Spirit that he would help them to have renewal of life, so that what has been cut can make room for what will soon be planted.

Beau assumed that the graves surrounding his mothers had been decorated with brightly-colored silk and plastic flowers only recently on Memorial Day. His father and he had never come back for Memorial Day, Mothers Day, her birthday, nothing. It had taken Beau nearly half an hour to find the grave, since the last time he had seen it he was a boy and the grave was covered with mounds of loose dirt scooped over it. There were no flowers on his mothers grave, only an ant bed and weeds that grew so high he could not read the date of her death. He couldnt stomach the idea of leaving the single, red rose and his fathers letter in the middle of all those weeds for the ants to march over in trails alongside the grave. So he left and drove to the hardware store where he bought a sling blade, some gloves, and ant killer. His hands trembled as he gripped the

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steering wheel and sped back to the cemetery. He didnt know why he was hurrying. The grave had gone neglected for all those years, but now he felt an urgency to make things right. He swung the blade hard and low, aggravated that the blade did not slice the weeds and the grass, but simply beat it down. He needed a lawn mower to do the job right, so he left again, returning to the store for spark plugs, then rushed back to Rachels where he worked on the mower until it cranked, then he loaded it into the trunk of his Mustang without telling Rachel where he was going. He mowed the grass on and near his mothers grave then kept mowing until all the cemetery grass was short and neat. It was the least he could do, he thought, wishing someone had done the same for him, making sure his mothers grave was suitable. When he was finished with the cutting, he went around poisoning all the ant beds that had formed on the graves, careful to spray the trails between them, watching as the ants died. He was hot and sweaty, but he did not stop for a minute, determined to make everything perfect before he placed the rose and the letter on her grave. He was looking around, surveying his work when he saw Beth Ann and her dog standing at the entrance of the cemetery. They both stood still, watching him as if they were not real, but spirits of the graves watching over them. He waved at her, wanting to speak, but he couldnt. She waved back, then walked toward him, the dog following her. His heart pounded and breathing became a chore. He wasnt sure why he felt this way, but he had to assume it was the heat, the exertion, and the scare of discovering someone watching him in a cemetery.

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Is this part of your job requirement? Beth Ann asked when she was within earshot. Beau shook his head, the words still stuck in his throat along with the thick bile from working hard in the heat without water. Im Beth Ann, she said. She stood only a couple feet away from him, with her hand shielding the sun from her face. Im your next-door neighbor. I know, he said. His voice cracked. It had to be the thirst, he rationalized. He hadnt felt this awkward around a woman since puberty. I remember you. Yeah? she said. Yeah. She shook her head. She was sweating too, her shirt pasted to her chest. She looked around the cemetery. Her hair was midway down her back, twisted into a thick braid that swung back and forth when she turned her head. You did all this? Yeah, he said, thinking how stupid he must appear, speaking in onesyllable words. Thats nice, she said. She looked down at the grave between them then up to the headstone. Your mother. He nodded, thinking it would be better than opening his mouth and sounding stupid. Damn! What he wouldnt give for a glass of water!

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My Dads over there, she said, pointing to a general direction, then looking back to him and then at the letter and the rose that lay just beside the ant killer. My Dad wanted me to leave this here, for my mother, Beau said, looking at the items. Its a letter and a rose. Stupid, he thought. As if she couldnt figure that out. Have you read the letter? She asked. The dog had sat down next to Beth Ann when she stopped and still did not move. It was as if it were in a trance, as if she commanded him without a single word. No, he said. He sealed it. Beth Ann nodded and looked at the letter. Youre a better person than I am, she said. I probably would have read it by now. I cant say it hasnt crossed my mind. He took off his gloves and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. The sweat stung his eyes. She nodded and smiled, then looked around again, her hands resting on her hips. Well, Ill leave you alone, she said. So you can decide. She turned to walk away and the dog stood up and followed, its tail wagging. It was good to see you again, Beau managed to say before she got too far away. You, too, she said, without turning back around, walking away from him. There was a moment after she left that Beau wondered if she had really been there at all, if the sun had not created a mirage of her because he had been

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watching her earlier that morning. He needed water. His hands were shaking, and he was light headed. He bent over to pick up the rose and the letter and lost his balance. When he had put everything back into the car and was ready to go, he dusted off the top of the headstone with his glove and placed the rose on top of it. He held the letter up to the sunlight, hoping to catch a key word or a phrase, but the lines lapped over each other, forming a jumble of letters that he couldnt make out. He thought about what Beth Ann had said. His father would never know if he read it. In fact, anyone who came into the cemetery could read it, if not take it away with them. Why now, after all those silent years between, did he finally have something to say? What feelings could be so important that his dad actually sat down and put them on paper? He fanned the letter back and forth, wondering what the silent man had to say, then shoved the letter into the back pocket of his jeans. He would make the decision later, after he had some water and could think straight, after his hands stopped shaking and his heart settled down.

She had pushed herself too hard early in the run, feet pounding the pavement so hard that her side ached after only half of the way back. She lost her concentration then, not focusing on tucking in her buttocks and rolling her feet from heel to toe. Her rhythm was shot, erratic from her usual foot-foot-footbreathe cadence.

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When she approached the cemetery, she was shocked to see the difference an hour had made. Werdner, pushing eighty, did not care much for cosmetic grounds keeping and was the volunteer gardener for the historic cemetery. Nanna stayed on him all the time, shaming him for letting Julia Tutwilers grave go unmanicured, but Werdner ignored Nanna, saying you get what you pay for and if she wanted it done differently, she could put on her gardening bonnet and have at it. It was Werdner who Beth Ann expected to find when she spotted Beau. Initially, she had only wanted to get a closer look to see who he was, but by the time she was close enough to recognize him, he looked up. She hadnt thought that her presence might startle him, so she was embarrassed when she saw his hands were shaking. She was probably lucky he hadnt pulled a gun on her, his being a cop. She had read in one of her psychology books of a man who after thirty years on the police force, still reached for his holster every time someone scared him. She tried to imagine Beau as a police officer, his gun shaking in his hand. In the short walk from the cemetery to the house, she considered the letter, wondering if Beau would read it She was projecting, she realizedwishing he would do what she had always wanted to do. Two to three-line notes from her mother could never compare to a letter. All those years of struggling to read between the lines, filling in what she wanted to hearwhat she needed to believemade her hungry for pages filled with long sentences.

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She wished now that she hadnt said anything to Beau about the letter. It wasnt her business. Besides, was it not just as disrespectful to read the letter left for the dead, as it was to take a burial pot from a mound? When she was back at the house, she stopped in the back yard and bent over, letting the blood rush back to her head. She should have run earlier, before the sun had burned away all the fog. Her skin was cold and clammy. She spat the thick saliva from her mouth and took deep breaths. Did you overdo it? Nanna stepped down from Beth Anns back porch. Must have, Beth Ann said without standing. Ive told you a million times. Its not good for women to run. It jars your insides, hurts your ovaries. Beth Ann huffed and shook her head, thinking that her ovaries could use some jarring, but said nothing. The less Nanna knew about their problems, the better things would be. Nanna might be a saint, but she was never a quiet, nonopinionated one. Want some water? Beth Ann nodded and Nanna retreated back into the kitchen. Beth Ann could hear her barking orders to Will and Robin, making her condition sound much worse than it was. You okay? Will said, trotting down the stairs with the water bottle. Its just the heat. Im all right. Beth Ann stood and drank the water, sipping it slowly, hoping it wouldnt nauseate her. Nanna opened the screen door

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and stepped slowly down the stairs, holding the rail with one hand and a wet washcloth with the other. Here, she said. Wrap this around your wrist. Whats wrong? Robin said, bounding down the stairs. She was as dressed up as Robin got, wearing her jeans, a light cotton shirt, and her white sandals. Her hair was pulled back in a headband, and she wore makeup. Nothing, Beth Ann said. What are you so dressed up for? Daddy said we could go to Miss Melissas for breakfast, then go shopping for softball shoes. She spoke with that tone that Beth Ann knew to mean that she had better not ruin their plans. Am I invited? Beth Ann asked. Of course you are, Will said. You dont think Im taking her shopping by myself, do you? That is, of course, if you feel like it. Beth Ann nodded and wiped her face with the rag, which was no longer cool. Ill just need to shower and wash my hair. Sure, Will said. Take your time. But they stop serving... Robin started. Ill hurry, Beth Ann said. She headed back toward the stairs. Shopping with Will and Robin would be one of those few occasions they had together which would vaguely resemble a family outing. Maybe the new shoes would encourage Robin to play softball and make some friends. Maybe it was the one thing she needed to boost her confidence in herself. Beth Ann was almost inside the screen door when she heard the gravel pop in the driveway. She paused.

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Wait a minute, Beth Ann, Nanna said. I want you to meet our new neighbor. Beth Ann let the door slam, conscious that Robin was glancing at her watch. She stepped down the stairs and stood by Will. Beau stepped out of the car, looking as hot and sweaty as Beth Ann, only he had grass clinging to his arms and his neck. I want you to meet my family, Nanna said, taking Beau by his sweaty arm. Beau nodded and held out his hand with each introduction, and when Nanna got to Beth Ann, he acted as if it was the first time they had met, as if he had not seen her at the cemetery, much less talked to her. So youre going to law school? Will said, pumping Beaus hand and smiling his broad smile. Ive got some clerks going to the university and some professor friends there. Well, Im not exactly going to the university. Im going to Tuscaloosa School of Law. I see, Will said. Beth Ann wished Will could learn to hide his disappointment better. It was obvious from his flat tone and the twist of his smile, that Will thought the night school was inferior. Well, it doesnt matter where you go as long as you pass the Bar. Nice try, but the damage was done. Beau cut all the grass at the cemetery, Beth Ann said, hoping to change the subject and highlight the one positive quality of Beaus shed witnessed.

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Well, bless your heart, Nanna said, patting him on the back. I declare, if Ive told Werdner once, Ive told him a million times... Beau fidgeted with the bandanna he had pulled off his head when they all bombarded him. It was clear to Beth Ann that all the fuss made him uncomfortable. He kicked at rocks with his grass-stained boots and smiled on cue, but he twisted the bandanna over and over. Every now and then hed look up at Beth Ann and shed give him her best sympathetic smile, but that only seemed to make him more uncomfortable, causing him to drop his head and survey the ground. He had a boyish quality about him. His long hair was not stringy like some men who wore their hair long. His was full and without a part, pulled back into a thick ponytail. His eyes were a yellowish green with flecks of brown that matched the small patch of freckles that covered the bridge of his nose. He was lean, just short of muscular. He had probably been skinny as a child. Once, when he turned around to say something to Nanna, Beth Ann noticed a letter, the letter, in his back pocket. She wanted to tell him that she was wrong to suggest his reading it. She hoped now that he would not. Daddy, its nine-thirty, Robin said. I get the point, Beth Ann said. Were going shopping, Beau, and Im the party pooper who isnt dressed. It was good meeting you, again. She held out her hand to him again, more to see if his hand was still shaking than for the desire to have her own held. His was steady now, and he held her hand a little

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longer than she had expected, as if to prove to her he could pass her test. She smiled at him. Gravel popped in the drive again and everyone turned to look. What now? Will said, looking past them all toward the squad car rolling to a stop. Shit! Beth Ann said. Henderson jumped out of the car and came running to Will, talking as he walked. Im sorry about this, Will, but she made me bring her here. She kept calling 911. I tried to call you, but your line was busy. Lana stepped out of the squad car but leaned against it as she came toward Will. Ive come for my car, she said. You cant take my car from me, Will Morgan. Im not even sure itll drive, Will said, moving toward her with his arms outstretched, trying to catch her. I want my car and my child. This is my week, damn you. But Momma, Robin said. Were going shopping. Youre coming home with me, Lana said. The bandage on her head was slipping, so Lana shifted her head underneath it as if balancing a book. Her right arm was in a sling, and shed already spilled something on it. Beth Anns face grew hot. Lana had never come this close to her home before, always stopping at the road and blowing her horn when she came to pick up Robin. Now she kept stumbling closer and closer to Beth Ann. She planted

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her feet into the ground like she had when she held the tree stance in her yoga routine. Feel your feet planted in the land. A tree can sway without breaking. A trees strength is measured by how much it can sway without breaking. Get in the car, Robin, Lana yelled. Will Morgan, you are not going to keep me from my goddamn daughter. Lana youre in no condition to take care of her this weekend. Why dont you just let me take you home so you can get some rest. Lana stumbled from Will to Henderson and back again, yelling at Robin to get into the car. Robin pleaded with her father while he tried to reason with Lana. Beth Ann could feel her heart beating so hard that she couldnt believe they all couldnt hear it. Her hands shook like Beaus had earlier. She put them on her hips and took deep breaths, angry that Nanna and Beau were witness to this scene. Resentment as hot and thick as the bile shed swallowed earlier rose in Beth Anns throat. How dare she torture Robin! How dare she come to her house, demanding things of Beth Anns husband. He was her husband now. She had blown it with Will. It was Beth Anns turn. Lana needed therapy. She needed Will to tell her to go ahead and drive that car off a cliff if thats what she wanted. Just quit taking them all with her. Tell her, Will. Tell her that you owe her nothing. Tell her that you have your own family to look after now and shell just have to get a grip and grow up. Tell her, Beth Ann whispered. Tell her to go to hell. She wasnt sure if she had vocalized her demand until she looked up and saw Beau staring at her. For a second it was like looking in the mirror. It was as

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if he were not another human being, not a man, but a reflection of herselfher expression, her hair, her eyes at their saddest. She couldnt stop looking, afraid that the slightest shift of her eye would make the image disappear, just like in those computer generated three-dimensional pictures. She was sustained for that moment by the image, so that she did not hear or see the pandemonium breaking out around her, but suspended above it all. Did you hear me, Beth Ann? Will was talking to her. Her concentration was lost. She looked at Will, feeling guilty, but not knowing why. Im going to drive her home. Get in the car, Robin. But, Daddy, I dont want to go. Just get in the car, Will said, his voice edgy and strained. Now. Follow me to her house so you can bring me back, Will told Henderson. Will grabbed Lanas good arm and half dragged her to the car. Robin stomped and whined all the way, slamming the door so hard it shook the wrecked car. Beth Ann said nothing but wondered when it would all end. How many more times could she put up with Lana dragging Will away from her, how many more times would Will jump at Lanas every command. She took deep breaths and counted to ten, forced herself not to jump on the hood of the car and jump up and down, screaming Damn you, Lana! Damn you, Will! Damn you all! Ive had it! She watched them inside the car; the three of them looking like a family driving home from the picnic from hell, but a family all the same. Robin leaned close to the front seat, imploring her father while Lana leaned against the door,

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half conscious, but content to get her way, while Will did what Will always did best, trying to keep the peace yet pleasing no one. When Will backed the car down the drive, short loud beeps sounded from the car. Is that a backing device? Beau asked, looking at Beth Ann. Its a long story, Beth Ann said. It makes me so mad, Nanna finally said. Ive held my tongue so long Ive got blisters on it. That womans a disgrace. He ought to have her locked up and be done with it... Nanna, please, Beth Ann said, though she agreed with Nanna more than shed ever admit. Im going home, she said. You come on over later if you feel like it. Beth Ann nodded. Henderson was still standing there as Will and his family drove away. He stood catty-corner to her and stared at Beau. Beau stared back. Beth Ann wondered if they knew each other. You just had to bring her here, Beth Ann told Henderson. Had to ruin our only Saturday together. I had no choice, Henderson said, hitching up his pants, still staring at Beau. What? Did she steal your gun and put it to your head? Beth Ann said. Anyway, I thought you were off on Saturdays. I am, but she kept calling the precinct...

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Do you always wear your uniform on your off days? Beau asked Henderson. And drive the squad car? Thats none of your business, Henderson said, putting his hand on his gun holster as if he might challenge Beau to a duel. She didnt know where it came from, but she laughed. Then she snorted, laughing even harder, finding the sound funnier than Beaus cornering Henderson. She remembered Henderson at his mothers funeral in full uniform. Hell, she said, unable to stop the laughter welling up in her chest, He wore it to his mothers funeral. Off duty, mind you. No shit! Beau said, smiling at Beth Ann. No shit. Henderson shot them both the finger then jumped into the squad car and squealed away, slinging gravel and dirt behind them. Beth Ann could not stop laughing. She knew she was hysterical, but she felt good. Tears streamed down her face and she gasped for breath. Welcome to the neighborhood, she said. Beau nodded and smiled. Then she turned and ran into the house.

Before he met the people next door, Beau thought his real challenges would come from living with Rachel and Tommy. Technically he had only been living in Havana for nineteen hours and hed already been walked in on when he wasnt dressed, watched while he visited his mothers grave, and witness to a pretty nasty domestic dispute. Not to mention what had happened that moment

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outside, in the middle of all that ruckus when Beth Ann looked at him. He got chills just thinking about it. Rachel was at the back door waiting for him to come in. What happened out there? she asked. She twisted her apron in her hands and looked out the window while Beau talked. The ex-wife came back demanding her car and the girl. Was she drunk? She was doped up on something. Rachel shook her head and made a disgusted face, then started untying her apron. I need to go see Rose. Im sure shes upset to no end. Will you watch Tommy? Beau nodded and looked around for him. Hes in his room, watching television. I wont be long. Rachel walked down the back steps. Beau watched her as she crossed Beth Anns back yard and entered Nannas house. Like Nanna, Rachel did not knock, but let herself in, the screen door slamming behind her. Maybe she and Nanna were closer than he had thought. He pulled a beer from his front-porch refrigerator and went to check on Tommy. The television was so loud that the sound was distorted, muddled through busted speakers. Mind if I turn this down a bit, Sport? Beau asked, turning the volume knob of the television. Tommy said nothing and never took his eyes from the screen. The bed sagged in the middle where Tommy sat, as if

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there was a permanent groove there for him. When Beau sat beside him, the mattress barely budged, leaving Beau elevated above Tommy as if on a seesaw. So you like wrestling, huh? Beau asked, watching the two longhaired men grab each other around the neck. I met Bombardier Bob back in New Orleans. This got Tommys attention. He looked at Beau for a second, then back at the screen. You didnt, Tommy said. Yeah, I did. Beau started to tell him how he knew him then remembered he had arrested him on a drug charge. He worked near the place I worked, Beau said, unable to come up with anything better. Talk to him. For a second Beau thought Tommy was telling him to talk to him now, like talking to the television or calling him. Yeah, I talked to him, Beau said. He did read him his rights, after all. Bomb deer, bomb deer, bomb deer, Tommy chanted, rocking back and forth and watching the television. Beau assumed the conversation was over. Something caught his eye in the window just past the television. Through the sheers he saw Beth Ann in her living room. Her blinds were pulled up, leaving a broad view of the room as she paced it from one side to the other. The furniture was white, and reflected the sun back toward him. She was fanning herself with a piece of paper and appeared to be talking to herself. Beau stepped back and watched her through the sheers.

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After a few laps back and forth, she opened the front door and walked out of her house. He checked Tommy. He was still watching wrestling, still rocking back and forth. Beau strode into the living room and gently pulled open the front door, careful not to make too much noise, then stepped out onto the porch. She was putting the paper in the mailbox. She stood there for a minute, looking into the box. He thought she might pull the letter back out, but she didnt. Instead, she slammed the lid hard, shaking the box on its iron post, then stormed back toward the house. When she had slammed her front door shut, Beau raced back to Tommys room to catch another look. She ran straight through the living room and into the kitchen. Beau followed her, jogging into his own kitchen and looking through the window. He saw her head pass the window then she was out the back door, running with a towel under her arm. He thought she might be headed for her Jeep, but instead she kept walking. Past the Jeep. Past the barn. Past the old well, and into the woods. He moved to the back door just in time to see the swaying of the bushes behind her as she kept on walking. He opened the door, intent on following her, but remembered Tommy. He stood there for a minute, waiting for Beth Ann to come back out of the woods, but she did not. He wondered about the letter she had just mailed, then remembered the one in his back pocket. He took it out and fanned it the way Beth Ann had, wondering what it might say, wondering if he might not want to open it right now while Rachel was gone and Tommy seemed contented. He walked to his room,

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stopping by Tommys bedroom on the way to make sure he was still captivated by the world of wrestling. The volume was back up and Tommy was no longer rocking. In his room he took the lock box from the top shelf of his shallow closet. Inside was his .38-caliber pistol, a bulging manila file folder, and the only photograph he had of the woman who had been his wife. He pulled out the photo. He rarely looked at it and had on several occasions made efforts to throw it away, but changed his mind at the last minute. After all, it hadnt really been a marriage. What was one day in the life of two people who never saw each other again? She was a stranger to him, more like a girl he dated just a little longer than a one-night stand, yet a girl he loved. A girl he slept with. A girl he got pregnant. A girl who left him without saying good-bye. He wondered now, after witnessing that earlier fiasco next door, if he wasnt better off. Maybe some things were better left unknown. Maybe some people were better left alone. He placed his fathers letter inside the box and locked it.

Robin fumed inside the car, biting her tongue so hard that she could taste blood. She wanted to flat out tell her mother and her father that she hated them both. Hated them for ever having her. Hated them for divorcing once they did have her. Hated them for still fighting even though they were divorced. Hated them for treating her like a baby. Hated them for embarrassing her. Hated them for what they were doing to each other.

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Early in the drive, when they were just leaving Beth Anns house her father had turned on her, telling her to shut up and sit back. He told her to quit her whining, told her not to make things worse than they already were. She didnt need him to tell her what she already knew. She was in the way. He wouldnt have to be dealing with Lana at all if she werent around. Beth Ann and he would go on living the way they wanted to, alone and without Lana and her to screw up their lives. All she had wanted was a pair of stinking softball shoes. Softball shoes and a decent breakfast. Was that asking too much? What did she get? Shoved into a wrecked car and dragged back home to that dark house with that dark woman who now cried uncontrollably in the front seat, telling her father what he probably already knew: that he didnt love her, that he had never loved her, that she wished she had never met him, married him, bore him his only child. That everybody would be better off is she was just dead and gone. Robin imagined her father jerking the wheel so fast that the car rolled over and over, down the embankment and into the river. She imagined the three of them crashing though the windshield and into the river, their blood mixing with the water, their bloated bodies bobbing to the surface only to be found by Henderson one rainy day when he had nothing better to do than look for cadavers.

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CHAPTER SIX Longing for Wisteria Its funny what people will pay to see. Last year when Beth Ann organized the Native American Festival, she asked a plant and flower specialist to come give a talk on all the rare ferns, flowers, and trees found in the Moundville area, especially on the land behind her and Nannas place. Along with this fellow, she brought down an Indian friend of hers whos a medicine woman somewhere out in Arizona. People from all over the country came to hear them, many of them bringing lists of ailments and zip-lock bags full of weeds and roots, asking if this

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or that would help with AIDS, diabetes, or arthritis, each looking for a sure-fire cure. The medicine womans name was Hania, and she didnt look all that special. She wore a long, shift-like dress and tennis shoes instead of moccasins. She did have a little bottle around her neck, but that was all there was that made her look any different from the gypsy woman, Sister Lamar, who lives in the trailer at the edge of town and reads palms for a living. She followed Beth Ann around all day, baring her nearly rotten teeth when she smiled and shuffled her feet as she walked. She had wrinkles so deep you could imagine her cleaning between them with Q-tips. Folks who met her said she had a way of looking straight though you, but they say that about Sister Lamar, too. At the end of the talk, someone asked this Hania lady about making a medicine wheel. A medicine what? Most people probably imagined a bunch of prescription bottles taped onto a Wheel of Fortune type deal that someone would spin in order to figure out what kind of pill you needed at the time. What it was, though, according to this medicine woman, was a place on the dirt that represented cycles in your life. She said that you clear out this area on the ground, bless it somehow, then make a circle of stones, each one standing for a lesson you either have already learned or wish to learn. When one fellow started asking specifics, she was quick to say that making a medicine wheel was a very personal and spiritual endeavor, and she suggested that anyone wanting to make one needed to consult a shaman when they had the time and vision to do so. It

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was not, she said, a practice to take lightly. On that note, the Baptists started leaving.

Beth Ann wasnt really sure why shed been so reluctant to construct a medicine wheel in Havana. It wasnt like they only worked out West; Hania had reminded her in a letter. What better place for spiritual guidance than at home? she said, then encouraged Beth Ann that she knew all there was to know about setting one up. Hadnt she done it before? Didnt she remember that the most important element of the wheel was contacting the Great Spirit? She didnt require Hania for that. There was never any doubt where Beth Ann would set up her second wheel. For most of her life she had explored the wooded acreage behind her home, surprised that no one else ever ventured back there. Once, when she was very young she told her father about the water and the big rock and asked him if he had ever seen it. He said that he had, but she should not go there alone. It was no place for little girls. And when she had asked him to go with her, he said it was no place for daddies either. Once, when her mother caught Beth Ann coming from the woods into the yard behind the house, she scolded her and told her that if she ever caught her out there again, she would spank her until she couldnt sit down. Although the area had never been officially named, Beth Ann always called it Indian Springs. A half mile into the oaks, maples, pines, and poplars, the deep woods parted into an open area where natural springs fed a small reservoir of

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clear, bone-chilling water. To the right of the reservoir stood a gray boulder the size of a Volkswagen with a smooth, flat top. Surrounding the reservoir were floral dams of long-spurred violet, Brazilian verbena, ghost flowers, moccasin flowers, and meadow-rue fern. Not one branch or limb stood between the boulder and the sky, which made it a perfect location for a medicine wheel, since there had to be a clear path to the Great Spirit.

When you go home for Christmas break, look for four rocks that have special meaning to you. It was Beth Anns last semester of graduate school and she had finally convinced Hania to guide her in both seeing her vision and constructing her first medicine wheel. What kind of rocks? Rocks that represent where you have been and where you wish to be. Rocks that have lives that represent your own. In the future you may use items other than rocks, but for your first wheel, I am thinking rocks will be best. Beth Ann spent most of the flight home and the first few days of her vacation wondering which stones would best please Hania. Then on Christmas Eve, she awoke sweaty and shaking from a recurring nightmare that she hadnt experienced since she moved to Arizona. In the dream she saw her father as he slipped and fell from the roof, but this time he did not fall on the butane tank, but on the boulder, his back never bending or curling, but smacking against the flat surface of the boulder as if to take a long nap. But then her mother ran out, yelling that she had warned Beth Ann never to go back into the woods, and that

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his death was all her fault because she had been a wicked little girl and that she would surely go to hell for killing her father. When she awoke, Beth Ann was trying to tell her mother that she was not in the woods and that the boulder had somehow moved, but her mouth was moving without sound. The next morning Beth Ann ran outside in her T-shirt and her bare feet to the side of the house where her father had died. There, underneath the butane tank was a jagged white rock the size of a softball. She had her first stone. Next she forged into the woods, the underbrush snagging her feet. There was no way she could lift the boulder, but hoped that the Great Spirit would point her to the rock that should be taken. She found it next to the boulder on a pile of red maple leaves. It, like the boulder, was smooth and flat. The third stone was Nannas, a smooth polished bloodstone with a hole drilled through the top of it and a leather string looped through it. As long as she could remember, Nanna had worn the necklace when she gardened. Beth Ann asked Nanna if she could have it as a Christmas gift. Nanna hesitated at first, then smiled. It was what Grady had given to her on their first anniversary, she told Beth Ann. It was not worth more than a few dollars, but it was one of the most precious possessions she owned. She told Beth Ann she always wore it in the garden now, because it was there that she always felt closest to Grady. Nanna kissed the stone, then placed it around Beth Anns neck, then kissed it again before touching Beth Ann softly on her cheek. The final stone, Beth Ann knew, must come from Hania. And it did. As if she had known all along that Beth Ann would return and ask her for it, Hania

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walked straight to the cabinet of her house and pulled out a jar of rocks. These are the rocks I used with the boys the first day you were here. I kept them because when I was giving the object lesson, I felt a powerful, unusual presence. And when I looked past the boys I saw you there, peeping through the open window. A bright red hue surrounded you, but on the outer edges of the angry red light was a tint of lavender. I knew that you were here to be healed, so I saved the stones knowing that someday you would want to restore the lavender in your soul. Here, she said, is your jar of medicine.

Beth Ann sat on the boulder in Havana wishing she had a jar of soul medicine, wondering how she could create a wheel of her own away from Hania. Her life was more complicated now, no longer a single thread but a cord of many weaving into and spinning out of control. She was no longer just a daughter and a student, but a wife, a counselor, a stepmother, a tolerator of an ex-wife, a part of a community. She could feel herself glowing red, angry and hot, knowing that she was only a few words away from destroying her life, from taking a dull knife and slicing the cord, yanking each string apart and then cutting them. She needed guidance. She needed a new medicine wheel, but this time the real boulder would be in the center and it would represent all of her familys past. Now she needed four other stones--one to represent each corner of the earth. She thought about it for a while, wondering what stone she could use to represent Will, but could think only of her diamond engagement ring, hardly the thing she wanted to leave lying around in the woods. She didnt have to use

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rocks, remembering Hanias teachings. She could use a skull, a crystal, or any special memento. The objects composing the circle only had to be meaningful and blessed. She hopped down from the boulder and pulled a sack of cornmeal from her bag, then placed it in the center of the boulder. With her arms raised to the open sky, she began: Great Spirit who is the keeper of great wisdom, I ask you to bring the spirits to this sacred place so that they might teach me what I should know, how I should love, and what I must do. I pray that all anger and discord be vanished from this place by the rain that falls, the wind that blows, and the sun that purifies all with its great rays. I honor this place with the gift of corn meal, and offer this land to the coming of the spirits, all the spirits that will come here. Beth Ann then took the corn meal and poured it in a four foot circle around the boulder, wishing she knew the words to the song Hania had sung that summoned the great spirits to Paria Canyon where they set up Beth Anns first medicine wheel.

Tommy was asleep. His big, shapeless body lay on its side like a large mound that had been chopped at its base and toppled over. Beau watched him from the bedroom door wondering what possible harm could come to Tommy while he slept. The television was still blaring, so that if he did awaken, hed simply watch wrestling. He had already eaten, so he wouldnt wake up hungry. Using the toilet by himself was not a problem. The only thing Beau had to fear

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for leaving Tommy alone, was Rachels finding out, and Beau could avoid that by hurrying back. When he was sure Rachel was not watching him from Nannas house, he made a dash for the barn. Sneaking into the woods was easy once he was on the other side of the barn. Being quiet inside the woods was the difficult part. He could not find a trail. The vines and the briars lassoed his boots, tangling him in their loops so that he had to lift his legs as if marching. From deep in the brush he could hear small animals or birds scurrying to flee from him. He hoped that Beth Anns massive dog had not followed her in while he had been distracted watching Tommy. He could not imagine her having trudged through this maze, but he knew she had. And for what? Was there no trail? Beau looked back at the houses, but could see nothing but branches and leaves with occasional slants of dusty sunlight beaming through. He should turn around, go back. Rachel would be pissed to find Tommy alone even if he were asleep. He pivoted on his left heel, content to wait until later to find whatever it was that compelled Beth Ann into the thicket, when he heard her voice. It wasnt really singing, since there were no words, but was more like humming without words, like she was a back up singer for someone else. She was only a few feet due west from him. He turned and followed the voice. The last few steps of brush before the clearing were so dense that he almost stepped right into the open without knowing it. He stopped with his leg frozen in the air, glad that Beth Ann had her back to him, then settled into the

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brush making only the slightest of sounds. He squinted his eyes trying to make out what she was doing. It appeared that she was pouring something onto the ground, making a circle around a big boulder that sat next to a pond. What was it? Lime? Salt? What was she doing? Trying to kills ants this far back into the woods? She had a beautiful voice. It was low and rich with an occasional lilt to it that made her sound like a country singer. The song sounded sweet at times, like a lullaby, then changed to something like a chant, punctuated with short sounds, more syllables than words. Beau squatted lower behind the bushes as Beth Ann rounded the boulder and turned in his direction, but she never looked up. Once a ring of white was around the boulder, Beth Ann jumped onto the rock and sat there with her legs crossed and her face slanted upward, facing the sunlight with her eyes closed. She was beautiful. There was no other word for it. On that rock in the sunlight, she looked like an Indian princess that was about to be taken to Heaven. At any time Beau expected the sunlight to narrow, beaming only onto her and she would then fly into the sun, arms first. He wanted to reach out for her now. Grab on to her feet, holding her down. Then she stood on the rock. Beau squatted even lower, wondering if he should fall back on his ass to keep from being seen. His knees ached and his left thigh tingled with sleep. He shifted his weight to his right leg, then looked behind him to see if he could sit rather than stoop. When he turned back around Beth Ann was taking off her shirt. Still singing, her eyes still closed, she proceeded to step out of her shorts as well. Beau had never been so still in his life. So still,

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that he could hear his heart beating, feel his blood pumping. Then she pulled off her underclothes without ever losing her balance. He had only thought she was beautiful before. He felt as if someone had punched him in the gut. He wondered if he would ever breathe again. She stood there. Firm. Naked. Beautiful. Then she turned around one, two, three, four times with her eyes closed and her arms stretched outward, palms up never once losing balance, then dove into the water leaving only the slightest splash. Before she could surface, Beau was gone, running through the woods as if through water, tripping and falling several times before he reached the back yard of Rachels house. He scrambled around the far side of the house without looking for Rachel, the sweat blinding his vision. When he finally heaved himself up the stairs to the front porch, he heard Rachel calling his name from the back of the house. Whether she knew he had skipped out or not, he did not know. And he didnt give a damn.

It was three oclock on a Saturday afternoon and Robin was already in bed. What else was there to do? Her father had spent the last five hours flushing coffee down her mothers throat, making her one caffeine-buzzed drunk, and now they were in what used to be their bedroom with the door shut. It wasnt like they were having sex or anything, but it was where they always had all their serious talks that they didnt want Robin to hear. What they didnt know, though, was that every single word that came out of their mouths floated up and into the air conditioning vent which then traveled to Robins vent that stood open just above

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the foot of her bed. They kept no secrets from her unless, of course, they had never been discussed in the privacy of their bedroom. When they first got home her dad had offered to take her to a friends house. Ha! That just goes to show how little her dad knew about her. Then he told her it was such a pretty day; she might want to go outside and play. With what? Her sandbox? Well, whats on TV? he asked. Golf, she had told him. And we all know how much I love to watch golf. Then her Dad had given her that tired look, the one that always made her pretend to have homework or some other urgent task to do behind the closed doors of her bedroom so that they could go off into another room and settle their differences, though nothing was ever settled. Sometimes she would even turn on her radio so they would think that she was not listening and might even come to believe that she had a life full of interesting likes and dislikes. Robin looked around at the walls of her room searching for one shred of evidence that she did, indeed, have a life. The pictures on the wall were of Thumper and Bambi--the same paintings, though faded and dusty, that her mother had hung when she was five years old. The bedspread was pink and so thin that she could actually see the threads that had once made up the fabric. It didnt matter that pink was the color Robin hated the most, despising the way it clashed with her hair. Her furniture. White French Provincial. Baby furniture. A canopy over the top of the bed. It had all been nice once, a long time ago when she had received it as a reward for having stopped wetting the bed. At least at Beth Anns

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house (it would always be just thatBeth Anns house) she had grown-up furniture with a spread and curtains that Beth Ann let her pick out. Maybe she should walk to Beth Anns now. It was only a few miles. People walk that much all the time. She could sneak out the window and her parents wouldnt notice until her dad got ready to leave, and he would come in to say good-bye and she would be gone. Then he would call Beth Ann to tell her he was going out to look for her and Beth Ann would tell him she was there. At least shed be near her journal. Shed be able to get it out from under the house and take it to school on Monday and not have to go to summer school. Robin raised up on her elbows in her bed, seriously considering the hike, knowing she had reached an all-time low for wanting to be at Beth Anns house. Dont go, her mothers voice said, echoing through the vent. Please stay. Robin froze on the side of the bed, wondering how her mother had read her thoughts. Robin lay back on the bed amused that she had thought her mother would ever ask her to stay. Of course she was talking to her father. Who else? Its not sex I want. I just want to wake up during the night and be able to rest my cheek against your chest. I just want to hold you, not fuck you. Cant you give me that much? You know I cant. Her fathers voice sounded like he was blowing up a balloon and talking at the same time. Ive got to go home. This is your home.

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Please dont start that, Lana. You know very well That youd still be here if it hadnt been for that bitch coming back from Hippyland and stealing you away from me. Nobody stole anyone, he said, his voice getting louder. We were divorced then, were divorced now. We always will be... We were getting back. You were beginning to love me again, I could tell. You need some professional help, Lana. Someone who can help you sober up and start feeling better. Feel better? You think I could ever feel better sober? Why do you think I drink, Will? The only time I feel better is when Im shit-faced drunk! Feel better, my ass. Theres this place in Memphis, a resort-like clinic that you could stay in for ninety days. Ive got a brochure at my office. It might be good for you to get away for a while and start over. Youd like that, wouldnt you? Youd like to ship me off to some mental ward far away so that you could be Mr. Mayor and Mr. Husband of the Year without having to be embarrassed by me. Well, forget it. Forget you! Fine, Robins father said. But Im taking Robin with me. You cant take care of her in your condition. Robin? her father yelled into the hall. Robin opened the bedroom door and pretended not to know why he was calling. Yes, sir? Get a bag together. Im taking you with me tonight.

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Robin nodded and stepped back into the bedroom, but her clothes were already packed. Its my weekend, Lana said, her voice getting louder so that listening through the vent was not necessary. Go ahead and get in the car, Will said. Ill be there in a minute. Robin walked to the other end of the hall and stopped, not wanting to hear but feeling the need to all the same. Im just gonna come back over there and get her, damn it! Lana screamed. No youre not. Im taking your keys with me. And what if I have an emergency? What then? What? Like needing another fifth of vodka? I think youll live. What if I fall down and break my neck? Wholl be here to help me then? Call 911, Will said. You seem to know how to do that very well. At least youll have a reason to call this time. Fuck you! Her mothers house shoes scuffed against the hallway linoleum, as she followed him out. Robin slipped out of the hall and into the kitchen where she waited at the back door that led to the carport. She stared at the framed crossstitched message her mother had made years earlier. No matter where I serve my guests, they always love my kitchen best. Robin thought about how sick that message had become, since lately all the people her mother served, she served in

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the bedroom. The bedroom that her father once slept in. The bedroom she was trying to serve him in now. And as for the last time her mother had cooked in the kitchen, well... Sleep it off, Lana, Will said, and Ill call you tomorrow after I get home from church. Youre a damn hypocrite, Lana yelled. Go to church on Sunday and treat me like shit the rest of the week. And youre a no-good alcoholic! Will yelled, startling Robin. Rarely did he ever come back at her mother. Everyone in Moundville said her father had the patience of Job. And if you dont sober up soon and stay that way, Im going to take Robin away from you for good! Do you hear me? He was talking through gritted teeth now, his voice getting closer to the kitchen. Robin opened the back door and ran to the car, not wanting him to see that she had lagged behind. He was still pointing his finger at her mother when he walked out backwards onto the carport. He looked like he had been holding his breath, his face was so red. He did not speak all the way to Beth Anns house, but breathed so hard that he sounded like he was sleeping. Robin wondered what Memphis looked like, imagining what it would be like to start over in a new place in a new school where no one knew her or who her parents were or what they had done in the past. She imagined herself sleeping with a man, wondering what it would feel like to wake up with her head on his hairy chest. She wondered if Beau had a hairy chest. She saw herself in a brick house up on a hill overlooking the

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Mississippi River. She was washing dishes in the sink, suds up to her elbows, when Beau sneaked up behind her and grabbed her around her thin waist. (At least it would be thin if he married her.) He would nuzzle his chin in the back on her neck and into her hair, lowering his kisses down to the small of her back. Then they would make love on the kitchen table, raking dishes off the table and crashing them on the floor, like she had seen in the movies. She waited until they were in the driveway and almost to the back of the house before she placed her hand on her fathers and squeezed it. It was her way of thanking him for not leaving her with her mother and most importantly not giving her the responsibility of making that decision herself.

Where in the tarnation have you been? Rachel yelled as she stomped through the house, charging toward Beau like an old banty hen let loose from a small pen. What? Dont play innocent with me, she said. I entrusted my son with you and you went out... She stared at Beau from the top of his head to the spot between his ribs where sweat always seeped through his shirt. Where have you been, pray tell? She had a folded newspaper shoved under her arm that Beau thought she might start hitting him with at any moment. I was out working outside...cutting back some brush. Beau took a deep breath for the first time, hoping to give his voice some stability. Why? What did he do?

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He didnt do anything, no thanks to you. Tommy shuffled into the room. He had a few red indentations on his face where he had slept, but other than that he looked fine. Im sorry, Beau said. I waited around for a long time then he went to sleep. I thought hed be fine. Why are you here? Rachel asked. She shifted the paper to the other armpit and balled her free hand into a fist and jammed it onto her ample hip. What do you mean why am I here? What are you really doing here? He wished to God he, himself, knew the answer to that question and to why he was taking her shit right now. Im going to law school, he said. Not that. Why has that father of yours sent you here? Why now? What are you talking about? Im talking about hunting lodges. She took her hand off her hip and rolled the paper into a cylinder. Im talking about him selling this land. Is that why he sent you? To check out the place before he sells it out from under us? What hunting grounds? Rose said your fathers thinking about selling this land to someone so they can build a hunting resort here. Her top lip quivered. My own brother selling me out, and I have to find out from someone else! Listen, Rachel, I have no idea what youre talking about, but my dad never mentioned anything. Im sure Nanna was mistaken.

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Well, maybe its high time you called that father of yours before I do. Cause if I have to call him, then... She shook the rolled-up paper at Beau only inches away from his nose. Tommy walked over to Rachel and stood by her side, then wrapped his chubby arms around her waist. She did not take her eyes off Beau, but placed her trembling hand on Tommys right arm. A piece of paper fell from the newspaper and wafted to the floor. Tommy bent down and picked it up, looking at it for a second before handing it to Rachel. It looked like a check. Without looking at it, she shoved it into the pocket of her apron. You call that daddy of yours and find out whats going on, you hear? Right, Beau said, shrugging his shoulders. Sure. Rachel whispered to Beau as she turned Tommy away from them and nudged him out of the living room, If you ever leave him again I wont, Beau said. You better not, she said. She tousled Tommys hair, then kissed him on the cheek. Everythings going to be fine, my sweet boy, just fine. Rachel glanced back at Beau, then slammed the hall door between them. The thud echoed through the house.

I live for wisteria season, Nanna said, startling Beth Ann so much that she let out a little whoop. I think that my spring can be divided into three

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sections, really. Longing for wisteria, enjoying the wisteria, and mourning the death of wisteria. Nanna fingered the dried up, once purple blooms. Nanna, you scared me to death! It was a shock to find Nanna there on the edge of the woods when Beth Ann emerged from them. What are you doing here? Just thinking about transplanting some wisteria around the mail box. Nanna looked up at Beth Ann, staring at her slicked-back hair. Youve been swimming down at the springs again? You know about the reservoir? Oh, yes. There are no secrets here, Nanna said, breaking off a segment of vine. Guess not. We need to talk. Can you spare an old lady a minute or two? Sure, Beth Ann said. Nanna took her arm and leaned on her as they walked toward Nannas house. On the side of the house, under the eaves, Nanna kept her gardening apron and her straw hat on a hook. Hanging, also, on the side of the porch were her gardening tools, each of them cleaned and dried before being returned to their designated hooks. The screened-in porch was full of potted plants--confederate violets, pansies, and a variety of cactus Beth Ann brought from Arizona. There was nothing Nanna could not nurture into living. She had on many occasions taken in plants brought to her by people swearing they had killed them, but she made them live. After she had successfully resurrected the twigs and they began to flourish, Nanna would always buy a new,

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decorative pot and replant the living, breathing plant and return it to its owner with an index card on how to care for it in the future. I made us some lemonade, Nanna said, motioning for Beth Ann to sit in the wicker rocker while she stepped into the kitchen. On the white wicker table beside the rocker was Nannas well-worn Bible, the newspapers daily horoscope, and a stack of Tarot cards. So, what are the cards saying, Nanna? What? Oh, that. Nanna nodded for Beth Ann to move the items from the table, then placed a tray of lemonade and frosted glasses on top of it. Just making sure I touch all my bases is all. Beth Ann smiled and flipped through the cards. The Good Lord works in more ways than one, you know. Yes, I know. Beth Ann cut the cards and looked at the two on the bottom of the half decks. The Two of Wands. It meant a lonely or unhappy soul was about to enter her life. That was all she needed! Another miserable soul to play nursemaid to. The second was the Knight of Cups, meaning someone would come into her life and make her think of love. Those things dont mean anything, Nanna said, pouring the lemonade. You know I just do them for fun. Some fun, Beth Ann said. Someone miserable is going to come into my life and make me miserable, too. Sounds like Lana to me. Nanna shook her head, then sat in the wooden rocker on the other side of the table. Dont get me started on that subject. Nanna looked back at Beth Anns house. When do you reckon Wills getting back?

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Theres no telling. Shes probably trying to... Beth Ann stopped herself from finishing the sentence, thinking it would not be wise to let Nanna know that Lana tried to seduce Will every chance she got, especially since she was getting so many chances lately. Beth Ann shifted in her chair, then leaned back. The slight breeze made her shiver even though it was at least ninety degrees. So what did you want to talk to me about? Nanna laid her glass down on the table then crossed her hands in her lap. She pursed her lips, opened them, and then pursed them again. I dont know where to begin exactly... What? I choked on my boiled egg this morning. You did what? I was sitting right there where you are now, and I choked. I tried to give myself that hemlock maneuver... Nanna clasped her hands and placed them between her breasts. The Heimlich? Yes, thats it, but it wouldnt work. Then, by some miracle, I regurgitated. God, Nanna, are you okay? Why didnt you tell me sooner? Im fine now. The only reason Im telling you this now is because I recognize it. Its a sign from God. Its the Good Lords way of telling people in this family that their days are numbered and its time to get our affairs in order. Maybe its your bodys way of telling you that you should chew better.

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No, no. I know Hes spoken and now I must obey. Thats crazy talk, Nanna. Gods got better things to do than go around choking people to get their attention. Like persuading whales to eat runaway preachers? Nanna stopped her rocking and raised her eyebrows. Please, Nanna. Please, yourself. This is important, and you need to listen. My dear mother choked only weeks before she passed on. And Grady, God bless his soul, choked on his eggs seven days to the hour that he moved on. This is not a coincidence, and Im no spring chicken. Beth Ann set her glass on the table, then stood and walked to the other side of the porch, looking out toward the woods. So this is what you wanted to tell me? You choked and now youre bound to kick the bucket any minute because of it? Ive heard rumors, Beth Ann, rumors that Kurt Bledsole cant wait for me to kick that bucket so he can buy our land and turn all of Havana into a deer hunting resort. What? His mealy-mouthed wife has been chattering about it in town, telling folks shes upset that Kurt wants to build a hunting resort when shed rather vacation in Europe. She told Merlene down at the beauty shop that Rachels brother down in Louisiana has already agreed to sell Rachels land and theyre just waiting for me to nod on off so they can buy the rest.

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Thats ridiculous, Nanna. Besides, whats to make them think you would ever sell it? According to her, Nanna pulled on the hem on her blouse, then clasped her hands in her lap. Wills in on it too. What? Thats what shes telling everybody. She said a surveying crew out of Greensboro has already been hired. By Will. When did you hear this? Today. Merlene called me right after that little ruckus with Lana. Rachel was here when she called, and needless to say, shes pretty upset. That cant be true. Will wouldnt do something like that. Hed tell me. Hed ask me. Hed ask you! Im just passing on what I heard. I dont want to believe that about Will either. You know I love him like a son. Beth Ann paced back and forth along the length of the small porch. Its just a rumor. I wont have my home turned into some playground for grown men to go around killing defenseless animals after Im gone. Of course not, Beth Ann said. Besides, I dont think they could if they wanted to. Theres at least one ceremonial mound back there if not more. Theyd just shoot around them. Men like that dont care. Men like what? Theyre just men.

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This land has always belonged to the women of our familymy grandmother, my mother, and soon you. Youre not going anywhere, Nanna. Youll outlive us all. What I need to know, Nanna said, leaning forward in her chair, is that you are not going anywhere. I cant leave you this land if youre going to run off to Arizona and leave it to the wolves. Nanna, weve been here before. I dont intend on living in Havana all my life. This is your home. Nanna stood and walked over to the screen door. You were born here. Growing up here doesnt make it my home. I felt more at home at First Mesa than Ive ever felt living here. Nanna slumped, then straightened herself up again and for a second, through all the wrinkles, Beth Ann could see her fathers face looking back at her, telling her she should always wear shoes when she went traipsing outside. Your problem is youre scattered. Your bodys here, your mind is in Arizona, and your soul is wandering every which away. I just dont want to get trapped Nanna halted Beth Ann with her outstretched palm then opened the screen door and stepped down into the yard. She pulled her apron off the hook and wrapped the strings around her waist, tying it tighter than it needed to be. Then she removed her tattered straw hat from the hook and shoved it onto her head, yanking the ribbons and tying them under her chin. This place is my home. And

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whether you like it or not, its your home, too. Maybe youll understand some day...how hard it is to leave a place once youve buried someone you love there. Nanna shook her head and walked into the garden, careful to avoid the rocks that could turn under her feet. Beth Ann picked up the Tarot cards and asked them without speaking what in the world was about to happen to her family. The card she drew was the Tower card. A negative card with people jumping out of a burning tower. She put the card back into the deck and sifted through it until she found the Lover card. This card she shoved into her jeans pocket, hoping that if she placed it in just the right position on her medicine wheel, shed find out that what Nanna had said about Will was just another small-town rumor.

Do you want to check the mail? Will asked Robin as they got out of the car. Sure. She looked at the house next door hoping to get a look at Beau as she walked down the driveway toward the front of the house, but the sun was low and reflected into the windows turning them into mirrors. She didnt look too long, afraid Tommy would stare out and think she had the hots for him. That was all she needed. One more freak following her around. There was only one letter in the box. She pulled it out, but when she did she noticed it was not addressed to her dad or to Beth Ann, an outgoing letter to somebody named Sotheby. She put it back in the box and pulled up the plastic red flag so the postman would know to stop there on Monday.

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CHAPTER SEVEN The Children of the Sun God In the remote past so far distant That time itself seems without reckoning Great Hordes of people left their Northern Asiatic shores To seek new homes across the strait We now call Bering. Their purpose must remain unknown: Possibly a warmer climate: perhaps more fertile soil, Perchance to seek the Fair God. Sufficient it is for us That they came. from Children of the Sun God

In 1939 the Hale County Historical Society reenacted the story of the Moundville Indians by putting on a pageant showing how they came here and what life was like for them. Two women wrote the play, and a whole slew of

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people from the high school to the churches signed up to be in it. They called it: The Children of the Sun God: An Epic of the Moundbuilders. They acted it out on the Temple Mound, and everyone in Moundville who wasnt in it turned out to watch it. They found out later, though, that most of the play was historically incorrect, so they shelved it. But folks got to missing all the hoopla, wishing they could all come together in some way like they had in the pageant. That was when the Methodist preacher, Rev. Robert Lee Hagood came up with The Road to Calvary, a passion play about the death and crucifixion of Christ. With the Bible as his guide, he wasnt too afraid of being historically incorrect. To this day the play is still presented by all the churches in town on three of the mounds as an Easter sunrise pageant. The greatest honor there is for a man in Moundville is to be chosen to play Christus. It is the only role that changes every year, and it can be played only by an upstanding young man of the community. Will Morgan is the only man to have ever played Christus twice. The first year he played it, back in 1984, he was married to Lana who was sober then and played Mary Magdalene. That same year the prop man forgot the bread for the Last Supper scene and they had to buy some hamburger buns from the Mercantile at the last minute. In a popular commercial an old lady went around yelling, Wheres the beef! So, when the buns came around to the men playing the disciples, one of them snickered and said, Wheres the beef? All the disciples laughed under their breath, until a humongous cloud came up and a giant bolt of lightning struck

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nearby. A tornado fell out of the clouds and headed toward the mounds. Everybody ran like crazy. It was the only time they ever had to cancel the pageant, and it was the last time anybody dared to joke around on top of the mounds.

Beau sat on the side of his rickety bed waiting for his father to answer the phone. He knew was calling at a busy time for the garage, since customers would be dropping by to pick up their newly repaired cars, but that was mostly Greg Gardners territory. He was the face people saw, the name they read on their ticket, and the man they came back to if the car began making different sounds after it had been repaired. For all practical purposes, it was Greg and not B.C. LeFoy who ran LeFoys Garage. Beaus father kept up the books and the payroll and made sure the mechanics were up to par, watching over their shoulders periodically, only commenting when he saw them do something wrong. LeFoys Auto Repair, Greg said. Beau heard the hum of the industrial fans in the background, punctuated by jingling bells from the cash register and the door. He could picture Greg wearing oily blue coveralls and holding a can of Dr. Pepper. Greg? Beau. Well, Ill be, Greg said. Youre alive after all. Weve got a pool going on down here and the odds are on you being killed in some freak accident involving duct tape and a ceiling fan. Greg laughed into the phone. I know. Ive been meaning to call, but

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Yeah, right. Ive heard it all before from my own son. Speaking of which, you want to speak to your old man, or did you call to take up all my time? Is he around? You know he is, seeing as how its money collecting time. Been working here twenty years and he still watches me at the till, thinking I might steal me fifty cents for a drink. Beau laughed. Here he is. Hey B.C., its that ambulance chasing son calling to tell you hes learned how to finally sue your ass for all those years of working slave labor. There was laughter in the background and muffled sounds of the phone switching hands. Customers asked questions. Bells dinged. Everything was just as Beau had left it. Hello? Hey, Dad. Hows law school? I havent started yet. I go to advising and orientation next week, but I wont start classes until July. You helping Rachel? Yeah, though the place is pretty much beyond repair. What do you mean? Its just in bad shape is all, which is why Im calling. Beau waited, and when his father did not inquire, he swallowed and took a deep breath. Whats going on, Dad? Why did you want me staying with Rachel? What do you mean? Youre the one who wanted to go to law school. Yeah, but why did you want me to stay here with her?

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Cause it was cheap. Aint that what you wanted? She thinks you sent me up here because youre wanting to sell the place. She thinks Im here to spy or to come up with a price to sell the place out from under her. Did you set her straight? Whats there to set? I mean, I dont know what youre scheming. Are you saying you dont know anything about a hunting lodge? What about it? Never a straight answer. Either his father said nothing at all, or he talked in circlesanswering nothing but asking everything. You tell me, damn it! Ive got Rachel coming down on my ass and I dont have a clue. Are you or are you not thinking about selling the place? Ive been approached. By who? A man named Bledsole. Have you met him? No. Beau could feel his face getting hot. Hed been set up. All this time that he thought his father believed in him and his ability to go to law school, hed just needed him to go to Alabama and do some dirty work for him. Just like all his life in the garage. Beau could never repair a carburetor or rebuild an engine the way it should be done, but that never stopped his father from making him work in the garage every day after school and on most weekends without pay, telling him that a roof over his head, shoes on his feet, and clothes on his back were plenty reward for a sons hard work.

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Hes called a couple of times, but I havent given him an answer. What about Rachel and Tommy? You planning on making me kick them out into the streets? Course not. Beau waited for more, waited for his father to say what he planned on doing with his sister and his nephew once he sold the house, but there was only the sound of the fans and the bells, and the boom of Gregs voice in the background. Then what? What are you planning, Dad? He spat the word Dad as if he were swearing. I dont plan to do anything at this point. And if you do decide at some point you want to sell Then Ill do right by my sister...and her boy. I aint no heartless son of a bitch, Beau. Why didnt you tell me? Give me warning? I havent talked to you. I thought youd call and when you did, well... So thats what you want me to tell Rachel? Tell her that you might sell her land, but youre in no hurry, but if you do decide you want to sell it, youll do right by her. Thats your story? Its the truth, aint it? Yeah, well, you tell her then. All right. Fine. Beau sat looking out the window in the familiar echo of silence that surrounded his father and him. Will and his daughter pulled down the

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driveway next door. He looked at his watch. It was after six. It sure had taken him a long time to drive his ex-wife home. He wondered if they were still having sex. For a second he wished they were, hoping there was more than a crack in Wills marriage to Beth Ann, thinking it would make it easier for her to stray if her husband was still diddling his ex-wife. Then again, what would Will possibly want in that broken-down lush when he had what Beau had seen down at the reservoir? So, are you going to put her on? Who? Are you gonna give the phone to Rachel or not? Ill tell her, Beau said. There was no use getting Rachel worked up again while his dad went through his cat-and-mouse conversation. Rachel was a bottom-line person like Beau. He liked that about her. Robin walked back down the drive toward the road. Will got out of the car. He looked like shit. Maybe he was still having sex with his ex-wife. But what about the kid? What would she have been doing while her dad and her mother got it on? She was looking in the mail box now, reading the letter Beth Ann had shoved in there earlier. She put it back and wandered down the drive, looking at his window all the way. He wondered if she could see him, so he waved just in case. No need making her think he thought he was too good to speak. The kid had been put through enough already. Did you do what I told you? What?

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Did you go to your mothers grave? Yeah, he said, though he knew he hadnt technically done what his father told him to do. The letter was still in his lock box. Good. Robin walked to the back of the house and looked around. Beau stood and walked to the edge of the window just out of sight. She was about to do something sneaky. Probably smoke a cigarette. She bowed down and pulled a cinder block from the foundation of the house, then stooped down even lower, jamming her arm as far under the house as it would reach. She came out with a garbage bag. It appeared to be the same one shed been sifting through before, the first day he arrived. She kept looking around as she replaced the block and took the bag to the other side of the barn. The guys down at the precinct called asking for your address. You didnt give it to them, did you? Hearing from them was the last thing he needed. I thought they might be sending you a retirement check or something. Didnt I ask you not to do that? Whats the big deal, anyway? You got something to hide? Beau stared at the closet, wishing he had a cordless phone. He knew the file was there in the bottom of his lock box, but he wanted to see it right now just to assure himself that he had done the right thing by taking it. Was that why they were calling? Had they missed it? Son, is there something youre not leveling with me about?

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Thats the question I should be asking you, Beau said. Seems to me like you did, and I answered it. Its your turn now. For a fraction of a second he thought about coming clean with his dad and telling him why he had really left the force, why they were calling him right now, why he could not come back to Louisiana until some things were figured out and his last case solved. His father having given them his number in Alabama was testimony enough as to why Beau had to keep it all to himself. At least for now. Ive got to go, Dad. Ive got to calm Rachel down. I dont mind talking to her. Thats all right. Ill handle it. Silence. Then, in a near whisper B.C. LeFoy said: If youve got something you need to get off your chest, well, Ill listen. It was the most intimate conversation hed ever had with his father, but now that it was here, he was sure he would suffocate before he could hang up the receiver. Thanks, he managed to squeak out before he placed the receiver back on the hook. When his hands stopped trembling, Beau pulled a warm beer out from under the bed. It was his emergency stash he kept for the middle of the night, in case he didnt feel like he could make it to the porch in time. After he downed it in one steady gulp, he walked to the closet, and pulled the strong box from the top shelf. He had hidden the key in the Bible on the metal cabinet in the book of Job. He opened the worn Bible and turned to the section where the key had made an indentation:

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If I have concealed my sin as men do, by hiding my guilt in my heart because I so feared the crowd and so dreaded the contempt of the clans that I kept silent and would not go outside Oh, that I had someone to hear me! Beau closed the Bible and unlocked the box. He pulled out the gun and tossed it on the bed along with his nameplate, the photograph of his ex-wife, and the letter he was supposed to have left on his mothers grave. The file was so fat and bulky that it had formed a false bottom, and Beau had to bend it and pull on its middle to get it to budge. When it finally did come loose, it exploded, flipping crime pictures all over the room like 52-card pick up. He hadnt wanted to open the file, much less look at the photographs. He ran around the room snatching up the black and whites. He worked quickly, hoping neither Rachel nor Tommy would come barging into his room and see him holding pictures of a raped and murdered twelve year-old girl. There would be absolutely no way to explain it. When he had shuffled the photos back into the file, he shoved it all-letters, gun and file--back into the box and locked it as if it may all come charging out again like a jack-in-the-box. Sweat dripped off his forehead. He locked the box with the key and slid it back onto the closet shelf, then reached under the bed and yanked out another beer and drank it like the first, wiping his forehead, and opening the Bible back to Job. He let his eyes linger, scanning the onion-skin paper with his sweaty finger, thinking that if there was a God, hed have some words of comfort for him now. If people could call the Psychic Hotline in the

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middle of the night and find comfort, surely God could direct his finger to a verse that would tell him what to do. He closed his eyes and let his finger travel down the page until he felt the compulsion to stop. When he did, he held the Bible up toward the windows light. If my heart has been enticed by a woman, or if I have lurked at my neighbors door, then may my wife grind another mans grain, and may other men sleep with her... It is a fire that burns to destruction.

Robin only had to get as far as the kitchen window to know that she didnt have to worry about getting caught while she retrieved her journal. They were arguing. Deja vu. House to house. Beth Ann drilled him, wanting to know what the hell took him so long, and her dad, true to his form, said Beth Ann was overreacting and things werent the way they seemed. They never were. She looked around just in case, then plunged her arm under the house. She needed a new hiding place for her bag. There was too much traffic back here lately to please her, what with Beau and Henderson, and Danny from the garage. There was no telling who might drive up nowadays. She thought she might hide the bag in Nannas barn since even Nanna only went as far as the door and that was just to feed a stray cat that had taken up residence there. She laid her garbage bag on the side of Beth Anns barn and walked over to where the birds burial mound rose more like an ant bed than a grave. She dreaded school on Monday, knowing that since she was staying with Beth Ann

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and her dad for the weekend, she wouldnt be able to pull off a sick day with the ease it took to fool her mother. It was the last week of school, which every picked-on kid knew to be the cruelest week of the year. By the middle of the week the teachers would have turned in their grades, leaving the last few days as free daysdays that only three types of kids came to school: teachers kids, whose parents made them come; kids who were too mean be allowed to stay home, and girls with big bows in their hair. Brandi, of course, was one of those girls. This trio of misfits and the fact that the teachers were too busy packing up their bulletin boards to notice, provided plenty of time for the mean kids to be mean and the social girls to be cruel. Robin not only loosely fit into the category of being a teachers kid but also was often an easy target for both the mean and the social. Hello, there. Robin screamed, shaking her hands and jumping up and down on her tiptoes, shocked by the voice that appeared from nowhere. Im sorry. I didnt mean to scare you. It was Beau. She could see that now, but she still couldnt say anything. Her heart burned almost as hot as her face. She hadnt heard a thing, then all of a sudden he was there. Are you okay? She managed to nod, but she had to make herself swallow the lump in her throat before she could even think about talking. I thought you heard me. He came toward her and put his hand on her shoulder. More heat. Heat that spread from her shoulder down her arms, through the center of her body, landing somewhere below her stomach and above her thighs. She felt like crying

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but didnt know why. She wasnt sad, at least not any sadder than usual. Beau kept his hand on her shoulder, and it looked as though he might hug her. Maybe she should cry. If she did, he might take her into his arms, and she could test drive that chest of his, see how it would feel to wake up with her head on it. She moved closer to him. Youre shaking, he said, then drew back his hand. The heat slipped away like water in the bath--never staying hot enough long enough. I saw you back here and wondered what you were doing. Nothing. She looked back to the barn at her garbage bag, then looked down at the mound just in front of her feet. Was that a pet of yours? He looked down at the mound then back up at her. This? Yes. No. Kind of. The way she stumbled, hed have to think she was as retarded as that cousin of his. I saw you bury it the other day. You did? She was definitely going to have to find another hiding place. What was it? He squatted down and picked up a stick from the ground. He broke it in half and stared at the grave as if he might say something over it. A bird. A pet parakeet or something? No. She couldnt remember the name of the bird, and when she did remember she didnt want to tell him. Hed make a big deal about a Robin burying a robin. She had already been there in her own mind.

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I was just on my way to put a letter out for the postman and saw you here. Thought Id speak. Youll have to wait until Monday, Robin said. Slowly the blood was flowing back into the rest of her body. She tingled all over, but was definitely coming back. The mail...lady has already come. Has she? Howd you know? I checked. I see. And if I go ahead and put my letter in now, you think itll be safe till then? Sure, she said. What did he think this place was? New York City? Beth Anns got some crap in there now. Itll be fine. Good to know, he said. He smiled. He had a crooked eyetooth. Not crooked enough to make him look funny, but crooked enough to make you look at it when he smiled. The voices from inside the house were getting louder. He turned to look in that direction. Robin felt she should say something or cough, do something to take the attention away from the arguing. When exactly were you planning on telling me about this? Beth Anns voice bellowed. There was the muffled voice of her father, then: Maybe thats because youve been too damn busy chasing Lana all over town, covering up her shit like a cat in the sand box... So, Robin said, how do you like living here? Okay I guess, he said, looking back at her.

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Nice and quiet, huh? She hadnt meant to make a joke, but a nervous laugh escaped her anyway. They fight like this often? Not like he did...does with my real mother. A hunting lodge? Of all things, Will! Did you honestly think Id let you turn this land into an arcade for a bunch of gun-toting rednecks? I dont know about this one, Robin said, suddenly interested herself. Its not your land. Its Nannas. And when Nannas gone its mine. And whatevers yours doesnt belong to me. Is that what youre saying? Nice car, Robin said, nodding at the Mustang. Its okay that whats mine is yours, it was her fathers voice now, but anything thats yours is hands off. Is that the way marriage works? I dont think selling your wifes grandmothers land to a bunch of hunters qualifies as proper marriage etiquette, Will. And neither does lying. First you lie about going to the doctor and now you lie about selling off the place my family has lived for years... Youre the one whos always preaching about moving! Since when are you so devoted to this house? All Ive heard from you ever since I met you was how you had to get out of this town. They make me crazy when they fight, Robin said, giving up on the diversion tactic.

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I was twelve when my mother died, Beau said. After that, my father hardly said a word. The silence was awful. Dont talk to me about devotion, Will Morgan. Youre the one who cant seem to tear yourself away long enough to have a simple sperm test! Id give anything if it was quiet around here, Robin said, toeing the ground around the birds grave. Beau nodded, placing his hands on his hips and looking down at the ground where the bird was buried. Then he looked up as if he were about to say something, when her dad barged out of the back door, not allowing the screen to close itself, but slamming it shut. Thats it! he screamed, fumbling with his keys. Everybody wants something from me. And its never enough! Robin turned to go to him, to tell him that she didnt want anything from him. It scared her when he lost it, since he never got this upset. I just want one night of peace and quiet! Is that asking too damn much? Robin stopped, frozen as he lunged into the car and backed it out, coming within inches of ramming Beaus Mustang. She didnt know where he was going, but she knew he never looked for her. He never wondered what she might do with herself once he escaped, in search of his one night of peace and quiet. She thought of the sign on the back door of her mothers house: Home is where the heart is. Her home was in that big white Oldsmobile that zoomed down the road, slinging gravel and dust behind it. Her home was leaving her, looking for that peace and quiet, not knowing or caring that she craved the very same thing. What she wouldnt give to find that peace and quiet with her dad, the last person in her

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life who remotely resembled family. So she stood there, not moving forward and not stepping back, not caring that the good-looking guy next door saw her cry. And then Nanna came to her, holding out soft, flabby arms for her, folding her into them like wings, rocking her like her mother once did long ago. Come with me, child, Nanna said. Come home with Nanna.

Whenever Beth Ann was upset, she cleaned. By the time Will got home from Lanas she had scrubbed all the small appliances in the kitchen. It was as if anger tunneled her vision to the scope of a paper towel cylinder, focusing only on the dirty base of the blender or the spaghetti splatters inside the microwave. All during their argument she scrubbed an inexpensive cookie sheet with steel wool, convinced that getting it back to its original shine was priority one. By the time Nanna called to tell her that Robin was at her house, Beth Ann had pulled everything out of the refrigerator and was polishing the interior with glass cleaner. I never knew Robin was here, Beth Ann told Nanna. Robin said Will and Lana had a fight, so he brought her back with him. Thats news to me. Shes heartsick that Will left here without her. She feels abandoned. Join the club. Beth Ann loaded the refrigerator, but kept out the tomato juice, the Worcestershire sauce, and the celery. There had never been a better time for a Bloody Mary. Ill come get her in a little while. What about Will?

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What about him? If he knows whats good for him, hell sleep at his office tonight. Or at Lanas, one. Hed never do that, Nanna said, whispering. Yeah, well, I never thought hed try to swindle you out of your land either. If theres one thing Ive learned lately about Will Morgan, its that I dont know him at all. Nanna was silent on the other end of the line restraining herself, Beth Ann knew, from saying what a fine man Will was and that we were all human. Well, Robin is here and shes settled. I cooked her a hamburger and fried her some potatoes. Well probably make some teacakes later if youd like to come over and help us. We could have ourselves a girls night out. Beth Ann smiled. The thought of the three of them mixing flour and rolling out dough, each laughing as if they didnt have a worry in the world appealed to her. I just might do that, she said.

After she mopped the kitchen floor twice, Beth Ann took a pitcher of Bloody Marys and a glass to the front porch. She wanted a few drinks in her system before she went over to Nannas, so she could pretend to be worry free and make herself laugh. It was still hot out, the temperature plaque on the tree registering ninety degrees, but the humidity was all but gone, taking with it that thick, heavy feeling that was more like breathing water than air. Nice night, huh? Beau walked across the driveway and into the front yard. He finished off a cigarette and stubbed it into the ground with his boot. He

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looked fresh, like he had just taken a showerhis hair wet and pulled back. He walked to the porch and stood with one foot propped on the bottom step. At least the humiditys gone. Beth Ann pulled her legs up under her in the swing. Lightning bugs, the first she had seen since last year, dotted the yard like stars on a cloudless night. Is Robin okay? Beau asked. I guess. Why? I was with her in the back yard earlier when, well. She was pretty upset when Nanna came and took her to her house. I never knew she was here at all. If Id known, Id... She took a sip of her Bloody Mary, wondering if she would have done anything differently at all. You got another cigarette? Sure, he said, but I didnt think you smoked. He pulled the cigarette package from the pocket in his shirt and handed her one. Only when I clean house, she said. She hoped he wouldnt insist on holding the match for her like Bogart did in the movies. She wanted him to know from the start that she was not the kind of woman who liked the subservient attitude. When she and Will first met, he had protested the first few times she insisted on opening doors for herself and seating herself at restaurants, but he got over it once she made him realize that he was doing it more for himself than for her. It was his way of showing strangers that he had been reared properly and was a Southern gentleman.

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So you clean house when youre upset. My mother used to do that, too. He pulled the book of matches from his pocket. Who said I was upset? Well, I couldnt help but overhear earlier... And what business of that is yours? None. He tossed the matches to her underhanded. She caught them, then waited for a moment before lighting the cigarette, giving her hands time to stop shaking. He was the last person she wanted butting in on her businessespecially since he was part of the reason she and Will were fighting in the first place. She lit the cigarette and inhaled, and it nearly choked her. So, is law school all that brings you here? Yes, he said, his voice agitated. Then what connection do you have with Kurt Bledsole? Beth Ann waited for him to say that topic was none of her business. Ive never met the man. He stepped up another stair and sat on the concrete banister. But youve done some communicating with him, I assume. On the phone or by letter? Nope. Never heard of the man before today when Rachel came charging at me like a bull for something Nanna told her. So its not true, then. Nobody wants to buy this land and develop it into a hunting lodge? She cocked her head and raised her eyebrows, a gesture that worked very well with lying children.

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I didnt say that. You havent said too much of anything as far as I can tell. Beth Ann poured another glass of Bloody Mary, her hand now steady. Bledsoles contacted my father down in Louisiana, but my dads not any more interested in selling our land than you and Nanna seem to be. Ive spent the last hour or so trying to convince Rachel of that fact. Did you? Convince her? Enough for now, I reckon. Trust me, Ive got nothing to do with anything. I am caught in the middle here. Tell me about the middle. I live there. Beau pulled out a letter from his back pocket. Do you mind if I put this in your mailbox? Rachel doesnt have one, since she walks to the post office. I want to get this off on Monday. Sure. Beth Ann held out her hand, but he kept it. Thats okay. Ill put it in there. I need to be getting back anyway. Ive got a card date with Tommy. Poker? Yeah, right. Beau laughed. More like Go Fish or Old Maid. And believe you me, I dont want that old maid barreling down on me again. He nodded toward Rachels house, then shivered for emphasis. Rachels harmless, Beth Ann said, smiling at him. Nobody an ex-cop should be scared of anyway.

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Yeah, well, Ill come get you the next time she comes charging at me with that hand on her hip. Ill get you to do some of that psychological mumbo jumbo on her. Mumbo Jumbo? Is that anything like what you people in Louisiana call voodoo? Not at all, he said. He pulled another cigarette from his shirt pocket and searched his jeans for the matches. Voodoo is real. Oh, I see, Beth Ann said. She tossed him the matchbook. And should I tell you what I think about cops and lawyers? Beau held his hands up as if to surrender. Ive had all the confrontation I can handle for one day, thank you very much. Im going to go have myself one of those he said, pointing at the near empty pitcherexcept without the juice. He held the letter up as he walked to the mailbox, as if to prove to her that it was a letter and not a gun.

She didnt clean anything else that night, but by the time she made it over to Nannas house Robin was asleep. She stood at the bedroom door staring at Robin, wondering what she was dreaming, thinking of how it must feel to sleep in the same bed her stepmother had slept in when she was her age. She wondered if Robin liked staying with Nanna more than with her. It was a given that she would like the food better here, but was Nanna a better listener than Beth Ann? Had she become so entangled in her own part of the story that she had lost objectivity, or worse, lost sensitivity toward Robin?

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Shes a good kid, Nanna whispered. A little rough around the edges, but a good kid. Its so weird seeing her in my room. I know. It was like raising you all over again tonight. Made me feel young again. Nanna closed the door gently. Made me feel tired, too. She placed a hand on Beth Anns shoulder and led her to the kitchen. A stack of teacakes was piled in a mound in the middle of the table. Nanna poured two glasses of iced tea then sat down facing Beth Ann. Is she okay? Beth Ann asked. I think so. Did she talk to you? Shes having some worries with kids at school. I told her to just be strong one more week and things would be better next year. I think she might have to enroll in summer school. But shes so bright. Shes not turning in work on nights shes with Lana. You and Will should have custody of that girl. Any judge would say so. All Will needs to do is Please, Nanna. Im way too tired to talk about anything concerning Will or Lana. Nanna broke off a cookie and dunked it in her iced tea. I think Robin needs a boyfriend.

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Trust me, Nanna. Men are more often the problem than the cure. She looked out the window. Beau was walking away from her mailbox. It was getting darker now, and he seemed to disappear between the flashing lightning bugs. I think a little male attention would go a long way in building her confidence. And what happens when he dumps her for a cheerleader with blond hair and half a brain? Youre too young to be so cynical, Beth Ann. Yeah, well... At least she would know that once upon a time a boy like her. It will give her more confidence for next time. I dont think thats the answer, Nanna. It worked for you. You dated that Jeff boy for a while, and he broke your heart. And your point is? It gave you just enough confidence to be ready for Allen once he came along. Yeah, well, I was sixteen at the time. Robins not much younger than that, Nanna said. At some point the image of Robin at ten or twelve had frozen in Beth Anns mind. She couldnt fathom Robin as anywhere close to being old enough to date. She was so immature compared to herself at that age. Did Robin know what she had known at that age? Had she even kissed a boy? Had she learned to

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masturbate? If so, had it been a boy who showed her how, like Allen had shown her? You used to spit nails at anyone who got near you, you were so mad at your daddy for dying and your mother for leaving. Then you met Allen. When you were with him, you walked straighter and smiled all the time. He was a good diversion for you at a time when you needed it most. Yeah, well, all we need is another complication to deal with right now. Knowing Lana, shell steal this boyfriend away from Robin while shes not looking. Maybe its not for you to deal with. Maybe its something that Robin needs to experience for herself without it becoming a family ordeal. So what are we supposed to do? Take applications and interview? Ive got some friends just like me who have great-grandchildren. Well just put the two of them together at the same time, then let nature take it from there. Thats what Im afraid of... Well, as you always say, join the club. Youre about to learn what its like to worry about a teenager and what she does when youre not around. I got most of these gray hairs worrying about you all those nights you sneaked out of your room to meet Allen and do God knows what. You knew about that? About youre climbing out your window and onto the roof? About saying that you were spending the night with a friend only to sneak off with

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him? Nanna shook her head and raked the cookie crumbs off the table and into her hand. But you never said anything! Its not because I didnt want to, believe you me. Nanna stood and walked across the room. She dumped the crumbs into the garbage can, then took the dishcloth from the sink. Why didnt you? Beth Ann stood and walked to the sink. I cant believe you never said anything. Because I didnt want you to run away. I was the only person left in your life that you werent angry with. I wanted you to think you could always come to me. But what if Id gotten pregnant? Nanna twisted the dishcloth around her hand, tying a knot in her palm, then looked out the window. Then youd have a different life now. The words hit Beth Ann like a blow to the nose. A different life. Allen Terrell lived in Atlanta now. He owned his own business; had three kids of his own. She looked at her own house, dark and empty, in the same town, next door to her grandmother. There was no swing set in the back yard, no bicycles to block the drive. She worked in the same school she had attended, earning barely more than those who had stayed in Moundville and commuted to Tuscaloosathose who worked their way up as bankers, merchants, insurance salespeople. Im not saying I was the best parent in the world, because I wasnt. I was just lucky that Grady was around when your father was growing up. Nanna went

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back to the table and wiped it off with the rag, careful to get every crumb into her hand before it could reach the floor. I was driving in the dark with you, and I never wanted to do anything to lose you. She walked to Beth Ann and laid her hand on her shoulder. You see, you were all I had left, too. Beth Ann watched her silhouette in the window of her own house, how the light from Nannas kitchen shaped her image in the window next door. She had forgotten so much of her youth: the rages, the longing for a real family, the nights with Allen. Robin will be fine right here tonight. Why dont you go home and get some rest. Will will be home soon. Thats what Im afraid of, Beth Ann said. You cant fool me, Nanna said. You want him to come home, and you should. I know, hes a good man. And you are a wonderful, beautiful young woman. Well, then we all should be happy. Were all as happy as we allow ourselves to be, Nanna said. Didnt you learn anything from all those psychology classes out there in college?

Some time after the alarm clock flashed three red 3s, Beth Ann tried to take her mind off Will and where he might be by remembering one hot summer day in Tuscaloosa nearly twenty years earlier. She was eating a taco salad she had bought from Wendys and watching Allen play baseball, when Allens

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mother told her that people never forgot their first love. It was an odd thing to say, and it seemed unprovoked. Then she had stared off, past the outfield and into some place where her own first love still lived. Perhaps it was a warning, but it was too late. What could Beth Ann have done at that point? She was too far gone. She was already sneaking out her window where she and Allen would lie on the roof of the house, kissing, touching, and petting to the point of torture, praying they wouldnt get caught. Then sneaking off to the woods, and making love in the moonlight until they felt they both might die. Always aware of the dangers of pregnancy, but knowing they loved each other enough to marry if it happened, raise a kid in their own image. Drive his GTO until it would no longer run, then buy a house in the West far far away from Moundville. Make love under the desert sky until they were both old, and then die in each others arms. This was the only life she wantedthe only thing that would make her happy. Allens mothers words had haunted her nearly every day since. They rose up like a cartoon bubble over Wills head whenever he kissed her and she didnt feel what she had felt thena great ball of fire that churned in her belly and burned its way down to that place between her legs and throbbed there. Her words rang like a bell, ricocheting inside the bathroom every time her period came. Her words stuck in Beth Anns throat every time Robin reminded her that she was not her mother and never would be. Of all the things she had ever been told and all the lessons she had learned it was Mrs. Terrells offhand comment that she would never forget no matter how hard she tried.

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Maybe Nanna was right. Maybe she was scattered. Scattered like all the people she knew in high school. All gone, living somewhere else. And she was the one who wanted to leave. Scattered like her voice from her body those nights when she had to bite Allens shoulder to keep from screaming. Scattered like her heart from her head. Wanting, yet thinking it away. Thinking, yet wanting anyhow. There was safety in detachment. And there was unity in separation. How else could she have put her mind on hold and make herself enjoy Wills breath all over her body that night, around four a.m. when he finally slipped into bed? He smelled of cigar and brandy, but she blocked that out too, separating her nose from her body. She was already wet when he entered her, for she was far away, miles past outfields and highways, lying on top of a red butte in the desert staring at the stars and naming them like children. And when he was finished and left to get a wash cloth to clean up all the mess, she touched herself the way Allen had shown her those nights on the roof top, knowing from her books that the egg had a better chance of fertilizing if she had an orgasm. Then she raised her hips and placed a pillow beneath her, not wanting any sperm to escape its destination, lifting them toward the ceiling like a sacrifice to Kokopelli, the kachina of fertility.

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PART TWO: MESAS

CHAPTER EIGHT Wuwuchim Beth Ann came to Walpi, our little village on the First Mesa, at the end of November during Wuwuchim. It was the first of the three winter ceremonies, and it is one of the most important, because it represents the first phase of life. The Hawk moon had just begun to show its face when my cousin Bertha, who lives downstairs in Polacca and is the principal of the day school down there, drove up the mesa and told me a psychology student from Northern Arizona University wanted to intern here in Walpi. She wanted to interview the children, asking them about life on the reservation. We were busy then, gathering feathers and corn husks for making pahos, prayer sticks, so I told her no.

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On the eighth day of the rituals, just hours before the New-Fire Ceremony, Bertha came again saying that this woman was the real thing, and that I would not regret bringing her into the community. I told her that the roads would be closed in a few days, and there was no way we should let an outsider into the community at this time. Then I reminded her that since she lived on the east side of the reservation, she needed to be setting her table for the spirits and heading to the west side of the main plaza. The kachina spirits would be there soon from the San Francisco Peaks. At quiet times between the initiating of the children, my cousin blabbered on about Beth Ann, how she had studied the Hopi Way and how she could help the children adjust to their split liveslearning and practicing traditional Hopi principles while attending school in the modern world. I shook my head and watched the children get drenched with buckets of water, a symbol for the cleansing away of all wickedness. Later, they were brought to the kiva where my husband Hiram, chief of the Bear Clan, washed their hair with yucca suds. I looked around the kiva, wondering why there was so much room this time. Then I realized that there were only four of them. Four children in the four years since the last initiation. I remembered a time when there were so many children that we had to bring them in shifts, refilling the bowls time and time again. Now, only four. And most of them did not know the language. None lived on the mesas, each of them living with their parents, our children, below where they have electricity, running water, and television. Many didnt even visit

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anymore, playing school ball and driving into Flagstaff to shop at the K-Mart for shiny toys and electric games. We are dying out because we keep so many secrets, my daughter once told me. Maybe we should let the white people know about our way. If our children are so fascinated with their lives, isnt it only right to make our customs popular, so our children will feel special about having something to offer? I had stopped her then, angry at the idea of making it easy for those who had always brought such harm to our people over and over again. They are seeking something now, my daughter said. Something to fill their souls. You were the one who told me that the prophecy said it would be so. Arent they coming here, visiting our mesas now, because the prophecy predicted it? How can the supreme law of respect, harmony, and love be abided by if we never educate people of our peaceful way? I have always disliked it when my children use my own words to quarrel with me. Especially when they are good words, words I spoke at a time when I was closer to the Creators spirit. After the children had been taken by their godfathers to their own homes, and the drums beat announcing the dances, I told my cousin to let the woman come, but that she could not stay in that fancy hotel on the second mesa. She would stay with me, learning to live a life without all those fancy extras. This was the first lesson. I would treat her as my family, convinced that she would leave within the first week. I was almost correct. On the last night of the public dances, the Deer Kachina sought Beth Ann out and danced in front of her the whole time, leaning into the stick he carried

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and pounding it into the ground. I thought the girl was going to have a breakdown right there where she sat. The children laughed at her as she stood and tried to walk around him, only to find that he had run around and got back in front of her. Finally she did get by him and ran back to my house. It was not until much later that I realized why she was afraid. The day of the dance was the anniversary of her fathers death, November 22, a day that she will forever remember as the day her father died because she was telling him about a deer. Once I knew about this, I told my husband and the chief of the Deer Clan. The three of us sent out prayers for Beth Ann, hoping that the great deer spirit would stop haunting her. I do not know if our prayers were answered, but I do know that when she left, exactly one year to the day after she had arrived, and only hours before the last public dance of the Wuwuchim ceremony, I gave her a kachina doll in the image of the deer spirit. She hugged it close to her and cried, then hugged me so hard I felt my lungs might cave in. I cried too, feeling like I was losing my own daughter when she drove down the side of the mesa in that car of hers. My best days now are those when my cousin drives her little white car up the mesa then walks up the path to Walpi, waving a letter in her hand and smiling. She stands there and grins like a coyote, reminding me that she brought Beth Ann to Walpi, while I tear open the envelope. I take my letter with me as I walk back to my house, knowing that the greeting will begin as it always has: Dearest Hania: I miss you. And at the end, she will tell me she loves me and sign it with

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the name she received in Paria Canyon on the day of her dream vision: Hanovi Waitioma, meaning strong deer running.

Will was snoring before Beth Ann could roll over. She tried for forty-five minutes to lull herself to sleep, then got out of the bed and stepped into the shower. Her legs trembled from the Bloody Marys, so she leaned into the tiled wall letting the hot water flow over her. She began to cry. Her chest convulsed, but she made no sound. It was the only place she cried anymore, here with the hot water rinsing her tears before they fell and the sound of the shower drowning her sobs. And when there were no more tears, she would step out, dry off, and get on with her day. It was Sunday. She would not run today or make breakfast. She would eat breakfast with Nanna, then go with her to church. Their church. Since before they married Will had pestered her to attend church with him. At least go with me on the Sundays you dont have services at your church, he pleaded. Nevertheless, she was steadfast. The preacher at Second Baptist, Wills church, was a holy man in the loosest sense of the word. A gossip was more like it. His style of preaching was a social hour recognizing birthdays, anniversaries, and upcoming fund-raising events peppered with prayer requests for individuals who had backslided into sin. We need to remember Brother Kyle and Sister Ann who need to come back into your fold, Dear Lord. Help them to know that marriage is a sacred institution ordained by you...

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The church Beth Ann and Nanna attended was the oldest in all of Hale County and was only a few feet away from their front door. The Havana Methodist Church was part of a circuit, where the minister alternated Sundays with another small church a few miles away in Greensboro. They only had church every other Sunday, and their enrollment was never more than twelve. Nanna, Beth Ann, Rachel, Tommy, Werdner (the groundskeeper), and Brother Martin and his wife were the only regulars, though others showed up from time to time. After she combed her hair, dressed in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, and made tea it was still dark outside. She sat in the window seat in the living room and stared at her own reflection. The Hopi believe in three phases of dawn: the purple time when the shape of a person can first be outlined; the yellow light which shows a persons breath, and the red glow in which a person can proudly reveal the fullness of creation. It is the circle of life, the beginning of a new journey with each day. Beth Ann closed her eyes and promised herself that today would be a new journey. She would allow the darkness of yesterday to lift from her, as the night was that minute being erased by Qoyangnuptu, the first phase of dawn. She sipped her cassina tea and leaned her head against the window. You couldnt sleep either? Will stood in the doorway in his boxer shorts, raking his fingers through his hair. You sounded like you were sleeping when I got up. I dont feel like Ive slept a moment. Wheres Robin? I just checked her room and she wasnt there.

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Shes at Nannas. I shouldnt have left here without telling her. No, you shouldnt have. Beth Ann sipped her tea and looked out the window. She was certainly not going to make the whole morning-after routine any easier on him than she had to. Ill go over there directly and iron it all out, he said. Is that coffee you made? Tea. He nodded then looked around as if hoping to find a coffeepot somewhere in the living room, then padded to the sofa and sat. Old Whats His Name is doing a pretty decent job on Rachels house. He nodded at the window. Its amazing what hes done since he got here, though I dont reckon hes been studying much. Beau, Beth Ann said. His name is Beau. Thats right. Beth Ann pulled her knees up to her chin. A faint light shone in the middle bedroom next door. Probably a night light for Tommy. She guessed that Beau slept in the front bedroom directly across from the window she was sitting in. The room was dark, his window reflecting her own white house. Look, Beth Ann, I went to see Bledsole last night... So thats where the brandy and the cigars came from.

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You dont miss a beat. He walked over to the window seat and sat beside her, pulling her feet into this lap. I dont think youll be hearing anything else about the hunting venture. I told him how we stand on that. And hows that? I told him Nanna didnt want to sell the land, and she didnt want you selling ours either. End of story. And hes okay with that. I guess he has to be, doesnt he? You cant buy what people arent selling. He massaged her feet. Everythings going to be fine. Good, she said. She had cried out all the anger in the shower and watched it gurgle down the drain. Then, as easily as coating herself with baby oil, she had slipped on a coat of indifference. With each coat a new shield. With each shield less feeling. She imagined herself someday walking around with skin like leather and nothing inside. Ive also been thinking, Will said, about my...condition, and I think I need to see a specialist in Birmingham. Ive heard that they have an infertility clinic there thats cutting edge. Maybe I should see them instead of the doctor in Tuscaloosa. Beth Ann nodded, but said nothing, thinking she should have put on two coats of indifference this morning. Ill call tomorrow. He pulled her foot to his mouth and kissed the top of it. Does that sound good to you? She nodded and forced a smile. We had

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ourselves some pretty good practice last night, though. He kissed her leg from her ankle to her knee. A light flickered on in Rachels front bedroom. Why dont you get dressed so we can go to Nannas for breakfast, Beth Ann said. She stood, throwing Will off balance in the window seat. Robin will be worried about you. She searched the house for her sandals, looking under the sofa and in the closets while Will dressed near the bed. The firm is taking a few clients down to the coast Memorial Day weekend to do some deep sea fishing. Are you going? Beth Ann sat on the bed across from Will and pulled on her sandals. Id like to. The wives are going too. Theyre going to check out the stores, do some shopping. Do you want to go? I dont think so. I think youd have a good time. Shopping and talking about name brands and the people who either do or do not wear them is not my idea of a good time. I dont have anything in common with those women. And I certainly dont care to be around Kurt and Donna Bledsole if I dont have to. Okay, you dont have to. I just thought it would be good for us to get into some kind of social routine together. Nobody ever sees us together. The words were on the edge of her tongue, slicing like a blade: Thats because youre usually with Lana. Maybe some other time, she said, but you go ahead. Im sure youll have a good time.

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It was the quietest breakfast in the history of pancakes. Nanna made chitchat, but no one answered her, only grunting between bites. Robin wondered if Beth Anns puffy eyes meant she had been crying. Shed never seen Beth Ann cry. Somehow crying didnt fit her. Her father seemed tired, yawning between bites and slurping his coffee. No one noticed that Robin wasnt speaking to them.

Her dads car was parked behind Beth Anns house when she woke up. Nanna must have noticed it, too. She had made enough pancakes to feed the Army. The only good thing about everyone getting to bed so late was that shed probably not have to go to church. Ordinarily she liked going to church, not because she liked preaching or the singing, but because it was the only time during the week that she had her dad all to herself. Her mother never went at all, and Beth Ann attended that one-room shack down the road, making Robin the only one he could depend on Sunday after Sunday. Hed hold her hand sometimes when the preacher prayed and passed her mints between hymns. It was hard to stay mad at him at church, and that was exactly why she didnt want to go today. She didnt want him nudging her with his elbow when Mr. Bailey began to snore, and she didnt want him holding the hymnal for her while they sang. She was mad, and she determined to stay that way. Do you have a dress for church? her father asked. He wiped his mouth and pushed back his chair.

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No, sir. Good. That would be the end of that. Ill take you by the house so you can throw on something. I dont want to go today. She couldnt believe hed make her. Not after hed been so mean to her last night, leaving her in the back yard like a dog chained to the tree. I dont feel good. Youll feel better once you get moving. He stood up and walked over to her chair. Im not going. Oh, yes you are. Up and at it. She didnt budge, but he pulled out her chair and walked toward the door. She stomped her foot, then jumped up so fast she knocked over the chair. Beth Ann jumped, spilling her milk all over the table. Nanna scrambled for the paper towels then dabbed them around the edges of the table to keep the milk from dripping onto the floor. Calm down, Robin, Beth Ann said, dabbing the milk from her lap. I dont need you telling me what to do. I have a father and a mother, thank you. Ill thank you to shut your mouth, young lady, her dad said. And you apologize to Beth Ann this minute. Yeah, right. Its always me who has to apologize. You all treat me like crap and Im the one always having to say Im sorry. Im sorry all right. Im sorry I have to live with you people! Her father grabbed her arm and jerked her

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around so fast it made her dizzy. Her feet barely touched the ground as he whisked her out the back door and down the stairs. Get in the car! he yelled. And shut your mouth. She slammed the car door so hard that the cassette tapes rattled in the console. I hate you! she whispered between her clenched teeth. Yeah, well, thats the least of my problems, he said. Tell it to the preacher when you go up for communion. His car slung gravel turning around in the drive. They were almost turned around when she saw Beau cleaning out the old shed behind his house. He wasnt going to church. He probably didnt own one pair of dress pants. That was the life. He waved at her and she waved back, making sure her Dad saw her do it. It would make him angry to know that someone who didnt go to church was friendly with her. Shed tell Beau all about the way her Daddy grabbed her this morning, and maybe hed be so pissed, hed come charging across the driveway and punch Will Morgan out. That would make him think twice about bullying her around.

Her mother wasnt home. No big surprise there. Her father went around gathering bottles and cans and throwing them into the garbage can, shaking his head and huffing with each one. Robin took her time dressing, hoping hed give up in disgust and leave her. Every dress she tried on was too tight, gaping between buttons or hiking up in the wrong places. She had eaten too many pancakes and now her stomach hurt, but the Im-too-sick-to-go-to-church routine had already failed. She settled on a white cotton dress shed bought for Easter. It

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had a short-sleeved jacket that covered most of her chest. Then she scrounged around for her shoes, looking under the bed and in the closet. Her mother must have borrowed them without telling her. They were probably kicked off near some mans bed right about now. Lets go, Robin. Were already late. I cant find my shoes, she said, breaking her vow of never speaking to him again. Grab some other ones and lets go. He walked into her bedroom and opened her closet. Here. Wear these. He lifted a pair of pink shoes she hadnt worn since the seventh grade. They dont match. She walked to her mothers room hoping to find her white ones. Youre wearing white. Everything matches with white. Please, she said. Heres a pair, he yelled from her room. Robin searched her mothers closet. All the shoes had high heels. Shed probably fall and kill herself in them. Put these on and lets go. Her dad held out a pair of plastic shoes she only wore with her shorts or jeans. Im wearing these. She pulled out the pair closest to her. They were gold sandals with three-inch heels. Fine. Lets go. She climbed onto the shoes as if she was stepping up on a curb, then took small steps to keep her balance. It was like wearing toe shoes. Her dad was in the

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car and had it cranked by the time she wobbled down the back stairs. He shook his head and revved the engine. She resolved at that moment never to speak to him again, no matter what happened.

Beau searched the shed for a fan, any kind of fan that would work. Hed spent the night suffocating and tossing from side to side hoping to get the least bit of relief from the heat. Two of the three windows in his room were painted shut, and the third one was blocked from any breeze by Beth Anns house. Earlier, hed tried to force open one of the other windows, but he had seen her there sitting in her window seat and decided against it. Her hair was wet and slicked back. Maybe she had been for a swim down at the reservoir. She held her knees up to her chin and rocked. This was not a happy woman. Wills car was back, parked behind the house. Maybe he was smarter than Beau gave him credit for. He watched her for a minute, then decided to move on. There would be plenty of time to see her today while he was cleaning out the shed. Later, while Rachel fried eggs in a skillet, she asked Beau if hed like to attend church with Tommy and her. He nearly laughed. He hadnt been to church since before his mother died. In fact, the last time he went, he was baptized. His mother hadnt wanted to die not knowing her son was safe for eternity. The preacher asked him repeatedly if knew what he was doing and Beau nodded each time, lying. Hed gone along with the charade, hoping to make his mothers last days a little more peaceful, not really caring whether he went to

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heaven or hell when he died. Life on earth without his mother, he supposed, would be enough hell to last a lifetime. Im not much of a church goer, he told Rachel. But thanks for asking anyway. Well, I hope youre not going to work today...on the Lords day. She flipped the eggs onto his plate then stepped back for an answer. Ive got to work when I can. Theres lots to be done around here. Id rather you not, she said, walking away. Why? Would it embarrass her for the neighbors to see her heathen nephew working on the Sabbath? What was he supposed to do on this official day of rest? Read a newspaper? Gossip with Rachel in the kitchen about people he didnt know? The thought of sitting around the house watching television with Tommy depressed him. He had to keep himself busy to keep from going stir crazy...at least until school started, and hed have to start studying every spare minute of the day. Oh, my. Im running late, Rachel said. She dropped the dirty skillet into the sink and rushed around. And I havent even started getting Tommy ready. Ill help Tommy, Beau said. He put his plate of eggs into the microwave and downed the last of his coffee. Just show me what he needs to wear and Ill get him squared away. Are you sure? Beau nodded.

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Tommy was watching Bugs Bunny, laughing and picking his nose. Rachel directed Beau to the closet and pulled out a suit and a clip-on bow tie. His underwear is in the top drawer of the dresser along with his dress socks. And his shoes are right here. Beau took the suit and hung it on the doorknob, then laid out the underwear and the socks. Tommy, Beaus going to help you get dressed. She walked in front of Tommy and turned off the television. Tommy mumbled and rocked back and forth. No, he said. Bugs Bunny. Bugs Bunny! Youve got to get dressed right now. Well be late for church. Bugs Bunny come back. He reached for the television, but she blocked him. Its all right, Rachel. You go ahead and get dressed. Tommy and Ill get it done. All right, she said. Her voice was hesitant, as if she were leaving a chicken for the wolves. Beau wondered which one she thought him to be. She walked out of the room looking back. Dont worry, Beau said. Ive got a lot of experience in negotiations. She nodded and smiled, then hurried down the hall toward her own bedroom. All right, Tommy. Beau walked to the television where Tommy had taken advantage of Rachel and his conversation and had turned the television back on. Im gonna make you a deal. It looks like your mother might take a while, doing all that girl stuff to get ready, so it seems to me that if you and I get busy

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and get you dressed real quick like, you can watch Bugs Bunny until she gets ready to drag you out of here for church. Tommy looked up at him for the first time. Sound like a good deal to you? Good deal, he said, then went back to watching the television. All right, Beau said. Lets get moving. He turned off the volume of the television, but kept the picture on. Tommy allowed Beau to dress him, occasionally making eye contact and repeating his words. Beau almost didnt clip on the tie, thinking it was too cruel of a thing to do to any male past the age of five, but he did it anyway. Then, when Tommy tugged on it, Beau told him to wait until he was at church to take it off. She wont be paying attention then. Itll be easier to get away with it. Beau laughed and Tommy mocked him. When Tommy was dressed, Beau took him to the bathroom and told him to brush his teeth. Tommy brushed his lips and each individual tooth. Then Beau combed his hair. Hold on a minute, here, Beau said. Ive got something you need. He went back to his room and pulled out his razor and shaving cream. Does your mother usually do this? he asked Tommy, knowing full well that if she didnt trust him with the food in the cabinets she wouldnt trust him with a razor. Tommy nodded. You mind if I do it this morning? Tommy jutted out his chin and puckered his lips. He shaved Tommy without a nick.

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Rachel walked into the bathroom and kept saying, I just cant believe this... Tommy had ten minutes to watch Bugs Bunny before Rachel told him that Nanna and Beth Ann were waiting in the driveway to walk with them. You all go to the same church? Beau asked. He looked out he kitchen window and waved at Beth Ann and Nanna. Beth Ann had on a cotton sundress that came down to her ankles where she wore a shiny gold anklet. Her hair was down around her shoulders and so shiny in the sun that it almost looked blue. Always have. We go to the little church where your mothers buried. Beau followed Rachel and Tommy out the back door. Good morning, Nanna said to him at the driveway. She wore a fancy dress and thick stockings, but still wore her everyday shoes. She held a newspaper in one hand and a Bible, old and thick with well-used pages, in the other. You ladies sure do look nice this morning, he said, careful to look at Nanna. Well you ought to join us, Nanna said. Wed love to have you. I just might do that one Sunday, he said, looking at Beth Ann. Beau helped me get Tommy ready this morning, Rachel said. Well, he sure does look handsome, Beth Ann said. You boys work well together. She smiled at Tommy then at Beau. Tommy tugged at his bow tie.

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Nanna handed Rachel the newspaper. Rachel nodded and turned to go back into the house. Ill just put this away, she said. Ill be right back. Nanna brushed dandruff off Tommys lapel while Beth Ann and Beau walked on ahead of them. How are you feeling this morning? Beau asked Beth Ann. Tommy kicked the gravel behind them trying to catch up. A little unsteady, she said, smiling. I should have stopped drinking when you left. Did you take some hair this morning from that dog that bit you? What, on a Sunday morning before church? She smiled at him, shielding her eyes from the sun. Dog, bite you? Tommy asked, walking up behind Beth Ann. No, Tommy. Beaus just being silly. Beaus silly. He laughed and pulled on his tie. Remember what I told you about that thing, Beau said. Wait till church, Tommy said. Then Id lose it on the way home, if I were you. Tommy laughed. Lose the tie! he yelled. Shh... Beau said, putting his finger to his lips. Dont give away our secret. Secret, he said, whispering. Ive got a secret! He ran back to Nanna and Rachel and pulled on Rachels arm telling her he and Beau had a secret. Rachel looked back at Beau and raised her eyebrows.

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Looks like youve made a friend, Beth Ann said. Yeah, well, were real compatible, Tommy and me. Beth Ann smiled. A great smile. He loved her smile. It wasnt like any of those models or beauty pageant queens who contorted their lips into the upright position while their eyes were still dull. Her whole face smiled. Or maybe her smile came from inside and shone through her like a light through paper. Well, this is where I stop, he said at the end of the driveway. Maybe you can come with us week after next, she said. Its real informal. What, I cant wear my bow tie? You can borrow Tommys, she said. Ill be sure and walk behind him on the way home and retrieve it for you. You do that, he said. She waved at him before joining the others. Tommy had waited for her, and when she reached him, she put her hand on his shoulder and whispered something into his ear. Tommy turned around and pulled off the tie, holding it into the air and laughing.

Robin refused to sing, ignoring the hymnal her father held out for her. Instead, she stood with her arms crossed over her chest. An old lady sitting behind them was singing off key in her unsteady voice. Brandi and company sat up front. The youth group, they called themselves. Robin called them the clique from hell. They took up a whole row, sitting there in their sleeveless sun dresses, each looking alike with their shared hair bows, nail polish, and lipstick. They

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passed notes during prayer, their heads moving from left to right except to glance back at the older boys who sat behind them and pulled their hair during the singing. Sometimes Robin wished the preacher would stop in the middle of the sermon and point his finger at them, saying: Brandi Coshatt! You and your little pug-nosed friends are going to hell for all the talking and note-passing you do in Gods house! Then they would all turn to pillars of salt like that woman in the Bible. She could just see them there, frozen like statues with their mouths wide open and their hands in the air. Love thy neighbor as thyself, the preacher said. And who is our neighbor? Every living, breathing... Robin tuned him out. The last thing she wanted to hear was that she was supposed to love Brandi Co...shit, or so she liked to call her. But if she was supposed to love her like she loved herself, that wasnt all that much. Besides, if God wanted her to love everyone, then why didnt he say everyone? He said neighbor. Neighbors she didnt mind loving. She loved Nanna, and she could easily love Beau if hed let her. The preacher blabbered on, so she did what she always did when she was bored in church. She turned to II Samuel, Chapter 11 and began to read. She found it by accident one Sunday a while back when she was flipping though her Bible looking for a piece of gum. David sins with Bathsheba, the title said. It was about a king named David who saw a married woman named Bathsheba bathing outside. She was very beautiful, so he sent someone to get her and he went to bed with her. Later, she got pregnant and sent word to David. So then

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David, who was, after all, the king sent this womans husband to the war on the front line so he would be killed, so he could be with Bathsheba. It was juicy stuff for the Bible. Her dad held out a roll of mints for her. She shook her head and crossed her arms back over her chest. She closed her Bible so he wouldnt notice what she was reading, then saw herself, much thinner and with blonde hair, bathing in a pond. From the top of a building nearby she saw Beau with his binoculars. Then Brandi, her personal maid, came to her, telling her that a really good-looking guy wanted her to come to his house. Shed step out of the pond and Brandi would put a sheet around her. Then she would go to him and they would make love in his bed. Hed tell her how beautiful she was, and how hed waited all his life to find someone just like her. She shifted in the pew, feeling herself getting wet down there from all the excitement. That had been happening a lot lately. Just part of growing up, she supposed. Then something didnt feel right. She was too wetoozing wet. She shifted again, this time lifting up in her seat a little. The air rushed cold beneath her. Something was wrong. But it wasnt time. Or was it? The sore breasts...the bloating...the stomach ache. How could she have been so unprepared? So stupid? She was wearing white, of all things. There was no way she could go to the restroom. That would mean walking past that group in the front. What if she already had a spot on the back of her dress? She raised up in her seat and pulled her dress up, hoping the blood would seep into the pew rather than her dress. Only the janitors and the old lady behind

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her would notice the pew; everyone would notice her dress. She could see Brandi and her friends now, covering their mouths and giggling, pointing it out to the older boys so that they would never, even in their most desperate moments, ask her for a date, much less speak to her. Theyd probably laugh at her when she walked down the hall at school. Whats wrong with you, her dad whispered. She tried to make the blood stop flowing, but it wouldnt. She wished she could do something, anything. She wished she had a cork. She wished she were dead. Maybe, if she was lucky, she hadnt started her period, but was hemorrhaging to death. At least if she died, she wouldnt be around for the embarrassment. Be still, her dad said. I cant. What do you mean you cant? Just do it. But Ive... She looked behind her. The old lady was giving her the evil eye. She would have told her to hush had her dad not been there. Robin reached up to her father, whispering into his ear. Ive started my period. He turned white. Can you make it to the restroom? he asked, whispering a little too loudly. No. Is it bad? Yeah.

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He glanced at his watch then looked around. She wondered if the woman was giving him the evil eye too. He looked up at the preacher then back at her, then took off his coat. Here, he said, put this on. She did what he said, wondering if it was big enough to hide the spot; wondered if she ought to tie it around her waist instead. At least this way people might think she was just cold. Cold in ninety degree weather. She looked to the front, wondering if people were already watching, wondering if the preacher might stop his sermon and tell her and her dad to quiet down. Im going to stand up and step out into the aisle, her father said. Once you get up, Ill be right behind you. Walk to the car as fast as you can. She nodded, wondering if their disruption would cause everyone to look. She was glad her dad was so tall, so big. Maybe, if he aligned himself just right, they wouldnt see her. She hoped all the pounding of her heart wasnt making her bleed more. On three, he said, looking around. One, two... he jumped up and stood at the end of the pew, smiling at the woman behind them and nodding. Robin scooted as far as she could, then slid out. Her dad was so close to her that the toes of his feet scraped her heelsheels so high that she walked as if she was drunk. If people didnt know better, they might mistake her for her mother, toddling down the aisle with Will Morgan right behind her, hiding one of her messes.

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CHAPTER NINE Kyamuya My husband, Hiram Lomauhie, is chief of the Bear Clan, the spiritual leader of all three mesas. He is hard in his ways because he has to be. He is the only elder left who still believes that the old way is the only way. He does not

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believe in outsiders, so it took some convincing on my behalf to get him to accept Beth Ann. Letting her stay with us was my decision, since Hopi females own the houses and everything in them. When I die the house and its contents will go to my daughter. And so on. The men admit that even the children are ours, since we take care of them and teach them inside the homes we own. The fields, though divided according to the number of children in the family to work them, belong to the men. If a woman doesnt have children, the family has no field and must rely on other kin to provide for them. My husband did not want Beth Ann in our home. There are secrets, he said, that only the Bear chief knows. And you want her to learn them? He walked in anger, kicking dust around with his sneakers, jamming his hands on his hips. You have lost your head, Woman! I have made my decision, and she is here. If you want to keep your secrets, then take them to the kiva where they belong. I know where they belong, and I do not need your help. Fine, I told him. But remember this. You are the leader not just because you are of the Bear clan, but because you married me. A bear chief without a Parrot Clan woman, is just another bear. You are getting mean as your hair goes gray. And you are closing that door in the top of your head because of your fear. I watched him walk around the house, pacing like a wolf around gated sheep. He mumbled to himself and shook his fists. I went back inside and tried to

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assure Beth Ann that he would come around. If he doesnt, Ill just make him sleep somewhere else. By late December, during Kyamuya, he was in the house sitting around the stove telling her his stories. Kyamuya is the storytelling monththe time when it was safe to tell the old stories. According to Hopi tradition, one must never tell stories in the summer months. A rattlesnake will bite anyone breaking this rule. One is only safe to tell stories in the winter, when the ground is frozen and the snakes, cold blooded, cannot move fast enough to strike. He told Beth Ann that his old stories were sacred, and each time he told her a story he was giving her a gift. She repaid each story with a gift back to him. Many times she told him stories from her own life, stories about Nanna or her grandfather, stories about the children she taught. Many times they discussed how children have changed and how it is up to the teachers, both tribal and governmental, to teach the children respect. At Christmas, she wrote the story down about her father in a book that was already bound. She spent hours and hours writing down all she remembered and how she felt about losing him. Before she left to go home for Christmas holidays, she gave it to Hiram, wrapped in corn husks and willow reeds. It is the oldest, most secret story I know, she said when she handed it to him.

Beau couldnt stand being alone with himself without something to keep his mind occupied. He didnt know how other people did it, how they could sit for long periods in one place, drinking coffee and thinking. How did they put it all

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behind them? How did they shut off the voices, the screams? How did they erase the scenes in their minds that played like a bad movie? When he had lived alone, he bought a dog so hed never have to come home to an empty house. When he did come home, he always turned on the television first thing, rarely watching it but needing it for the noise. Sleep was another matter. He had to get up early and work hard to lie down at night and let it all slip away. Otherwise, hed be up all night, his body too tired to get out of the bed, his brain too busy to shut down. When all else failed, Jack Daniels was under his bed. He could always drink until he passed out. He wasnt proud of this practice, but he had to go with what worked. After they had all left for church, he cleaned up the kitchen, scrubbing the skillet and wiping off the counters. Then he piddled around, stirring the roast in the crock-pot and peeling the potatoes Rachel had laid out. When he had finished peeling them and rinsing them with warm water, he looked for something to put the peels in so he could take them out to the garbage. He shook the water from his hands and reached for the newspaper on the table, doubting Rachel would miss the sports section. Trying not to get wet fingerprints on the paper, he pulled the rubber band away from the bundle with his teeth. When the band rolled to the end of the paper, it snapped him in the mouth. He dropped the papers and swore. The sections fanned out and covered the floor. He wiped his hands on his jeans then bent down, pulling them all together. Then he saw the check. It was made to the order of Rachel LeFoy for four hundred dollars and signed by Rose Lavender. In the left bottom corner it read: for June. Why would

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Nanna be giving Rachel money? Did she write a check and hide it in the paper every time she had brought one over? But why? A sound in the drive startled him. He stacked the newspaper the best he could and placed the check on the top. Then he rolled it back up and slipped the rubber band around it. When he had dropped the newspaper back onto the table, he stepped back from the window and watched as a car approached. It was Wills car. Beau looked at his watch: 11:30. Robin jumped out of the car, slamming the car door and running into the house. She wore a mans suit coat, and she was inside before the screen door was fully open. Will sat there for a few minutes, as if he were waiting for her to come back. Then he stepped out of the car. He looked around the yard then at his house, but did not make a move, leaning instead on the side of the car. He ran his fingers through his hair, then shook his head. After a while, he rolled up his white shirtsleeves and began picking up limbs out of the yard and throwing them into the woods. The more he threw, the harder he threw them. Then he stopped and sat down on the well cover that Beau had seen Beth Ann stand on, stretching before she ran that second day he was there. Will dropped his face into his hands and watched the ground. He was still sitting that way when Beth Ann and the others walked down the driveway returning from church, laughing at something one of them had said before they got to the end and saw Will crouched on the concrete slab like a pitcher who had just lost the World Series. Rachel and Tommy came toward the house. Beau gathered the potato peelings and carried them across the room to the garbage.

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Whats this? Rachel asked, looking around. Just thought Id help, he said. Tommy held out his bow tie. She said give you this, he said, pointing out the window to Beth Ann. Whats up with Will? Beau said. He looks like hes lost his best friend. I dont rightly know, Rachel said, but hes always under a lot of pressure with his job and all... Beth Ann was crouched down beside him now, shaking her head and patting him on the back. Nanna bent over, positioning herself to hear. Then, after more head shaking by all of them, Beth Ann kissed Will on the cheek and walked into the house. Whatever was bothering him was now bothering Beth Ann, too.

There were times when Beth Ann wished she were a chemist or a veterinarian. Dealing with people and their problems was not an easy task. Especially when the person who needed the most help was the person who would take advice from anyone but her. She knocked on Robins door. There was no response. When she knocked again, Robin told her to go away. Beth Ann opened the door. She lay on her bed, still wet from a shower and wearing Wills bathrobe. Your dad told me what happened. Beth Ann sat on the side of the bed beside Robin. Are you okay?

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I didnt bleed to death if thats what you mean. I can see that, Beth Ann said. But how are you feeling? I know it was an awful experience. How? Has it ever happened to you? She didnt look at Beth Ann for a response, but then added: I didnt think so. It sounds like your dad helped you get out of what could have been a really embarrassing situation. Robin did not respond. Hes really concerned about you. Id like to be alone now, Robin said. She rolled over and faced the wall opposite of Beth Ann. We just want to help you, Robin. You can help me by going away. I dont need a shrink. You know, youre always reminding me that Im not your mother and thats okay, because I dont want to be. But is there anything wrong with letting me be your friend? Not if friends hate each other. The words smacked Beth Ann so much, that she couldnt speak for a moment, the hurt stinging her. Finally, she stood and walked to the door. I dont think youre in the position right now to be turning down offers of friendship. There was more that she could say, but she restrained herself. She resolved that things were going to change, whether Will liked it or not. It was one thing not to be loved, but she deserved respect. She had worked too hard, swallowed her pride too many times to be hated.

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Can I please be alone now, Robin said her voice shaky. Leave your dress on the washing machine and Ill take care of it. She pulled the door to behind her, then sat on the floor in the hall until she felt she could talk to Will without sounding angry.

I think Robin is clinically depressed, she told Will. He sat at the table drinking a beer. The Sunday newspaper lay scattered about. What does a fourteen-year-old have to be depressed about? He folded the paper and set it aside. I know today was bad, but Shes failing English. And some of the girls at school have been harassing her. Who? Frank Coshatts girl. A few others. What kind of harassment? He said the word sarcastically, as if he didnt believe in it. Someone put a dead bird in her locker. One of the teachers saw Robin find it and told me about it. Why on earth would anybody do something like that? He leaned forward in his chair. Birds of prey. Whats that supposed to mean? Shes a target, the weakest in the flock. She sat down in the chair across from him and pushed the newspaper aside.

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Why havent you told me about this before? When, Will? When exactly was I supposed to tell you this? Lets not start that tired old subject, he said. Weve got Robin to think about. Yes we do, Beth Ann said. She leaned toward him with her hands flat on the table. Maybe we should start by re-defining the roles around here, clear up the confusion. You could start by cutting ties with her mother. I dont see anything confusing about my taking care of her mother. If anything, she should appreciate that. Will stood and paced the kitchen. Maybe we all need to see someone for family counseling. It had needed to be said for months, years probably, but no one would say it. She had hinted at it once, saying that adjustments like theirs sometimes required an outside mediator, but Will insisted that their love for each other and their love for Robin would suffice. You think its come to this...that we cant talk to each other ourselves. I just think if were going to try and function like a family, we need family counseling. Thats all. She straightened the newspaper and stacked it in a neat pile. I wont have her talking to me the way she has been lately, and youre the one who needs to correct her. So I can be the bad guy, he said, huffing. No, she said, standing. So you can be the father.

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All right, he said, holding up his hands and nodding his head. Youre right. Dont do that, she said, gritting her teeth. What? Agree with you? Dont dismiss me and smooth it all over. He shook his head. It seems to me that the harder I try, the worse things get. He walked to the refrigerator and opened the door, looking inside but retrieving nothing. Sometimes I wonder why I bother. The telephone rang, but before Beth Ann could answer it, she heard Robin talking in the other room. Maybe you spend so much time trying to fix things that cant be fixed, that you dont see when other things are breaking, she said. He slumped, leaning more weight on the refrigerator door. Robin walked into the kitchen. She had changed into jeans and an oversized T-shirt. Thats Mom on the phone, she said, looking at Will as if she had punched him in the stomach and was responsible for his slouching. He nodded. Robin looked to Beth Ann as if to ask her what she should do. She wants me to come home. Ill take you, he said, but you need to remind her that Im going out of town next weekend,

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Robin nodded. There was something in the way she looked at Beth Ann that told her she was sorry for what she said, so Beth Ann nodded at her and patted her on the back as Robin turned to leave.

After lunch, Beau tried his hardest not to work outdoors. He helped clear away the dishes, and even sat down for a few minutes with Tommy at the television set. He read the classifieds, then rearranged his bedroom. Then, after he locked his bedroom door with the skeleton key Rachel had given him, he took out the strong box and opened it, laying out its contents, then opening the file. He kept the black and white photos face down and organized them by the numbers scribbled in a grease pencil on the back. He felt the weight of the autopsy report, but did not read it, because he knew it by heart. Jane Doe. Raped vaginally. Strangled with three-quarter inch nylon rope. High alcohol level in the bloodstream. Traces of heroin. Butterfly tattoo on left shoulder. He closed his eyes and saw the suns reflection off Lake Pontchartrain, glaring white in his eyes. The uniformed officers talking about how sick the world was getting. The girl spread eagle on a picnic table wearing only a pair of high-heeled shoes. A girl with blond hair and a tattoo. A girl who looked, when he pulled the sheet off her face, exactly like the woman he married over fourteen years before and hadnt seen one day since. She had aborted the baby, her parents told him then, so there wouldnt be any messes--any loose ends. It would be better that way, they said. That way she could go on with her life, and he could move with his.

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When he threw up on the side of the hill, all the other detectives thought he was getting soft. And when he took what the lieutenant called an unhealthy interest in finding the runaways next of kin, they reassigned him. When the girls mother reported him to the chief, saying he was harassing her, they put him back on desk duty. And when he continued to chase down leads in the case even though it was no longer his assignment, they made him take a vacation. Then, when he spent more time drinking in the locker room and less time taking burglary reports, they sent him to the Internal Affairs shrink, who encouraged him to find another line of work. Then the mayor arranged law school for him. Neat and tidy. Nobody got hurt, they said. Except, he reminded them, the girl he knew, without having ever met her, to be his daughter. Now, with it all laid out before him, he looked for a missing clue. If only he could turn one of the photos in a different angle, so it would fit. He had always been the best at solving the unsolvable. Thats why he was promoted so many times in so few years. Detectives would have pored over the same scene dozens of times, swearing there was nothing to find, only to have Beau walk in and see it from the door. It was his gift, the fortuneteller on Bourbon Street once told him, to look at things and see them not as they are, but as they should be. You find answers to the impossible because you are a looker, she said. You take photographs with your brain. He had shrugged and walked away, handing her a ten dollar bill so she could get her next fix, hoping he would not find her on a curb one day, used up and wasted like an old soda bottle. How hard it must be,

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she had yelled to him as he turned the corner, to get those photographs out of your head. Beau put the photographs back into the file and shoved it into the box. There was nothing else to find, no different ways of seeing it. There would be no explanation until there was a confession some day, probably decades from now, when a prisoner would tell his cell mate what he had done years ago to a runaway girl from Louisiana who hated her mother and stepfather and who had never even met her father. Hed tell his cell mate how this girl, longing to get approval from a man, any man, trusted him with her life and ended up splayed on a picnic table by the banks of Lake Pontchartrain on a sunny, December morning. He used to cry about it, sobbing all night and drinking all day. Hed even cried when he told the departmental shrink about it, not caring what the man thought about him, not giving a rats ass if he lost his job. Now that there was nothing else to lose, he found he couldnt cry about it, or anything else for that matter. He wondered if hed ever cry again. Sometimes he went over nightmarish scenarios in his mind, yet nothing moved him. He kept out the letter his father had written to his dead mother, wondering if that would move him. It didnt. The words were empty: I love you. I miss you. I wish I had told you...I worry sometimes... Beau folded the letter and put it on his night stand. He would take it tomorrow and plant it in the soil of his mothers grave. Compost at best, but maybe something meaningful could grow from it. At least it would make his father feel better, thinking that somehow his

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dead wife would feel better up there in heaven knowing that he was learning how to communicate, albeit late and ineffective. The letter in Beth Anns mailbox had been addressed to Sothebys. Hed taken his flashlight with him and looked at it while hed been pretending to leave a letter of his own. But his was fakejunk mail tossed by Rachel. Sothebys Auction House in New York. She was bidding on the Kennedy estate. Had to be. Thats all hed heard about on his drive up from Louisiana. Predictions, estimates, anecdotes about several of the pieces. But why would Beth Ann Morgan want something from there? She seemed so levelheaded, devoid of materialism. And where would she get that kind of money? These were pieces of a puzzle that he intended solving.

She hadnt planned on telling her mother anything about what had happened to her that morning, but when she got home and noticed, right away, that her mother was wearing her shoes, she couldnt resist. Nothing moved Lana Morgan like guilt, and nobody dished it out better than Robin. So she let her mother have it, first telling her how all the fighting from the night before had left her abandoned like a dog, then about the shoes. Then, when her mother was just about to get defensive, Robin zinged her with the bloody dress story, exaggerating when it suited her and crying the whole time. Her mother never had a chance. She cried, too, wiping the mascara streaks from her eyes with the back of her hand and patting Robins arm with the other, telling her that accidents happen. Yeah, right. No one would know that better than she.

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Her mother followed her through the house from room to room, her heels clicking on the hard wood floor as Robin rattled off her list of neglect. And Im failing English, too, Robin added, knowing there would never be a better time to get her mother on her side. Im probably going to have to go to summer school with all the other losers. You are not a loser, her mother said. You just need to study is all. Dont you have a final exam coming up soon? Tomorrow. Then Ill help you study tonight. Her mother nodded with resolve, as if to say all Robins problems had just been solved. If it takes us all night, well get you ready. You cant help me, Robin said, rolling her eyes. Just because she was sober didnt make her Einstein. Sure I can. I used to be real good at English, both in high school and in college. Yeah, well, you used to be good at a lot of things, Robin said, instantly sorry for saying it. Her mother stared straight ahead, swallowing hard and blinking her eyes. Im sorry, Robin whispered. Yes, her mother said, I used to be real good at English. Her mother finished the cleaning job Will had started without asking any questions, then started some coffee. You get your books and write down all you can remember your teacher told you to study. And get me any old tests youve taken, so I can know what to expect.

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Theres not enough time, Robin said. Theres no way I can read everything and study it before tomorrow! What time is the test? Sixth period, Robin said. Then well study tomorrow if we have to, and Ill check you into school after lunch. But, mother Weve got work to do and my mind is made up. Ill read each and every story to you, personally if I have to. She yanked newspaper off the kitchen table and put cereal bowls into the dishwasher, then wiped off the table, readying it for the books and papers. Lets see...The Old Man and the Sea, The Gift of the Magi, The Monkeys Paw, all short reads. Romeo and Juliet...Robin please tell me that youve read Romeo and Juliet. Robin shook her head. Didnt your teacher have you read any of it in class? All of it. And you didnt hear one word of it? Brandy Co...shatt was playing Juliet, so I slept through it. Have you seen the movie? No. Oh, God. Well never read it all by tomorrow. I know about it, I even remember some of the lines, but you need a full overview... Oh, well, Robin said, gathering her books together, you tried.

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No, no, you dont. Were not stopping this easy. Her mother stood and paced the kitchen, biting one of her fake nails. Ill be right back. She kicked off Robins white shoes then padded back toward her bedroom. Robin drew doodles on her notebook paper, thinking her mother would soon give up and theyd watch television together. When she came back into the kitchen, she wore jeans, a T-shirt, and tennis shoes and searched for her spare set of car keys. Im going to Tuscaloosa to get the Cliff Notes, she said. I shouldnt encourage you to use them, but were desperate. While Im gone, I want you to read The Old Man and the Sea. You should have just enough time if you skip over some of the scenery and stick with the story. She grabbed her purse from the counter and rushed to the door. I cant believe youre making me do this! You are not going to summer school if I can help it. Why? Cause itll embarrass you that Im there? No, it wont embarrass me, she mocked. Youre just better than that, smarter. You just wait. Well have you so ready for tomorrow that youll blow Little Miss Coshatts puny-ass grade right out of the water. Yeah, right. Robin tossed her notebook across the table. Her mother watched her for a second then opened the back door. Did I ever tell you that I played Juliet in our high school production? People said that I was the best Juliet ever. She fluttered her eyes and struck a dramatic pose with her head. O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And Ill no longer be

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a Capulet. She leaned against the doorframe and put her hand to her forehead. Brandi Coshatt, my ass! Shes not worthy to play the druggist, as far as Im concerned. Well show her! She slammed the door behind her then opened it right away. Read! she said. Read about the old goat who wouldnt let go of the fish! Ill be right back. Robin couldnt remember the last time her mother had been so determined, so sober. She wondered if shed return the same way she had left, or if shed stop on the way for a drink to hold her over. She didnt want to read that book if she didnt have to. In her mind, she had resolved herself to summer school. It might be better than trying out for the softball team and not making it then having to spend the summer watching everyone else play while she sat in the stands. Robin walked around the kitchen opening cabinet doors looking for something to munch on. They hadnt had lunch yet, and her mother could live off nothing, drinking her three meals. She made cheese and mayonnaise sandwich and ate it with some stale potato chips. She poured a glass of tea and sat at the kitchen table. The house depressed her, the way the curtains were drawn, making day seem like night. The kitchen was the only room with sunshine, and it only helped to show how dirty it was. Her dad told her the house used to be eat-offthe-floor clean, that her mother had taken great pride in the house before the accident, BTA as she had come to think of it. She opened the thin book about the old man and began to read, imagining that the old man was her dad. It made it more interesting that way.

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When her mother got back, she was more hyped than ever and still sober. She had even bought the Cliff Notes for The Old Man and the Sea, though Robin had already read most of it. She wanted to go to her room to read the other stories, but her mother insisted that they read them together, aloud. She made notes along the way, telling Robin to dog-ear this page and bookmark another page. She scribbled on the study sheet Robin had given her, nodding. When they had read all the stories, it was after midnight. Robins eyes burned from all the reading. Her mother was still focused but shaky from all the coffee. Whats ironic about each of these stories? she asked Robin, checking something on the scratch pad shed been using. They all expected one thing and got something different, Robin said. Like I expected to get some sleep tonight, but probably not. Her mother smiled and moved her pen down the page. Whats the irony in The Old Man and the Sea? He set out to catch a fish, but he got caught instead. Good. Just be ready to explain what you mean by that...give examples. And the irony in Romeo and Juliet? Romeo thinks Juliet is dead, so he kills himself, when shes really alive. So she kills herself because hes dead. Because she doesnt want to live life in a world without him.

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Yeah, Robin said. Her mother had a far off look in her eyes, then snapped out of it by lighting a cigarette. So the tragedy is they died when they didnt have to. Right. Robin wanted to keep her mother with her, not let her mind wander off, because it was times like that when shed drink. And the irony of The Monkeys Paw, is that the man gets what he wants by getting his son back, but hes deformed. And The Gift of the Magis irony is that they both sold what went with the gifts...her hair for the comb and his watch for the chain. Her mother stood and poured out the last of the coffee into the sink, then leaned back against the counter. Whats a similar theme in each of these stories? Robin put her pencil in her mouth and leaned back in the chair. Theyre all about love, she said, about loving something so much that you lose it, I guess. Robin smiled, thinking her mother would jump and cheer that she had the right answer. Instead, she frowned, nodded, and pulled out a bottle of gin from the cabinet. Youre a smart kid, she said. And youre ready. She took her coffee cup and filled it with the gin. Now you need to get some sleep. Why dont you come on to bed now, too? Robin asked. Forget drinking tonight and come on to bed. She walked toward her mother, holding out her hand for the cup. You dont understand, Kiddo, she said. If theres no drinking, theres no sleeping. With one smooth gulp, she drank it all down then put the bottle

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back into the cabinet. There, she said. Lets get some shut eye before we have to get up and go over everything again. Youre going to kick butt tomorrow, you just wait and see. Robin stacked her books in a pile on the table, careful to leave out the notes her mother had written. They were good notes, smart notes. She never knew her mother had it in her. It was ironic, this life of hers. Here she had Beth Ann who was always asking her to talk to her, get out all those feelings, and she didnt feel like she could talk to her. What did they have in common? Beth Ann had never been the ugly, unpopular kid. Then there was her mother. She was the one who knew what it felt like to be made fun of, to be the punch line in every ones jokes. Which is exactly why she couldnt talk to her either? She was a woman carrying a load way too heavy already. Why add another fifty or so pounds to her load, knowing that every extra pound required another glass of gin? If she wanted her mother to quit drinking, she had to keep her own problems to herself. Im proud of you, Kiddo, her mother said. She patted Robin on the shoulder then grabbed her, hugging her so tight that Robin could feel her mothers heart beating. And for the first time in a very long time, Robin not only let her mother hug her, but c

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CHAPTER TEN Powamu Powamu is the ceremony of purification, for as the kachina spirits come down from the mountains, they come to purify. Hopi kachinas are supernaturals, embodying the spirits of living things and also spirits of ancestors who have died and become part of nature. Because the kachinas hold these spirits, they are the spiritual leaders of the Hopi people and our way of life. They distribute food and blessings, accept prayers, dance, and teach lessons to our children. Every child, by the time he reaches six or eight years old, must be initiated. Initiation is the second life ceremony of the Hopi, coming after birth and before marriage. When Beth Ann first came here, I told her about the Corn Mother. I told her that the world must be in harmony with man and other animals at all times, and that objects in nature such as rocks, clouds, and the sky all possess life. The mother of all life is the Corn Mother, because without corn, the Hopi would perish. At birth, every infant receives an ear of corn made into a fetish as a reminder that the Corn Mothers gave life to all living things. As a Hopi, one is required to keep his Corn Mother for life. That way if crops fail, its perfect seeds promise the hope of a new crop cycle. When a child is born, his Corn Mother is placed beside him, where it stays for twenty days. During this time, the child is kept in darkness. Early on the morning of the twentieth day, the mother, holding the child in her arms and the Corn Mother in her right hand, and accompanied by her own motherthe childs

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grandmotherleave the house and walk toward the east. Then, facing east, they pray silently, scattering cornmeal to the rising sun. When the sun has cleared the horizon and the mother has stepped forward, she holds up the child to the sun and says, Father Sun, this is your child.

Beth Ann lay across the bed reading the newspaper when Will came into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. Are you doing anything special this afternoon? I thought I might go outside and help Nanna garden, she said. How about you and I go for a ride down to the dam. We could wet a hook, do some fishing. I cant remember the last time we went fishing, she said. I know. Its been too long. He lay on top of the paper, looking up at her. You up for it? Yes, she said. I think I am. Good. He stood and clapped his hands. You change into those wormbaiting overalls of yours and Ill hook up the boat. She hurried to the back of her closet looking for her overalls. She hadnt worn them since they last went fishing, which had to have been after they first got married. Before they were married, they went every weekend. When other people went into town to shop or catch a matinee, they were on the river pulling in bass, bream, and catfish. They used real worms, artificial worms, crickets, expensive

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lures, and even wieners, but they always caught something. Then theyd release them, since neither of them liked to eat freshwater fish. The overalls didnt fit. She was aware that she had gained ten pounds since they married, but she never thought shed see the day that her overalls wouldnt glide over her hips. She pulled on her jeans instead and examined herself in the mirror as she buttoned up one of Wills old shirts. Shed need to lose weight before she got pregnant. After all, shed be pushing forty by the time the baby was bornright about the time her metabolism would take a nosedive. She tied the shirt at her waist, to prove to herself she still had one, then Frenchbraided her hair, wondering if she had reached the age that people considered a woman too old to wear long hair. She didnt care what that age was, though. She loved her hair and did not intend to cut it. As far as she was concerned, they could wrap her long, gray hair around her like mummy bandages before dropping her into the ground. She pulled her fathers Zebco out of the hall closet. Shed never caught anything on another rod. And although she hadnt used it lately, she replaced the line and oiled the reel only a few months ago. She wanted to treat the rod with the same respect her father had given it on all those Saturday mornings when he left before dawn and came back before dinner smelling like the earth and the water, promising her that he would take her with him one day, but only after she had learned how to swim. Nanna taught her how to swim the first week of June in 1964, seven months after her father died and five months after her mother moved to Mobile.

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In the kitchen, she tossed several soft drinks and ice into the cooler, then laid two apples on top. From the kitchen window she could see that Will had hooked up the boat and pulled it out. He stood in the boat now, assessing what they needed. Beau was there, circling the boat and testing the connectors. The two men talked as they worked, Beau looking tired and sweaty while Will looked like he was ready to board a yacht. She grabbed an extra cola from the refrigerator. She handed the soda to Beau once she reached the boat. You look thirsty. Thanks. He wiped his forehead with his arm, then popped the top. Those dont come in pairs? Will asked, nodding at the drink. Yours is in here. She held the cooler up for Will. He placed it in the boat, then reached for her rod. He held it out for Beau to observe. This is a very special rod, Beau. So special that I had to rig up some way to fasten it to the boat before shed agree to take it out. It was my fathers, she told Beau, embarrassed. Beau nodded in a way that told her he knew how she felt. Beau found us some gear Will said. He fastened Beth Anns rod to the inside lip of the bass boat. Most of its probably rotten, Beau said. He walked to the shed and picked up a silver tackle box. It looked heavy, perhaps too heavy to carry on a boat. I found it in the shed this morning when I was throwing a bunch of crap away. Rachel doesnt recall where it came from, but some of its probably good.

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He lifted the box to Will. I know you can still use the hooks. And theres some lures that are still in good shape. Dont you want to keep it for yourself? Beth Ann asked. Ive got my own tackle in my car, he said, that is if I ever get any spare time to steal away. Youve certainly got your hands full here, Will said. He climbed down from the boat. But everything youve done looks darn good. I was just telling Beth Ann this morning what a difference youve made in this place. For a second, Beth Ann thought about asking Beau to join them. There was plenty of room, and he had his own gear. The mood always seemed lighter when he was around, the way he was so quick-witted, yet so honest. She could tell that he liked her just by the way he looked at her, listened to her. From the moment she met him, standing there in the cemetery, she was comfortable with him, like she had known him for a long time. She imagined him with Will and her on the boat. Will would talk to him about man stuff like work, home repairs, and fishing stories. Nevertheless, Beau would not be interested in those topics. Hed ask questions about her job, her interests, and her past. For the first time in a very long time, shed met someone who was more interested in impressing her than Will. Which is exactly why Will would not appreciate her asking Beau to come along. Was she not the one who was always griping about not having Will alone to herself? Hey, where are the overalls? Will asked. Theyre too old to wear.

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No theyre not. You look sexy in them... Will grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to him, kissing her on the cheek. She pulled away, embarrassed, feeling like Wills public display of affection was his way of marking his territory, like pissing on a tree. Wed better leave before it gets too late, she said. Ill get Rachel to pull out the skillet for a fish fry, Beau said. Since you all will be bringing back dinner. He walked away, wiping off sweat and finishing the soda. Will waved to him as they drove off. He seems to be a nice enough fella. Maybe Ill see about letting him use the law library at the firm. Hell need all the help he can get if he plans on passing the Bar. Especially with a degree from that joint hes going to. Senator McMillan graduated from there, Beth Ann said. I read it in the paper. Yeah, but Charles McMillans father has connections in high places. Will watched the boat from his rear-view mirror. I dont think our mechanics son from Louisiana has that. Hes got the Mayor of Moundville living next door, she said, smiling. Yeah, Darlin, and that and a dollar bill just might buy him a Coke. He laughed, patted her on the knee, and then pulled the Jeep onto the blacktop. The road wound uphill through kudzu covered-pines and alongside sun-dried fields of corn. Beth Ann rolled down the window, eased back the seat and propped her feet on the dashboard. The warm breeze was rich with gardenia and honeysuckle. She

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leaned back and closed her eyes, content that it was summer, grateful that they were alone, and happy that she was going fishing.

Rachels disdain for Beaus working on Sunday wasnt as strong as he had suspected. At three oclock Werdner drove up in his rusted pick up truck to see if he could help Beau haul away the junk from the shed. He said Rachel had called him and asked him to repay Beau for mowing the cemetery when it was really his job. They hauled three heaping loads to the dump and one to the Salvation Army pick up box near the Mercantile. When they were finished, all that remained were several rusty tools, a dress bodice that Rachel said shed like to recover and an antique dresser that had seen better days. Rachel said he could have the dresser, though it had been out there for years now and she doubted hed get it to looking decent. Werdner complained all the while, talking about how old he was and how his back was bound to go out at any moment. Beau kept handing him the lighter items and passing him beers until the dresser was finally moved into Beaus room and Werdner limped out of the house a little tipsy and a lot quieter. Did you have to get him drunk to get him work? Rachel asked Beau as Werdner slung gravel down the drive blowing his horn and waving. I had to get him drunk to shut up his complaining, he said. So thats the answer.

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Hes a card, thats for sure. Beau pulled out the dresser drawers slowly, halfway expecting to find a snake or a wasps nest. Rachel brought him a can of furniture polish and a dishrag. His best attribute was his wife, but she died a few years back. Hes been impossible ever since, bugging people to death. Well its good for him to keep busy. It got my dad through it. I dont think you ever get through it, Rachel said. She sat on the side of Beaus bed and fidgeted with the spread. All you can do is stay busy so you wont think about it. At least not until you lay down your head at night. Sounds like youve got it all figured out. Beau wondered who she was mourning over. Her parents? She didnt have any siblings other than his father, so it couldnt be that. Maybe Tommys father had died rather than just abandon them. Its a lesson Id rather not know about, to tell you the truth. I imagine youve lost a good many people then? He pulled on the last drawer but it was jammed from inside. He jiggled it back and forth hoping to settle whatever was keeping it closed. Id rather not talk about it, she said. Beau nodded and yanked the drawer so hard that it flew out and fell halfway across the floor. A shoebox full of black and white photographs spilled out of it. Rachel slid off the bed and onto the floor. Youve found the family photographs, Beau! she said. And I thought they were lost forever.

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Rachel insisted that they drink lemonade and go through them, telling Beau that everyone was there in black and white. She would introduce him to all the family at once. Just slide in a wrestling video for Tommy and come on into the kitchen. I want to call Nanna. We were talking just the other day about how we wished we could find those snapshots. Beau found Tommy in the living room dancing with Rachels bodice. Got yourself a girlfriend, Sport? Im dancing, he said. I can see that. With Wobin. Is that right, now? Tommy shook his head and dipped the mannequin. Does the real Robin know about your...loving feeling? Nope, he said. She will, though. Hows that? Ill kiss her, he said. He laughed and kissed the air where the mannequins head would be if it had one. Are you going to be dancing for a while, or would you like to watch wrestling? Wrestling. He dropped the mannequin to the floor and ran toward his room.

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Youre quite the romantic, Sport. Beau searched through the suitcase where Rachel kept Tommys tapes. Ive got just the thing for you, he said. He pulled out the Best of GLOW tape, the Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling, and popped it into the VCR. Knock yourself out, Beau said.

Beth Ann had never seen a collection of anything as organized as the tackle box. The hooks were separated, tied together with fishing line, and arranged according to size with the smallest on the left of the box and the largest on the right. The lead weights were similarly strung together with thin line and separated from each other by partitions. Lures with silver spoons, feathers, and tiny hooks lay spread out like salmon in a can. The pliers, wire cutters, and Swiss knife didnt have a trace of rust or dirt. Can you believe this? Beth Ann asked Will. They trolled to Millers Point where the willows shaded them from the sun. They always had good luck there, catching the bass as they nestled near the banks looking for food. Beth Ann rummaged though the tackle box. There must be hundreds of dollars worth of gear in this thing. And all of its in great condition...mint condition. The water splashed against the boats sides and the boat rocked. Beth Ann felt a little queasy, so she looked up.

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Think it was one of Rachels boyfriends, Will asked, raising his brows and casting. Since when has Rachel had a boyfriend? At least once, he said. Had herself a Bible salesman, from what I hear. Yeah, well, that Bible salesman never came around to our house. It kills me how people fabricate stories to suit their own morbid curiosity. The wind had moved them from the point to just inside a cove. Dead limbs littered the surface. Will started the motor long enough to get them moving, then killed it once they were headed for the point. Have you ever known Rachel to go fishing? he asked. No. Well, then, I rest my case. So your case is that a Bible-selling fisherman wandered into town one day, knocked Rachel up, then left her to raise Tommy by herself. Never to return and reclaim his fishing gear? Will smiled and reeled in his line. It works for me. Beth Ann closed the tackle box, but kept out one of the lures and tied it on her line. This ones a keeper. This ones going to bring me good luck. She threaded the string through the eye of the lure, then looked around them. Lets go closer to the bank, near those willows. Thats one of the things I love about you. What, that I believe in luck or that I like to fish near willows?

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That you bait your own line. Youre low maintenance that way. Im low maintenance in every way, she said. Especially compared to some women. I wont mention any names, though. Please dont, he said, putting up his free hand. She tied the knot, then bit off the excess line. The water was calm now. She looked at the trees on the bank, then turned her chair toward a spruce, a very sacred tree to the Hopi. I really dont ask for much. She cast her line perfectly; landing it just inches from the bank, yet free from the brush. Only the impossible. All things are possible, she said, looking at him and lowering her head. Did the Bible salesman tell you that? he asked, laughing. Shh, she whispered, holding up her hand. She reeled the slack out of her line, then watched it on the surface of the water. It moved from left to right. Then, just as Will had taught her to do, she yanked the rod and began reeling it in. The rod bent and tipped toward her as the fish took the lure under the boat. Keep reeling, Will said. He stood and looked on the other side of the boat. Youve got to bring him back under. Im trying, she said. She leaned back in the chair and braced herself with her feet on the side of the boat, hoping the line would hold. Get the net! she yelled. Will shook the boat from side to side looking for the net. Its near the cooler. She cranked and cranked the reel until she could finally see the fish. She couldnt tell how big it was, but it was by far the largest she had ever caught.

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It was a bass with a mouth that could hold a softball. She only had a few feet of line left when Will leaned over and scooped it in. Hes a fine one, Will said. At least a nine pounder! Let me see, Beth Ann said, leaning over. Hes beautiful, isnt he? Oh, Bethie, youve got to keep this one. Well have him mounted. And put him where? Hang him in the living room? Hang him in your office at school. Hes too pretty to let go. I wish we had a camera. If I just had a picture...no one would ever believe...Id love to show Nanna... Where did I put that stringer? No, let him go. You cant be serious... I am. If were not going to eat him, we should let him go. Will held the fish by its mouth, and lifted it toward the sun. Its sides glistened like mirrors reflecting the sun and the water. Will looked at her one last time as if to plead with her. She opened the tackle box, pulled out the needle nose pliers, and handed them to him. Try not to mess him up too bad, she said. The fish did not fight him as Will took the lure from its mouth. It was as if it knew not to move, sensing that he was about to be set free, and cooperation with the captor would mean less pain. Youre sure, Will said, holding the fish just above the water. Beth Ann nodded. The fish dropped, swimming sideways at first, then he straightened up and skidded away, silver beneath the water.

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I told you this was a lucky lure, she said. Beaus found me a treasure chest of goodies. Will laughed and reeled in a moss-covered branch that had attached itself to his hook while hed been busy helping Beth Ann. Ill just stick to my red worms, I guess. He held up the mossy branch and modeled it for her. They work so well for catching wooden eels. He smiled, then threw it to the bank. Leave the heavy-duty fishing for the professional in the family. I had a good teacher. She smiled at him. And its a poor teacher whose student doesnt surpass him. And its a poor fisherman whose fish he does not keep. What is that? The Gospel According to Will? No, I think thats the first book of the Bible salesman, he said, winking at the tackle box. Reel in your line. Were moving away from here. Ive always had good luck in the middle of the river. Beth Ann fastened her rod with the safety latches to the side of the boat, then leaned back, letting the water spray her face as Will cruised them toward the widest part of the river. lasping her hands together squeezed back.

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CHAPTER ELEVEN Whispering Noise of Breezes March, April, and May are the busy months of planting. March is named Isumuya, meaning Whispering Noises of Breezes. The land is dry and sandy while the men dig, the winds blowing the land in swirls around them. April, Kwiyamuya, is the time of erecting windbreakers to guard the seeds from being carried away, and May is known as Uimuya, the time of the planting moon. There are no ceremonies during these months, since every male hand is needed in the fields, and every female works to feed the hungry mouths coming in from the fields. It is also a time for tourists, so many of us make kachina dolls and pottery to sell to them as they stop by on their way to the Grand Canyon or Las Vegas. For Beth Ann, though, it was the time she insisted on getting herself a dream vision. Hiram protested that he would have no part of it, saying that if the word got out, every Bahannawhite personin the country would drive his moving houses up the mesa to get themselves a vision. The next thing you knew, theyd be asking for Indian names and making us pray over them. They all want spirituality in a jar, hed say. So they can buy it at the store and put it on a shelf. He was so mad that he slept in the kiva for several nights, thinking I would change my mind and come for him.

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Beth Ann fasted and prayed for three days as I instructed her, and during that time she ground corn and learned how to make piki bread like all other Hopi maidens. I washed her hair, then parted it and wound it in figure-eight patterns around willow frames to form squash blossoms, since she was of the age of marrying but still single. At night, I would sit in front of the fire, praying the Great Spirit to guide us to the place where she should receive her vision. Near midnight of the third night, Hiram came into the house. He woke me first, then went to Beth Ann on the floor where she had made a pallet. He said that he had heard a small voice in the wind that would not let him sleep, so he had climbed up on top of the roof and sat there for many hours trying to interpret the voice. He prayed, he said, clutching his Corn Mother in one hand and his prayer stick in the other until he fell asleep. In his dream, a white man came to him, dressed in farmers clothes and wearing deerskin moccasins. He said that he was Beth Anns earthly father, and he was worried about her soul. He asked Hiram to take her to Paria Canyon near the great turtle sculpture made of hard sandstone. Hiram said the spirit told him that he knew it was not the Bear Chiefs job to lead white people to their visions, but Beth Ann had chosen Hiram as her godfather and me as her spiritual guide. If not you two, he had asked, then who? Beth Ann did not sleep the rest of that night but stared into the fire and listened to the wind. The next morning I found her exactly as I had left her when I closed my eyes to sleep. I am afraid, she told me. I was seeing a man, my

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professor, several months back. And then I found out that he was married. I sat down on the floor next to her. She shivered inside her blanket, so I gave her mine. Where is this man? I asked. Are you still having relations with him? She shook her head. Hes still in Flagstaff living with his wife. Its not your fault. He was the one who committed chunta, the one who cheated. But I know my dream vision wont work, she said. Because Ive been praying for something selfish and cruel. What? Ive been praying that if God would make sure that Im not pregnant, Ill never ask for anything again. I told her that she was not being selfish, but we did have work to do if we were going to get her ready for her vision. Take off your clothes, I said. When I came back with my paint, she was naked except for the blanket. I painted her legs black to indicate the menstrual cycle, then drew circles around her ankles to represent the color of the sunlight. On her right wrist I attached a fox pelt that hung down to her ankles, representing the sexual power of the animal kingdom and to ward off the spirits of sexual indulgence. Finally, I took a bowl of water and sweet cornmeal and stirred it until it was paste, and rubbed it between her legs where all life begins. She shivered the whole while, sometimes crying and putting her hands to her face. When I was finished, I put the blanket back around her and made her hovakpi tea and piki bread. The fast has made your body change, I told her.

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But if you are pregnant, we will know soon. The next morning she received her menstruation. On the outside, she seemed to be herself again, smiling and talkative, but on the inside, something had changed. When she got her vision in Paria Canyon, it was of her and a baby on her back. She interpreted it to mean that the burden of not bearing children would always be with her, as punishment for her selfish prayer. Perhaps that is why she married a man with no seed...to punish herself. Nevertheless, I told her then as I still tell her now, that in her vision there was present, not absent, a child and a horse. The child was on her back, indicating that it was hers. The horse always represents a male, and its also is a sign of healing. I keep telling her that her vision can be interpreted that she will have a child, but she never believes me.

On Thursday, Rachel and Nanna returned from town with two pieces of mail for Beau. The first was a letter from Erick Candelaria, his former partner. It was written on one of those pink message slips and said: I know you took it, so send it back before the others start missing it. Let it go, Beau. Your friend, Erick. Beau placed the note in the strong box then opened the second letter from his father. It was written on an invoice from the garage and read: Here is a check for $5,000. Use it on Rachels house in whatever way you see fitting. Dad. When he showed the check to Rachel, she nearly cried. I need it for the roof, he said. And maybe for some paint, if thats all right. She nodded. Unless you need it more for food or bills No, she said. Fix the house. I got two calls for wedding dresses that I

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think will come through. You just get this place leak proof and Ill be more than grateful.

Beau drove to the Citizens Bank and Trust, the only bank in the town. Inside worked three women: one at the counter, one in the window, and the other at a desk. The one at the counter asked if she could help him. I want to set up a checking account, he said. Then youll need to see Mrs. Bledsole. The young woman pointed to the older woman sitting at the desk and talking on the telephone. She waved at him and motioned him to sit down in the chair across from her. Donna Bledsole, the nameplate read. He took a brochure from the display on her desk and pretended to read it while she finished her conversation. Out of corner of his eye, he noticed a Jeep drive up and park just outside the window. Robin jumped out of the passenger side and ran into the bank. She ran past the counter to the woman in the window. It wasnt until the woman turned around that he realized she was Lana. Robin told her something and Lana let out a yelp. They hugged, then Robin showed her a piece of paper. They hugged again. Donna Bledsole rolled her eyes and switched the receiver to her opposite ear. Robin and her mother showed the paper to the young woman behind the counter. Beau looked out the window. Beth Ann was sitting in the Jeep fooling with the radio. Im sorry, sir, Donna Bledsole said. What can I do for you?

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Beau! Robin said, running to him. Look! I made a ninety-two on my final exam. Im not going to summer school after all. Let me see, he said, taking the paper from her. Way to go. Mother helped me. We studied all night. Lana kept her distance, but smiled at Beau and nodded. Well, it paid off, he said. Theres no way I could have done this. It was easy, really. Doesnt look easy to me. He gave her back the paper. You should be proud of yourself. Moms taking me out to dinner in Tuscaloosa to celebrate. I cant wait. She ran back to her mother and gave her the test. You keep this. I dont want to lose it. Dont you want to show your father? Thats okay, Ill just tell him. Ill be by to pick you up around six. Okay, she said. Ill be ready. She waved to Beau, then darted out the front door to the Jeep where Beth Ann waited. Robin was talking non-stop as they drove off. Sorry about the interruption, Lana said to Beau. She smiled, then backed up toward the window. Shes just real excited. Lana looked younger when she was sober and smiling. He smiled as if to say no problem. Now what was it you needed, Mr. Beau. Beau LeFoy, he said. Id like to open a checking account.

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Well, Mr. LeFoy, my husband has been trying real hard to get in touch with you. Whys that? he asked. Well, hes been wanting to talk with you about some land, but Im sure hell tell you all about it once he catches up with you. Ive been at my Aunt Rachels house every day since I got here. I cant imagine why he hasnt been able to reach me. Well, I may have been mistaken. She pulled a form from the drawer of her desk and pushed it toward him. If youll just fill this out, well get you set up. Is your husband a realtor? he asked. One of the best ways to get someone to spill their guts was to ask questions then sit back. If the questions didnt prompt the information out of them, the silence would. People couldnt stand silence. Every moment had to be filled with words, even if they were nervous words that gave them away. No, hes a lawyer. She handed him an ink pen, then turned to her typewriter. Beau began filling out the form. So its a probate matter hes wanting to talk to me about? I dont know. She punched a few keys on the typewriter, then corrected them. He didnt know how she typed with those fingernails. They looked fake, and were excessively long. Her hands were covered with liver spots and diamond rings. She wore a tennis bracelet on her right arm. Her blonde hair was teased

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and fluffed, sprayed stiff to angles that brushed against her well-made-up face, her pink eye shadow matching her suit. Maybe hes been talking with my father, he said. He lives in Louisiana. Maybe, she said. So whats your husbands interest in this land? Well, youd have to ask him that, she said. She pulled the form from the typewriter, grinding its gears. Im just his wife. Beau leaned forward, placing his arms on her desk. I guess the reason Im asking is Ive got people I dont even know saying whats going to be done on my land by your husband, and Ive never even laid eyes on the man. Its kind of frustrating, if you know what I mean. Ill need for you to sign this card, she said. Her hand shook, and she avoided eye contact with him. He took the card and signed it, then gave it back to her. Here are your counter checks. Your permanent checks will arrive within two weeks at the address you have given me. We look forward to having you bank with us. Her voice was mechanical and level. She placed the forms in an envelope and handed it to him. Her smile was quick and forced. Call us if you need anything, she said, then she looked back at her telephone as if waiting for it to ring. Bye, bye, Lana said to him as he walked out the front door. You come back, the young woman said from behind the counter.

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Beau smiled at them, then smiled to himself as he walked out. He would have bet the entire five thousand dollars he just deposited that Donna Bledsole was on the phone right that minute calling her husband to tell him what a jerk that Beau LeFoy was and how she wouldnt do business with him if he was the last man on earth. Mission accomplished, he thought, as he jumped into his Mustang and headed toward the hardware store.

Robin sat on the well cover tossing the softball into the air and catching it with her glove, waiting for Beau to get home. Her dad had already left for the coast to go fishing, and her mother would be there soon to take her to Red Lobster to celebrate. She had told her mother she needed to get some things from Beth Anns house, but shed really wanted to see Beau one last time before spending the extended weekend with her mother. He had been so happy for her at the bank. Maybe he did like her. Sure, he was a good bit older, but her father was twelve years older than Beth Ann, and they got married. When he did finally drive up, Robin ran to the car and opened the door for him to get out. Well if it isnt Will Shakespeare, he said. He had all kinds of tools in his back seat and several bags of groceries in the passenger seat. Here, let me help you, she said. She ran to the other side of the car and took out one of the bags. He grabbed the other two and led her into Rachels kitchen. Tommy was sitting at the table writing in a magazine with a marker. Look whos here, Beau told Tommy. Its Robin. Hey, Wobin, Tommy said, not looking up.

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Hey, she said. She put the bags on the table and turned toward Beau. That one goes to my room, he said, pointing to the bag on the table. Ill take it, she said. Just show me where. She was dying to see his bedroom, where he slept at night, where he dressed. Its up front, he said. Ill show, Tommy said. He stood and walked toward the hall door with his head down. She looked back to see if Beau was following them. He stood in the kitchen unloading the bags he had brought in. Well at least shed get to see his room, even if it was the retard who was taking her there. Here, he said, walking into the room and standing at the foot of the bed. Robin put the bag on the bed and glanced inside. There was beer and cigarettes in it, and some deodorant and toothpaste. She looked around expecting to see lots of stuff that would tell her secrets about Beau, but the room was nearly empty. There was nothing personal lying around except for an old picture on the nightstand next to the bed. She picked it up. It was of two kids, a boy and a girl, who stood at an old tire swing. Neither of them smiled. She put the photo back, then looked around. You got a baseball glove? she yelled to Beau from the door. In my closet, he yelled back. On the top shelf. She opened the closet door and looked at his clothes. Jeans. T-shirts. He did have a suit after all. She touched them all, occasionally pulling a sleeve out to smell it. She stood on her tiptoes to look on the top shelf. There was a steel box, but she couldnt see a glove. She pulled on the box, bringing it to the edge.

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Dat Beaus, Tommy said. Shh. Robin put her finger to her mouth. Hes got gun, Tommy whispered, coming closer to Robin. How do you know? Saw him, he said. Tommy walked into Beaus closet and parted his clothes. Then, once he was on the other side of the clothes, he opened a door that led to his own room. You shouldnt spy, Robin said. Close the door before he comes in here and finds you. Tommy shut the door and walked back into Beaus room. His hair was messed up from the clothes. And you better stay away from that gun, or Ill tell on you. Whats going on in here? Beau stood at the door. I was looking for your glove, she said. But I cant find it. Beau walked to the closet and pulled it from the back of the shelf. Want to play catch? she asked. Ive got tryouts next week. I could use the practice. Sure, he said. Didnt touch, Tommy said. Robin gave him a dirty look, then followed Beau out of the bedroom. When they were in the kitchen, she motioned Tommy to stay. She didnt want him nudging his way into her time with Beau. She ran down the steps then on ahead of Beau, careful to hold in her stomach and priss a little when she walked.

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Beth Ann rinsed shrimp in the sink. It was her first night alone in a long time, so she was treating herself. Will was allergic to shrimp and Robin always curled her lips up whenever Beth Ann brought it home. Robin and Beau ran out of the house next door and began tossing the softball to each other. She watched them through the screened window. Robins shirt was tied at her waist, exposing a thin white strip of her stomach, which Beth Ann could tell she was holding in. She carried the shrimp to the table near the screen door so she could listen to them while she removed the heads. Koko sat at her feet whimpering for her to drop something. Wheres your folks? Beau asked. Dads gone fishing in Mobile for a few days and mom will be here in a minute to take me out to eat. And Beth Ann? Shes inside cooking. Step back some and prepare for some heat, Beau said. So what position are you trying out for? We dont try out for positions, we just try out for teams. The coaches decide where we should play. Where do you like to play? Anywhere but the bench. Beth Ann laughed to herself. It was Robins usual position. So much so, that Will had stopped paying attention to her games, walking around the park and

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playing politics instead. He had told Beth Ann to come get him if Robin actually got any action. Beth Ann usually sat in the stands and read a book or flipped through a magazine if she went at all. Do you bat well? Not really. Strike out or go down watching? Strike out. You must be hitting late. Beth Ann nodded her head. Will had been telling Robin that for years. He even took her several times to a batting cage in Tuscaloosa. They always came back mad at each other. She said he was pushing too hard; he said she was not taking it seriously enough. You need to learn to anticipate the ball, kind of get into a trance of sorts. Feel the rhythm. Do you ever jog? No, Robin said. Well, when you run, you get to hearing this rhythm with your breathing and your feet. Mines like phew, tee, tee, phew, tee, tee...like that. Robin laughed. Beth Ann smiled, knowing exactly what he meant. Hers was hee, ta, ta, hee, ta, ta... Youve just got to listen for the pitchers rhythm after the first couple of pitches. Its a release, tee, tee, click, kind of thing. Uh, huh, Robin said. I know it sounds crazy, but it works. Try it some time.

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I will, she said. Her voice was optimistic, but it was obvious that she was lost to his theory. Beth Ann took the colander to the sink and ran some water into the boiling pot, then placed it on the stove. She rubbed her hands on the water faucet like Will had taught her. It was the only thing that removed the fish smell from her hands. She grabbed one of Wills beers from the refrigerator and sat back at the table. How did you get that scar on your arm? Robin asked. I got shot, he said. Beth Ann leaned her head closer to the door. The ball slapped from glove to glove with little pause. Did it hurt? Yeah, he said. After I realized Id been hit. Who shot you? A drug dealer. You ever shoot anyone? Once. Got a bank robber in the leg. But youve never killed anybody No, he said. At least not directly. Beth Ann considered his answer, wondered what he meant by it. Did that mean he was responsible for someones death without actually having shot him? Or was it like her and her fatherhe felt guilty because he was there and caused a distraction. Whyd you quit being a cop? The pitching stopped, and they were quiet.

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I guess I just felt like the bad guys were always winning, he said. A horn blew from the front of the house. Robin ran up the stairs and screamed inside the screen. Im gone, Beth Ann! Beth Ann stood and walked to the door, but Robin was already running down the drive. Ill see you next week, she told Beau. Maybe you can help me with that rhythm stuff. Okay, he said. He waved to her, then looked at Beth Ann. Im going to teach her how to bat. So I heard, she said. She walked down the steps and sat on the well cover. You do realize that shes got a crush on you, dont you? Nah, he said. Oh, yeah. A big one from what I can tell. Good to know that I can still attract adolescents if all else fails. He was fishing, waiting for her to tell him that he was attractive to women her age as well. She thought about saying it, then stood instead and walked to the house. What is it they say around the precinct? Fifteen will get you twenty? What would thirty... he paused as if adding numbers in his head. What would thirty eight get me? She stood at the door for a moment wondering how to take him, wondering if he was actually flirting with her or just being funny. He smiled, then turned and walked back toward his house. Then, without another thought in her head, she stopped and turned around. Do you like boiled shrimp? she asked him. You cant live in Louisiana and not love it, he said.

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Then would you like to join me for dinner? The minute the question left her mouth, she hoped hed say no. It was a dangerous question to ask. What would Nanna think if she dropped in and found them eating together without Will or Robin present? I know its last minute. If youve got something else to do, then Id love to, he said. Just let me get a shower and change my clothes. Oh, you really dont have to do that. Its real informal... The bigger a deal he made of it, the worse it would be if someone found out. Trust me. You dont want me coming anywhere near your house, or your dog for that matter, smelling like this. He held his arms away from his sides and made a face. I can barely stand myself. Ill only be a minute or two. Okay, she said. She smiled politely, then turned to the kitchen. Okay, she mumbled to herself as she paced the kitchen. Its just dinner. People have neighbors over all the time for dinner. Will eats with the Bledsoles. Rachel eats with Nanna. Its not a big deal. She stood by the telephone, then picked it up. Maybe she had better beat Nanna to the punch. Hey, Nanna. Why dont you come over for dinner? I boiled shrimp. Well, Ive already made a salad, but I guess I could just bring it over. Thats great, she said. Now shed have to work in the rest. Hey, Ive got an idea. Why dont I call Rachel and see if she and Tommy...and I guess Beau want to come over too. That would be a nice gesture, Nanna said, but I dont think Rachel and Tommy eat shrimp.

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Cant hurt to ask. Ill see you in a little while. She called Rachels house, telling her that she only had shrimp, but she had invited Nanna and Beau, and she wanted to extend the invitation to Tommy and her. She was relieved when Rachel declined. Beth Ann hung up the telephone feeling better, though she couldnt believe a grown woman had to go through so much trouble to justify inviting someone over to dinner. She rushed to the bedroom and looked in the mirror. She couldnt do too much to herself or it would look like she was dressing up for him. Nanna might get suspicious. She pulled down her hair to re-braid it, then decided to leave it loose around her shoulders, pulling her bangs back with a tortoise shell comb. The T-shirt could go, but shed leave on the same jeans. She slipped on a sleeveless cotton blouse and decided against any shoes, since Nanna knew she never wore shoes in the house. In the bathroom she washed her face and brushed her teeth, then dotted makeup around her eyes and in places where the sun had left spots. She just had time to put in her turquoise earrings before Nanna came calling from the back door. Beth Ann took a deep breath and tried to steady her hands. Ive got to be crazy, she said to herself in the mirror.

Beau took the shower in record time, afraid that Beth Ann would change her mind if he took longer. He was still blown away that she had asked. It was too good to be true, having her to himself. And it couldnt have come at a better

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time. Just hours before he had bought a picture frame from the hardware store so he could frame the picture he had found. Actually, Nanna discovered it when they were sorting through all the snapshots hed found in the dresser. It was a colored photograph of Beth Ann and her father taken, according to the inscription on the back, in 1962. Her father was standing in the back yard in front of the barn holding Beth Ann with one arm and grasping a fishing rod with the other. They both smiled, but Beth Ann was really animated as if caught in the middle of a laugh. When Nanna found it, she sat frozen for a while before he or Rachel noticed that she had dropped out of the conversation. She wiped a tear from her chin, then handed the photograph to Rachel, who laid it down and got up to make coffee. Beau picked it up and looked on the back, but only the year was written on it. He looked closer, trying to make out the girl, since she would be an adult by now. Its my boy, Nanna said. The year before he died. Then this must be Beth Ann, he said, touching her tiny face with his finger. Rachel and Nanna didnt want to look through the pictures after that. They drank coffee instead, answering what questions Beau had as he picked through the snapshots, careful to avoid any that resembled Beth Anns father. Are there any pictures here of Beth Anns mother? he asked. I doubt it, Nanna said. She shook her head and glanced over the pile. She wasnt around long enough to get any made, Rachel said. It was clear to Beau that there was little tolerance in the room for this woman who had

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abandoned her daughter. He gathered the pictures into piles, then placed them back into the shoebox, careful to keep track of the one of Beth Ann. The minute he saw it, he knew he wanted to give it to her. Then later, when he had seen her head out fishing with Will, he decided to frame it and give it to her the first chance he had to be alone with her. Do you mind if I keep these for a while so I can look through them? he asked. You can have them all, as far as Im concerned, Rachel said. I had forgotten how sad they make me. Nanna nodded. Beau dried his hair, wondering if he should pull it back or wear it down. He wondered how Beth Ann felt about men with long hair. Will was such a clean-cut all-American type. He pulled it back and held it close to the side of his head, wondering what hed look like if he cut it short. He hadnt worn it short since the Academy. He pulled on his last pair of clean jeans, then grabbed the dressiest casual shirt he owned. He found a pair of scissors in Rachels sewing machine and took them back to his room. The frame was not what he had wanted, but the selection was limited at the hardware store. He looked for a brass frame or one covered with cloth, but what he found was a choice between the cheap metal kind that cost a buck fifty or a decorative childrens frame bordered with blocks that spelled out Its a Girl! He chose the childrens frame because he didnt want her to think he

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was cheap, and because it was appropriate. She was, after all, a child in the picture, and she was definitely a girl. He trimmed the picture with Rachels scissors, careful to cut straight lines and get as much of the picture into the frame as possible. The background was mostly of the barn and a boat, with a silver tackle box at her fathers feet. When he was finished, the picture fit perfectly, and the pink in the frame matched the pink sundress Beth Ann wore. He looked around for something to wrap it in, but found only newspaper. He pulled out the colorful Sunday comics and wrapped the frame inside it, folding down the edges as if he was making a paper airplane. He raked the picture scraps and the scissors into the shoebox, then shoved it into his dresser drawer. He was sweating by the time he finished, and had to towel off before he opened his bedroom door to leave for Beth Anns house. He shoved the picture frame into the back of his jeans like an extra pistol, hoping to conceal it from Rachel and her curiosity. She was chopping carrots in the kitchen. So youre going to Beth Anns for dinner, she said. He stopped and looked at her, wondering how she knew. Tell her were sorry we couldnt come, but Tommy just doesnt like shrimp. Sure, he said, knowing he sounded like an idiot. When had Beth Ann invited them? Would others be there as well? He had just assumed that since Will and Robin were gone that hed be alone with her. Have a good time, she said. He nodded and backed out of the door, then slipped the frame out of his pants and carried it in front of him so she wouldnt

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see it as he walked away. When he got to Beth Anns screen door, he heard voices. Nanna and Beth Ann. Of course! He should have known shed invite Nanna. He wondered what he should do with the frame, and was thinking of stashing it next to the back door steps, when Beth Ann opened the door. There you are, she said. Come on in. She held the screen door open for him, so he walked in, holding the gift close to him. Nanna, she yelled, Beaus here. She backed up allowing him space, then looked down at the package in his hands. So, did you bring something to read in case you got bored? No, its... he looked around for Nanna. She must have been in the bathroom. Its for you, but Id rather give it to you later, he whispered. Okay, she said. She looked curious, suspicious of him, but then nodded. Just put it on the hutch right there until...until youre ready. He shoved it on the shelf quickly before Nanna came back into the room, though he could see Beth Ann watching him out of the corner of her eye.

Beau liked to guess peoples personality types by the way they ate. Nanna, for instance, peeled only a few shrimp and tossed them in with her salad, covering it with Thousand Island dressing. She put her fork down between each bite, then dabbed her mouth with a napkin whether she needed to or not. Refined. Very concerned with manners and decorum. Beth Ann ate all of her salad first, then peeled her shrimpall twelve of thembefore eating one. When they were all peeled, she took the husks to the

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garbage and washed her hands. Back at the table, she arranged them in a semicircle on the plate with the cocktail sauce in the middle. She never ate a bite without first dipping it into the sauce. She liked spicy things; liked hot food (the cocktail sauce was full of horseradish). She was patient enough to wait in order to get things just right. He, on the other hand, peeled one, then popped one until his entire portion was gone. Then and only then did he eat his salad. He supposed that he could derive from his own behavior what he already knew about himself. He was a live-for-the-moment kind of guy, and went with what was healthy for him only when there was nothing else left. I got a notice today in the mail about conserving water, Nanna said. Did you all get one? No, Beth Ann said. Well it was signed by your husband. I knew he had a meeting with the Water Board last week. It says we can water our gardens only on Tuesdays and Thursdays. What kind of garden lives on that kind of schedule, I ask you? Beth Ann smiled at Beau. Here we go, she said. The battle between Will and Nanna about water conservation. Its legendary around here. Well, I dont see why I have to be singled out just because you married him. He doesnt single you out, Beth Ann stood to clear the table.

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Yes, he does, she said. Wait till we have our next community meeting. Nanna helped Beth Ann take the plates to the sink. When he pushed back his chair, Nanna motioned him to stay seated. You should come to the next meeting, Beau. Weve got one next week. Youre part of this community, now. Yeah, Beau. Theres plenty of boredom to go around, Beth Ann said. She smiled at him from the sink. Hush, that, Nanna said. What does that say about me, since Im the president? She slapped Beth Ann on her rear end with a dishtowel. Youre never too old that I cant spank you, young lady, she said. Beau took the last of the dishes to the sink. Beth Ann finished scraping them and putting them into the dishwasher while Nanna went on fussing about her garden and how it would surely die. And how she would water it at midnight while everyone was asleep if she had to. Then, after she proclaimed that Will Morgan was not too old to be spanked, himself, she opened a plastic bowl full of teacakes and passed them around. Beth Ann poured fresh iced tea for everyone, but Nanna refused. Ive got to get to bed, she said. Im pooped. Beau looked to Beth Ann to get some kind of message. Did she expect him to leave when Nanna left? She did not look at him, but took another cookie from the bowl and offered one to him. He took it, but walked toward the door as Nanna did. This has been real nice, she said. And Im glad you got to come, Beau.

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Its always good seeing you, Nanna, he said. It sounded like flattery, but he meant it. Oh, if you dont mind, please remind Rachel that tomorrow is food co-op day. Shell need to be at the community house around nine a.m. Okay, Beau said, hesitantly. Its a food share kind of thing. The neighborhood volunteers go in together and buy bulk once a month. And its your turn to distribute, Nanna told Beth Ann. Which means you have to be there at seven oclock when Werdner brings it back from Tuscaloosa. Great, Beth Ann said. Cant wait. The key to the community house is on the nail in the kitchen. Well, I should be going too, Beau said. Dont rush off on my account, Nanna said. No, I really should, he said. He paused at the door, waiting for a sign from Beth Ann. He would stay with the least bit of encouragement, so he waited just inside the door, knowing that once he stepped outside, she might think he wanted to go. Good night, Nanna, Beth Ann said. She reached toward Beau, then flipped on the outside light. Nanna took small steps, as if she were afraid of tripping over a rock and turning her ankle. Should I walk her home? he whispered to Beth Ann. No, she whispered. Shes fine.

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Well, I really enjoyed it. Me too. She smiled at him, then put her hands into her pockets. He turned to go. Wait, she said. What did you bring me? She walked to the hutch and picked up the package. He stepped back toward the center of the kitchen, glad to be away from the door. I love surprises, she said. She smiled and unfolded it. What in the world? Then she went solemn, almost frowning. She bit her bottom lip, then looked up at him with teary eyes. Where? she started, then stopped. She turned it over as if the answers she needed were on the back of the frame. He began to wonder if what he did, was a good thing. She flipped it back and stared at it, tracing it with her finger. I found it in some old photographs stored away in an antique dresser out in the shed. Nanna, Rachel, and I were looking through them and we found it. I dont even remember it being taken, she said. She cocked her head as if she were about to break down. It was 1962. Im sorry about the frame. There wasnt much to pick from at the hardware store. She shook her head. Its perfect, she said. I guess Ill go, he said. Since you have to get up early and all. You dont have to. She looked up from the picture, her eyes wet. I could make coffee. She looked back at the frame and shook her head. I dont

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remember when somebody has done anything this thoughtful for me. She bit her bottom lip and looked at him. Then she grabbed him around the neck and hugged him so tight that he could feel her breasts against his chest. He returned the hug, wrapping his arms around her with one hand on the flat of her back and the other reaching into her hair. It seemed as though he had been holding her for hours when she finally released her grip on him and stepped back. She wiped her face with her hands, then looked at him with the strange expression people get when they finally recognize someone theyve been trying to place. She swallowed hard, then looked at the area around his face, as if examining his hair. Then, without any kind of warning, she kissed him. Her lips were so soft and the pressure so light, that Beau wondered if they were really making contact. The dog scratched on the back door screen and whimpered, scaring him, I guess someones jealous, he said. He opened the door and the dog bounded inside and jumped up on Beth Ann, who had to shift her weight to keep balanced. She grabbed the monstrous dog around the neck and nuzzled her face in his fur. He assumed there would be no more kissing. The moment had passed, and she was probably embarrassed for what she had done. Id better go, he said. He opened the screen door and walked down the steps, careful not to let the door slam. Thanks for dinner. Thank you, she said. The dog was back on all fours, but she still reached down to pet him. Thanks for the gift, Beau.

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Beau nodded and walked toward home, wondering if she was watching him. He listened for the door to see how long it took her to close it, or if she would lock it. When he walked into Rachels kitchen, he did not turn on the light, but stood a few feet from the window above the sink and looked for Beth Ann. The light was still on in her kitchen, but she was out of his frame of vision. How was supper? Rachel turned on the kitchen light and stood at the refrigerator. She looked at him, then back at the window. It was good, he said. He pulled a glass from the drainer and filled it with tap water, drinking it as if he were thirsty. Very nice. Was Nanna there? Rachel walked to him and reached past him to get a glass of her own. She filled the glass with water, but looked out the window toward the house next door. The overhead light went off in Beth Anns kitchen, but a fluorescent above the sink still shone. In the background behind the fluorescent glow, Beth Ann walked from one side of the frame to the other, not stopping and not looking in their direction. Yes, she was there, Beau said. He poured out the rest of water and turned the glass upside down in the drainer. Rachel nodded, but still looked out the window. Beau walked behind her and to the door leading to the hall. Good night, he said. He pushed past the swinging door and down the hall to his room knowing he would not sleep tonight.

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CHAPTER TWELVE Hanovi Waitioma Beth Ann did not like her new name and accused me of manipulating her vision. You were prejudiced, she said, because you knew the story about the deer. I told her that Strong Deer Running was a great and noble name. But I dont want to be a deer! she said. See, Hiram said. I told you she could not understand. She thinks that everything that is past should be forgotten, when her past is her only great teacher. I am here. Why do you talk as if Im not, Beth Ann said. The three of us were in Hirams truck, driving Highway 89 back to the Reservation. I sat in the middle. Are you ashamed of me? she asked Hiram. I am not ashamed. I only wish you could see, Hiram said. I can see, she said. What he means, I said, is that he wishes you could see things his way.

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Its not my way, Woman. Its the Hopi way. She wants to be part of the way, but not live it. Have I not slept on your floor and ground corn for the past few months? No phone. No electricity. I listen to your stories, go to your dances, and I havent eaten in three days... She only speaks of what she has given up, Hiram said. Strong. You are strong, I said to Beth Ann. Deer. The deer has power over the rain. He feeds us when we are hungry. Running. You are running now even as we drive. Strong Deer Running. Running away, Hiram said. Im not running away from anything. It was not Strong Deer Running Away, I reminded Hiram. But she is, he said. Running away from Alabama, now running away from the Great Spirit. Soon she will run away from here. Let me out at Tuba City, Beth Ann said, placing her hand on the door handle. See! Hiram said. Stop it, I told them. Stop using words that hurt you both, or Ill be the one getting out at Tuba City. She.. Hiram started. You, Beth Ann yelled. Say you when youre talking to me! You, Strong Deer Running, have not learned the most important lesson of all. You, Strong Deer Running, are not satisfied with the Pattern of Life given to

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you by your Great Creator. The path is ahead of you and the Great Creator is lighting the way. You are strong. You have great powers. You are running. You just keep stepping off the path and running through...cactus. There was no talking until we arrived at Tuba City. We stopped at a corner to buy gasoline, but Beth Ann did not get out of the truck. When Hiram finished pumping, he walked around to Beth Anns side of the truck and opened the door. Do you still want to take a separate journey? he asked her. She shook her head. Its hard to run, she said, with thorns in your hooves.

Beau was in the middle of a drug bust, banging on the door and yelling New Orleans Police! when he awoke. It was Rachel pounding on the door, and it was six in the morning. What? He pulled the sheet over him, not knowing if she would open the door. Nannas here. She wants to speak to you. Give me a minute. He waited until he could hear her walk away, then jumped up. His heart panicked as if he hadnt been dreaming, and was making a bust, the adrenaline pumping inside him like a locomotive. He looked around for his clothes. They were in a pile by the door next to a manila envelope he bought yesterday. It was fat and already addressed to Erick Candelarias home, though he vaguely remembered stuffing and addressing it. He slipped into his boots and stumbled toward the kitchen, stuffing his hair down into his T-shirt collar. Nanna

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had not wasted any time. She obviously had seen them kissing at the door, and was herefirst thing in the morningto tell him that he was out of bounds. Good morning, he said. Rachel sat at the table drinking coffee. Nanna stood at the window where he and Rachel had stood the night before. He looked to the coffeepot wanting just one cup before all hell broke loose, but it was perking, dropping only teaspoons at the time. Beau, I need to ask a favor, Nanna said. She walked toward him with her hands clasped. I hate to, but I have to. Beau nodded. So she had decided to take the high road. Shed ask him as a favor to leave town and never contact Beth Ann again, for the sake of family and the American way. My cousin Floyd from Huntsville just drove into town. Hes on his way to an Airstream convention down in Pensacola, and he decided at the last minute to come this way and see if Id like to go with him. She pointed out the window. Beau looked out and saw the Airstream parked in Beth Anns driveway. He nodded. I already told Beth Ann that Id help her with the food co-op this morning, but Floyd needs to be there by noon in order to check in. Ill help her, he said. You go on. Would you? Nanna clasped her hands and smiled at him, then put her arm on his shoulder. I just have one more favor to ask before I go. Beau nodded. Keep your hands off her, he imagined her saying. Beth Ann took the key to the community house earlier, and now shes not home. Werdners already at the meeting hall with all the food, and hes not about

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to lift a finger until someone else gets there. I think shes out jogging, but Floyd doesnt want to drag the Airstream down all those dirt roads looking for her... Ill go find her, he said. Bless your heart. Nanna reached over and patted him on the shoulder. Youre an angel, she said. You go on, Nanna, Rachel said. And have a good time. Everything will be fine. Thank you both, Nanna said. She shuffled to the door and stood there waving. She stepped down the stairs and held the screen door until it closed. I owe you one, Beau, she said. Beau took a deep breath and held it. Looks like Beth Anns going to have the place to herself for a while, Rachel said. Guess so, Beau said. He pulled a coffee cup from the cabinet and placed it next to the coffeepot so it would be there on his way out. Rachel stood and walked to the counter where she laid her cup in the sink. She started to stay something, her mouth open and her hands stretched out, palms facing him, then walked to the swinging door and paused there without looking back. If you dont mind, please bring back our bag of groceries from the co-op. She walked through the door, letting it swing back and forth like a barroom door. While he dressed Beau deliberated on the best way to approach Beth Ann with the news, knowing that Werdner was at the old schoolhouse bitching and moaning. He wasnt sure of Beth Anns running route or how long it took her,

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but he was sure he could find her. Rachel was cutting a dress pattern in the middle of the dining room floor. She wore kneepads and an apron with lots of pockets and sewing items in it. Would you happen to know where Beth Ann runs every morning? Rachel did not look up, but stopped cutting. She leaned back on her heels, then removed a straight pen from her mouth. I know she runs down Millers Hollow, the road that runs diagonal to the graveyard, and Ive heard her say that she goes all the way to the mounds before turning around. He angled his head to try to make out what the huge pattern would become. What is it? A wedding dress, she said. Junes full of brides. Well, Id better go. Werdners sure not going to start without me. Be careful, Rachel said. He paused for a second wondering what danger could befall him in his drive to find Beth Ann. Rachel resumed cutting the pattern, keeping her head down and humming to herself.

He found her at the mounds, but she wasnt running. She sat on the picnic table with her back to his car, overlooking the Warrior River. He closed the car door so he wouldnt startle her. She didnt turn around to see who he was, and this bothered him. Didnt she know the danger of letting down her guard in a deserted place where any nut case could come driving up? He walked around the table to face her.

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Her eyes were closed with her hands resting on her crossed legs. I couldve been a murderer, he said. And youd be an easy target. She didnt budge, not even to open her eyes. I thought you stopped being a cop, she said. He moved closer to her to examine her eyes and see if she was peeking, but as he did, she opened them. You have a muffler problem, she said. And your engine ticks long after you shut it off. Listen. He turned his ear toward the direction of the car. It was ticking. And you have a distinct pattern when you walk. One foot is heavier than the other. I think its your right one. She smiled at him, then unfolded her legs. What are you, some kind of psychic mechanic? She laughed. Maybe your dad would let me work for him. Better you than me. Besides, she said. I saw you drive up before I sat down. He smiled at her, wanting to reach out and touch that long braid and pull on it, then grabbed her by the waist and kiss her hard, forcing those soft lips open. Im here to tell you that I am Nanna today. She lowered her head and squinted her eyes. I dont think so. Not even close. Shes going to Florida with her cousin in an Airstream. Floyd, she said. Hes always popping by at the most inconvenient times.

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She asked me to take her place, help you and Werdner with the co-op. Are you always so nice, or are you just trying to impress me? Im always nice. Loved by children, grandparents, and most domesticated animals. She laughed and shook her head. Well, I guess my run is over for today. Mind giving me a ride, Mr. Congeniality? Your carriage awaits, bad muffler and all. She grabbed his arm, leaned against him as they walked until they were only feet from the car then she let go of him, and ran ahead, opening the car door for herself. Beau wondered how long it would take her to say that dreaded introduction: About last night... He drove to where the park road met the highway, then paused, looking both ways. I almost got ticketed right here the first day I drove in. Henderson had his radar pointed at me, followed me into town. Henderson is a jerk. But, hey, youll get to see him again today. He buys into the co-op. Hes always early so he can shake his head for having to wait. And let me guess...he wears his uniform. Every single time. I think he sleeps in it. Beth Ann looked at the cemetery as they passed it. Did you ever read that letter your dad gave you to put on your mothers grave? Yeah, he said. She nodded and smiled. Good for you. He pulled the car in front of her house and stopped. I dont suppose you carry the keys with you while you run, do you?

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If I did, Id lose them. Im horrible about losing keys. She jumped out of the car and ran down the flower-lined sidewalk and up the steps to the front porch. She obviously didnt keep her own door locked, because she ran right in. She was back before he could finish asking himself what was going on, before he could calculate how long it was going to take before she turned cold on him. When she was back in the car, he drove them a block farther to the community center and parked the car next to Werdners truck. Werdner sat on the gate of his truck with his feet dangling off, spitting tobacco juice at the ground. Its about time I got some help round here, Werdner said. Beau carried the boxes of cans and cabbage while Werdner toted the bread, complaining about his sciatic nerve and his high arched feet. Beth Ann organized the boxes once they were inside, making sure that the heavy ones were on the left of the stage; the light ones on the right. That way we can stuff the bags like an assembly line, with the heavy stuff in the bottom of the bag and the fragile stuff on top. What time will people start getting here? Beau asked. Around eight. What time is it now? Seven. Good. Were okay. Ive got a cemetery to mow, Werdner said. Nanna came by in a big old silver trailer and told me to mow it before lunch. Said people might come up here for Memorial Day. Besides, my doctor done told me I aint supposed to be lifting.

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Go on, Beth Ann said. Beau and I can handle it from here. Reckon Id better go ahead and get my bag, he said, considering Ill be out there sweating and all. Beth Ann pulled a paper bag from the stack and snapped it open. Werdner didnt budge, but Beau went to help her. Here, Ill hold and you stuff, he told her. She lined the bottom of the bag with canned goods. Dont make it too heavy, now, Werdner said. Beth Ann shot him a glance that would freeze water, then pulled out another bag. Why dont you go ahead and take this one to your car while we get the other one ready, Beau said. Werdner took the bag and walked with it, shuffling his feet across the dusty, wooden floor. Beth Ann put the perishables in the other bag with the cabbage on the bottom. You do this like a professional, Beau said. I worked at the Albertsons in Flagstaff to help pay for my apartment while I was an undergraduate. Employee of the month three times. And I thought you were just another pretty face. Werdner retrieved his second bag, looking inside and asking if everything was fresh. Beth Ann assured him that he got the pick of the crop, then went back to work. So tell me about Arizona, he said. I thought you lived on a reservation. I did, but that was graduate school. It was the greatest time of my life.

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So why did you come back? Beau opened a paper bag and followed behind her, copying her system. In a word, Nanna. She sacrificed to put me through, so I came back to be with her until... She paused with a package of cheese in her hand, then put it in the bag. I just thought Id stay until she didnt need me any more. Beau nodded. In a way, he had hoped for the same. If he stayed a cop until his father died, Greg Gardner would probably buy the garage from his estate. Then hed be free to take the money and run, doing whatever he wanted to do; maybe raising horses in Montana or being a sheriff in Wyoming, or even Arizona. So I came back, got a job, married Will, and became co-op queen. She smiled and curtsied with a stalk of celery as her scepter. Do you miss Arizona? Only when I breathe, she said. She placed the full bag on the table in front of her and started over. What about you? Is being a lawyer some kind of lifelong dream? Only if it means not being a mechanic with grease under my nails. So youd rather have blood under them instead? She smiled, then bumped him with her hip. You sure do talk bad about lawyers to be married to one, he said. Where do you think I get my jokes? Will hates being a lawyer, which is why hes pursuing politics. Is he thinking on a larger scale? Hes been approached. Can you see me as a senators wife?

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He stopped bagging for a moment and looked at her, careful not to let his eyes wander from hers. No, I cant. But youd make one hell of a senator. You are good, she said. Always knowing just what to say.

They had every bag stuffed and were sitting on the edge of the stage by the time Henderson came strutting in. He looked into the bags, then glanced around the empty building. Wheres Will? Fishing, Beth Ann said. And Nanna? He hitched his pants and brushed his pistol with his hand. Florida. Beth Anns voice had a snippy quality to it that Beau remembered shed used the day Henderson brought Lana to the house. Have you met Beau? she asked, her voice changing to a fake friendliness. Yes I have, he said. Henderson nodded, then squinted, as if someone might jump out from behind the tattered stage curtain and draw on him. He used to be a New Orleans detective, she said. He won medals and commendations. He was cop of the year once. Beau looked at her, not believing what she was saying. She smiled at him, then patted him on the shoulder. Im sure you read all about it. Henderson looked at Beau without blinking. Is that right, he said, unimpressed. I keep telling him he ought to sign on here, but hed dead set on becoming a lawyer.

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Henderson picked up a bag, then looked at Beth Anns bare legs, trailing them from her thighs to her shoes, then looked at Beau. He squinted his eyes again, something he did, Beau thought, to imitate Dirty Harry. If you talk to Will, tell him I did that errand for him. Hell know what I mean. Im sure he will, Beth Ann said. It was a nasty tone that Beau never wanted her to use with him. Several other people walked in and made their way to the tables, hindering Henderson from leaving with a dramatic exit. Do me a favor, Beau said, whispering to her. If you ever start to hate me that much, give me advance notice so I can get out of town. She jumped down from the stage and laughed. How could I ever hate Beau LeFoy, New Orleans own Cop of the Year?

A teenage girl with white shorts and cropped top that showed her midriff walked into the room with another girl who looked to be in training. The one thats half naked is giving Robin hell at school. Beth Ann whispered to Beau. Her name is Brandi Coshatt. When she saw Beau, Brandi whispered something to her friend, and they both smiled. The closer they got to the table, the more Brandi prissed. Oh, boy, Beth Ann mumbled out of the side of her mouth. Prepare to be dazzled. Hi, Mrs. Morgan, Brandi said, drawing her words into more syllables than necessary. Wheres Robin? She did not look around for Robin, but stared at Beau. He began to wonder if his pants were unzipped. Shes spending time with her mother, Beth Ann said.

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You know we have English together, she said. Yes, I know. Beth Ann held out a bag to Brandi, but she didnt accept it right away, her eyes still fixed on Beau. So howd you do on that English final? Beau asked her, hoping shed made something lower than Robin, so he could zing her. Ninety five, she said. I misspelled two words. Three points higher than Robin. He kept thinking. How do you know about the test? she asked. Robin and I...well, were real tight. He gestured with two fingers crossed. In fact, shes told me a lot about you...and you. He nodded at the other girl, whose face turned crimson. Beth Ann forced the bag into Brandis arms and walked back toward him, raising her eyebrows and smiling. Brandi blinked and looked around. What did she make on the final? she asked, forcing a smile. A ninety six, he said. Isnt that right? He looked to Beth Ann who nodded and said she thought that was right. Shes a great speller, that Robin, he said. Well, wed better go. Brandi looked at her friend. Weve got cheerleader practice. Nice meeting you, Beau said. Ill tell Robin you asked about her. Okay, they said halfheartedly. When they were out of the door, Beth Ann gave him a high five and asked him where he learned to lie so well. From you, he said. Im a quick study.

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When all the grocery bags were gone with the exception of theirs, Beau hated leaving. His stomach rumbled, though reminding him that he had not eaten. Sorting all these vegetables has made me hungry, he told Beth Ann. She grabbed her bag and followed him, careful to turn out all the lights and close the door behind them. Does that Miss Melissas serve home cooking? Smothered in lard, she said. He guessed that she thought that was a bad thing, so he dropped the idea. So where do you go when you want home cooked vegetables? Nannas, she said. But shes off gallivanting on the beaches. They walked the one block to their houses, then stopped, shifting the grocery bags from arm to arm. Theres a really good place called City Cafe, but its in Tuscaloosa. I need to go there, to Tuscaloosa, to get some supplies for the house... She nodded and looked around. She had grown quiet on him and it made him insecure, wondering if she was getting bored with him. Would you like to go with me? I could use someone to show me where everything is... She looked at him then at herself, her running clothes. Like this? Sure, he said. You look great. She gave him a distrustful look. How do I know youre not lying, Mr. Quick Study? Cause I would never lie to you. Ever. He gave her the best innocent look he had, then smiled, knowing she knew he was full of shit.

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Just let me put away these groceries, she said, but dont think for a minute I believe you.

They drove with the top down, yelling at each other in order to be heard. Beth Ann caught the wind with her right hand, resisting it, then letting it flow over her. She couldnt believe how wonderful she felt, reminded of the day she drove her beat-up Chevy, down from Stephen Butte into Keams Canyon, the three mesas rising into a cloudless sky. She had wished so much then that she owned a convertible so she could pull back the top and let the breeze wash over her. Was that a full moon last night? Beau asked her. He had to lean toward her to be heard, the hair on his right arm brushing against hers, chilling her in ninety-eight degree weather. Tonight, she said. He nodded. His hair was pulled back again, like last night. She had mulled over the events for hours, barely sleeping longer than thirty minutes at the time. The kiss was reactionary on her behalf, she concluded. A reflexive moment to reward a thoughtful gesture. A gift for a gift, like Hiram had taught her. Though she had to admit she hadnt laid one on Hiram every time he told her a story or invited her to a ceremony. Nanna said you were married once, she said. Was it for long? Half a minute. And about a minute too long. Children? What? he leaned over to her. Were there children?

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Its a long story, he said. She thought the worst, guessing he had three or four kids draining him for child support money, kids he saw only once in a while, kids who treated him like a stranger when he came by to pick them up. And of course, there would be an exwife that dealt him misery every day of his life. She looked away. What about you? When are you and Will going to give Robin a brother or sister? Probably never, she said, though she didnt believe it. Why not? Dont you like children? I love them. I just cant have them. Why not? Will had a vasectomy when he was married to Lana. Hes had it reversed, but we dont know if it worked. Why not? She looked at him, wondering why she was telling him any of this. Because its too soon to tell. Why did he have a vasectomy so young? Apparently thats what men did in the seventies. The wives told them that was it, and they had themselves cut. It was a ritual proving eternal love and devotion. And now theyre married to other women, women whove never had kids, and theyre shooting blanks. Youve got it, she said.

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What? he asked, leaning his ear toward her. Youve got it. Yeah, Ive got sperm. She laughed at him. What? Whats so funny?

City Cafe was packed with college kids sitting on the curb outside for the next available booth. Its this way all the time, she told Beau. But the turn around is pretty fast. Ill go get us a number. He let her out in front, then drove across the street to park. The cashier tore a piece of paper off a stack of tickets and gave it to Beth Ann. I thought theyd all be gone by now, Beth Ann said, nodding at the students. Its finals week, the clerk said. Itll be like a ghost town next week. Beth Ann squirmed her way out of the crowd and back outside. A number was called and two people stood, leaving a wrought iron bench vacant. She sat down and looked for Beau. This was her idea, bringing him here, running his errands with him. Since the day she met him her mouth had been popping off without her brain. Beau paused at the edge of the street for a passing car, then walked toward her. She looked at the co-eds seated around her to see if they were staring at him, noticing how handsome he was in his jeans and his boots, the way he was bow-legged and walked with his hands in his pockets. But they were too busy talking to see how he smiled at her when he crossed the road, how he zeroed in on her as if she were the only person sitting there.

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Im starving, he said. He sat down beside her, resting his arm on the back of the bench. His freckles intensified with the sun, highlighting his eyes like a chochokpi. What? he asked, looking at her. Nothing, I was just thinking... About what? Nothing, really. She looked away, watching two girls in sorority Tshirts sitting on the curb. One was showing the other her bracelet, twisting it around her arm. Its my hair, isnt it? You dont like long hair. No! she said. I was thinking about a Hopi word, chochokpi, its when the branches of a spruce tree form a throne for the clouds, like this. She held her wrists together and formed a U shape with her hands, then lifted them toward the sky. See how the clouds seem to sit in my hands? He leaned back, shifted toward her, his hips touching hers. Thats the way a spruce does sometimes. Its a good sign. So, did you see that earlier, somewhere? Kind of, she said. He nodded then scooted back to his side of the bench. I love long hair. On men and women. Most men on the Reservation have long hair. Its important for ceremonies. Its sacred, long hair. Right, he said. Tell that to the Baptist church my old man goes to. Seriously, she said. What about Samson? I dont know my Bible stories all that well, but isnt he the dude whose wife did him in by cutting his hair?

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Yeah, she said. Her name was Delilah. So the moral of this story is never let a woman tell you what to do with your hair? Among others, Beth Ann said. Someone yelled their number from inside the cafe. Thats us. Our tables ready. They wriggled and weaved their way to the booth in the back of the cafe, then ordered. The waitress sat a pitcher of sweet tea on the table and brought them a plate of cornbread. My father used to swear he married my mother because she could make good cornbread. Romantic, huh? Beau said. I know people who have married for less romantic reasons than that. Guess so, Beau said. Their orders were ready in minutes, the waitress bringing them plates loaded with cream corn, green beans, boiled squash, and fried okra. When a couple gets married on the Reservation, theres a hair washing ceremony. The mother of the bride washes the grooms hair and the mother of the groom washes the brides hair using yucca suds from the same bowl. Afterwards, the bride and groom join hands and sit in the sun until both of their hair dries. Beau put down his fork. Now that is romantic. No cooking cornbread first? No, but she does have to grind corn for four days solid without saying a word. Maybe my parents were Indian and I just didnt know it. Could be, she said. At any rate, you shouldnt cut your hair.

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A woman stood at the entrance of the Home Repair Superstore and stopped Beau before they could step inside. Excuse me, Sir. Would you and your wife like to apply for a store account? Beau looked back at Beth Ann, his face red. I dont think so, he said, stepping forward. You each get a free HRS T-shirt just for signing up, she smiled at them, holding up a bright green T-shirt with a man and a hammer on the front. And if youre approved, which only takes fifteen minutes and can be done while you browse around our store, youll also get ten percent off anything you buy today at HRS. Come on, Honey, Beth Ann said, grabbing his arm. Ive always wanted one of those shirts. The lady grinned at Beth Ann and handed the form to Beau. When he completed the form, the lady handed them both a T-shirt and told Beau his temporary card would be at the register when he was ready to check out. Beau nudged Beth Ann as they walked toward the center of the store. You missed your calling, he told her. You should have been an actress. She held the shirt to her chest and laughed. Hey, ten percent is ten percent. Okay, he said. A thrifty actress. Beth Ann decided to check out the gardening section while Beau ordered roofing shingles. Ill find you when Im finished, she said. She walked through

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the aisles taking her time, thinking about projects that needed to be done on the house, knowing Will would never have time to do them. In the gardening department, she found an eight-piece portable gardening kit that looked like a small suitcase, weatherproof and sturdy. She picked one up for Nanna. She looked at the flowers, wondering if she should plant some around the house. Nanna was always after her about planting; telling her that it was good for the soul. She picked up a pot of cornflower asters, already in bloom, and decided to plant it near the back door. It became difficult balancing the shirt, the plant, and the gardening kit, so she went back to the front of the store to get a cart. She struggled with two carts that were stuck together, pulling on one and pushing on the other. An older man who worked there tried to help her, but she gave up and turned to get a cart a woman was returning. That was when she saw Robin and Lana. They were standing at the counter not even one hundred feet away, having a key made. Beth Ann jerked back around, dropping the gardening kit to the floor in a loud thud. She stooped to the floor; hoping Robin had not followed the sound and seen her. Here, the old man said. He picked up the kit and stood. And Ive got you a cart, now. He smiled at her and waited for her to stand. Thank you, she said. She dropped her items into the cart and pushed it quickly in the opposite direction of Robin and Lana, careful not to look back or even show her profile until she was safely on the other side of an aisle. She peeped around the corner. Robin was not looking her way, but was thumbing through a magazine. Beth Ann looked down the aisle, trying to calculate how far

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away from Beau she had become. She had to warn him, yet they had to keep their distance. If Robin and Lana saw them together, there would be hell to pay. How could she ever explain it, how they were there together while Will was out of town. Her best defense was to keep an eye on them, while looking for Beau. She edged around the corner of the aisle and kept her head down until she reached the center of the store, then took a quick right. After a second or two, she looked back. They walked away from the key counter and headed toward the middle of the store only a few aisles down from Beth Ann. She turned and strolled down the aisle toward the back of the store. The squeaky wheel of the cart sounded like wailing the faster she walked. At the end of aisle with the kitchen sinks and faucets, she waited, listening for Robins voice or just the sound of walking, since they didnt have a squeaky cart to give them away. When she thought all was clear, she lowered her head and turned the corner to the left. She glanced back, but saw no one. Roofing, of all things. Shed never been to a roofing section of a store in her life. Where would that be? She looked down each aisle, sorting through weaving heads, looking for a long, black ponytail. Nothing. At the end of the store, she had to turn around. This time she walked toward the front of the store, looking for two red heads; one teased and the other straight. She read the signs, looking for roofing supplies. Excuse me, she asked a young boy in a green apron, Wheres the roofing supplies? Aisle eight, he said, pointing.

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She located the aisle then walked toward it, careful to keep her head down. At the edge of aisle seven, she made a quick turn and looked up. There was Beau, standing in the middle of the aisle. In front of him, with their backs to Beth Ann were Robin and Lana talking to him. He glanced past them and spotted her, then looked too quickly back at Robin. Beth Ann abandoned her cart and darted back around the corner. She needed distance, but couldnt go back to the car. There was no telling how close they had parked to Beau, and nothing would be more incriminating than to find her sitting in his car. She walked away from them as fast as she could, back to the gardening section where she would stay. That way she could hide behind a plant and watch as everyone came to the front to check out. This is ridiculous, she mumbled to herself. Robin and Lana left shortly afterwards, pushing a cart with a huge box in it. Robin was smiling, having had her daily dosage of Beau. Lana walked straight although it was afternoon. Beth Ann took a deep breath and gave them enough time to get to their car and pull out of the parking lot. She found Beau at the corner of aisle seven standing next to her abandoned cart. Do you think they saw me? she asked. No. Is this not crazy? She stood behind the cart and leaned on the handle. I dont know why I feel so guilty. He looked at her for a long while, then reached out for his own cart. What were they doing here, anyway?

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Buying Will something for Fathers Day, he said. They got him a lawn mower to keep at Lanas house. It seems the one hes been using is broken down. Hes been cutting her grass? Beth Ann shoved the cart into a cardboard display. No wonder hes never got any time...Damn him! She pulled the cart back toward her as the boy in the green apron came by and righted the display. You didnt know? Of course I didnt know. Do you think for a moment Id think thats okay? I dont know. He pushed his cart to one of the registers and started loading the counter. I didnt know what kind of arrangement you two might have. Beth Ann fumed, trying to devise a way to confront Will about it without giving herself away, without his knowing that she saw them there, and Beau told her what they were buying. Any way she phrased it, it would sound suspicious. But what was she afraid of ? She wasnt the one doing anything wrong. At least not yet. Beau loaded the car and plopped in the seat behind the wheel. What now? Can you believe him? He cant find time to go to the fucking doctor to get a sperm count, but hes mowing that hussys yard.

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Beau slid the key into the ignition, but didnt crank the car. Instead, he turned sideways in his seat and faced her, pulling his right knee under him. Maybe I shouldnt have said anything. Yes, you should! I need to know. Wouldnt you want to know? Beau nodded and looked back at her. I wish there was something I could do, he said. He looked sad, as if it had been he who let her down. She reached out and touched his knee. Im sorry, she said. She squeezed his knee, took back her hand. He reached out to her then, putting his hand on the left side of her face. She leaned into his hand, closing her eyes and feeling the rough skin on his fingers. Can I take you somewhere for a drink? She wanted a drink, and wanted to be with him, but not in a crowded bar with all that smoke and loud music. Im kind of tired, she said. Maybe another time. Beau nodded, turned back around, and cranked the car. The drive home was quiet, interrupted only occasionally by a favorite song or a chatty comment about the heat. When they drove down the drive between their respective homes, Beth Ann wished Beau could turn left at the tree and park behind her house. Thanks, she told him as she got out of his car. Thanks for everything. Thank you, he said, smiling. I dont remember the last time I got such a cool T-shirt. He held up the green shirt, stretched it across his chest and smiled.

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Your friends awfully cute, her mother said once they were in the car. You said he lives next door to your father? Yeah, Robin said. She didnt want to talk about him too much for fear that her mother would want to date him or at the least tell her he was too old for her. He does work for Rachel. Robin couldnt believe her good luck. First her mother had taken her to Fast Feet and bought her not one, but two pairs of softball shoesone for practice and one pair for gamesthen she had seen Beau. It was weird at first, finding him away from the house next door, seeing him all dressed up with not one drop of sweat on him. He was even smiling when she discovered him, smiling for no apparent reason while looking for roofing nails. He must have been shocked to see her too, by the way he started off so shy. He looked around her and behind her, she guessed, wondering if she had driven herself or if someone had brought her. Her mother walked up. She was nice, though, not embarrassing her or treating her like a baby. Sounds like he likes you, she said. The way he lied about your grade to Brandi. Robin was blown away when he told her how he had cold-cocked Brandi Coshatt, but she still had questions about what Beau was doing there at the community center and what Beth Ann had told him about Brandi. Surely, she hadnt told him everything. Shed die if she had! Then hed think she was a dork and wouldnt have anything to do with her.

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I think your dad will like his Fathers Day gift. Yeah, Robin said, knowing he wouldnt. He had told her mother a million times to hire someone to cut the grass, but she always balked until hed come over and cut it himself with the broken-down mower hed left behind. He made Robin promise she wouldnt tell Beth Ann, though she never wouldve thought to do so. She needed a journal or two just to keep track of what she could and couldnt say to each of her parents and why. Do you want to go to the batting cage? Her mother sipped on a Diet Coke as she drove. Isnt it somewhere around here? Its to the left. Want to go? I dont mind watching. Sure. Robin pulled her practice shoes out of the bag and laced them up. She didnt know what had gotten into her mother, but she was sure it wasnt alcohol. One thing she did know was that if making a good grade helped to get her mother in this kind of mood and make Beau take up for her in front of Brandi Coshatt, then shed make all As next year.

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CHAPTER THIRTEEN Maasauus Warnings Maasauu is a Helper Spirit, serving the Creator. His assignment is to guard the earth. He, unlike the Creator, lives on the earth and watches over it. He is not pretty, though; his face beaten and blood spattered from all his battles with the forces of evil for control of the earth. That is why he wears a mask. He is the savior of the Hopi just as Christ is the Savior of the Christian world. He, like Christ, gave instructions and warnings, laying out the plan so that all who follow will have a long, happy, and peaceful life. The elders say, In our language, the name Hopi, has held the same meaning from the beginning. It names those who live by the plan laid out by the spirit, Maasauu. Bloodline is important, but the word means a whole way of life as well. This is what Hiram told Beth Ann that day on the drive back from Tuba City. When a Hopi is ordained into the higher religious order, the Earth and all living things are placed on his hands. He becomes a father to all. He must correct his children, all of them, whatever way he can. This is why I tell you your attitude must change. Beth Ann stared out the window, tears running down her face and chin. I touched her arm, then held her hand. He does not tell you this to hurt you, I told her. He loves you. Beth Ann nodded and looked away. There are ten warnings that I will explain to you in detailwarnings that Maasauu gave us to live by. I will tell them to you now. You live by these warnings, and you will be as close to a Hopi as any Bahanna can become.

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1. Make careful choiceschoosing your path rather than having it choose you. 2. Avoid temptation by recognizing it and knowing how it works. 3. Avoid pitfalls. Dont step into traps thinking they will improve your life. 4. Listen to your elders and the teachings of old. 5. Be self-sufficient, for others will let you down. 6. Prepare in advance, reviewing what has happened to you in the past and predict what may happen to you again. 7. Use ancient teaching as a guideline. 8. Protect the laws of nature and spirit, respecting all living things. 9. Dont try to control others. 10. Be satisfied with the Pattern of Life given to us by our Great Creator.

Rachel and Tommy had moved the television and VCR into the living room and sat there laughing in the dark at a juvenile movie featuring some little kid hitting bad guys in the head with paint cans. They barely noticed Beau when he walked in, except for Rachel asking him where he had been all day. He told her the truth, only leaving out whom he had done it with. Your dinners in the oven, she said. Beau stood at the counter next to the sink toying with the macaroni and beef concoction. Since hed gotten back, he hadnt seen Beth Ann pass the window in her kitchen, and all the other lights on his side of the house were off. It was hard for him to imagine her anywhere other than in the kitchen, since it was the only room he had ever seen. He couldnt imagine her watching television in

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her living room or reading a book in her bedroom. He wondered what it was like inside that air-conditioned home, where the barefooted hostess boiled shrimp, drank Bloody Marys, and played music so loud that he could hear it outside while he worked. Her kitchen was all white and modern with black and white checkered tile. Was it modern throughout with leather furniture and chrome accessories? The notion didnt fit her and what he knew about her, but what did he really know? He just wanted to see the house, all of it, spend time browsing through her book collection, staring at her framed pictures, asking her where she got her art. He scraped the food into the garbage bin and rinsed his plate, wishing shed just come outside for a minute so he could talk to her, make her laugh so shed invite him inside. He walked back through the living rooms blue hue to the front porch. The beer in the refrigerator was icy cold, so he put one to his forehead. He popped the top and took a swig, but it didnt satisfy him. Maybe he should go find a bar that played sad music. Maybe he should drag the Jack Daniels out from under his bed. Nothing appealed to him, nothing but the idea of being in that house with her. Hed watch a stupid movie with her and not think twice about it. And if she served up some macaroni and beef shit hed eat it, grinning all the while. He had two days until Will got back. Beau walked to the screened door and poured out the beer.

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Beth Ann mixed a pitcher of Bloody Marys using twice the vodka and half the juice, turned on her Native American music, then slipped into a bubble bath that was so hot she could barely tolerate it. She lay in the scalding water wondering what do to, how to handle this latest news. In college, she had learned about psychosocial moratorium, where a person, while faced with a major decision in her life, decides simply not to decide. She submerged herself in the water and lay there on the bottom until her lungs hurt, then she slid up to where the inflatable pillow fit perfectly behind her neck. Will gave it to her for Mothers Day, pretending it was from Robin. The water was tepid when the phone woke her. She let it ring, wishing she had thought to take it off the hook. The machine had answered it by the time she pulled herself out of the tub and wrapped her robe around her. There was a pause after the tone, then: Beth Ann, its Beau. I just wanted to call and see if youre okay... She ran to the kitchen and picked up the receiver. Im fine, she told him. I was in the bath. He didnt say anything, prompting her to consider how hard it must be for him to call with Tommy and Rachel in the house. I was just going to ask if you had reconsidered my offer to go somewhere for a drink. God, no, she said. Ive already drunk a half bottle of vodka. Its a miracle I didnt drown in the tub. Okay, he said. I guess Ill see you sometime tomorrow. Beau? She waited to see if he was still there.

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Yeah. I had the best time I can remember today, and Id really like to spend more time with you, get to know you better... I hear a but coming here. She smiled, turned around, and walked to the sink to get a glass of water. Im a mess, she said my marriage is a mess...and trust me you want no part of all this. Dont you think thats something I should decide? I dont want to use you to get back at Will. I wont do that. She turned her back to the window. I like you too much for that. If you like me, then let me get to know you. She thought about knowing: knowing someone well enough to confide in them, knowing someone enough to stop liking them, knowing someone in the Biblical sense. You never really know someone, she said, not really. There you go with that mumbo jumbo again. There was a sound in the background. Listen, he whispered, if you change your mind, meet me at the car in thirty minutes. The phone clicked. Beth Ann looked at the window across the driveway. Rachel was there at the sink, watching her as she broke the connection. She returned the phone to the counter, but left it off the hook. When Will asked her what happened, shed tell him she had a migraine or that Koko accidentally knocked it over.

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She scanned the calendar above the phone and flipped through it, counting the days since the last red X marked her period. When her finger landed on the days date, the 25th, it was the fourteenth daythe day she usually ovulated. She went to the bathroom, retrieved the oral thermometer from the medicine cabinet and sat down in the living room. She kept her fertility notebook in the drawer

of the end table. Will called it her Wish Book. Her temperature on day fourteen was always higher, around ninety-nine or one hundred degrees. She pulled the thermometer from her mouth and examined it. Ninety-nine point eight. She was ovulating. Ordinarily her being away from Will prior to ovulation would be a good thing. If his sperm count were low, a few days build up would come in handy if they had sex on the day she was ovulating. Nevertheless, it would be forty-eight hours before he got home. It wasnt impossible to get pregnant on the sixteenth day, but the chances were considerably lower. All of this speculation rested, of course, on the assumption that Will did have at least a few sperm. If she left now, she could be in Mobile by ten or eleven. Bedtime. Will would be glad to see her. But shed have to detach herself again, forgetting if only for the weekend about the lawn mower. It wouldnt be so hard, knowing what the outcome of their coming together might be. There was a window of opportunity here, but taking it would mean a great deal of pretending: pretending that she was there because she wanted to be there, pretending that the Bledsoles didnt make her sick, pretending that she found the other womens conversations relevant if not entertaining, and pretending that her

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marriage was secure enough to bring into it a child. Maybe Beau had been right when he said she should have been an actress. Maybe she should go with Beau to get a drink, then when they returned she would invite him inside. They would sit on the couch and talk a while, and then theyd kiss each other so passionately that there would be no question what they both wanted. She would take him by the hand and lead him to her bedroom, forgetting that it was also Wills bedroom, because what mattered was the long term, the outcome. Many cultures accepted the sharing of sperm, the sharing of wombs. Only it was sanitized, sterilized, and given clinical names like artificial insemination and in-vitro fertilization. One or two nights with Beau would be a way to cut out the middle man, so to speak and get what she and Will both wanted, a child of their own. No one but she would ever know. Shed seduce Will on Monday night, telling him she was ovulating and feeling lucky. Will, not knowing for sure if he had sperm or not, would be thrilled when he found out his fellas had done the job. Shed be sure to mention to Beau that Wills chances of having sperm were above average. Then, when she made the announcement, her pregnancy by Will would turn Beau away from any romantic inclinations he might have, and shed be free to raise the baby as Wills. Besides, she had been around the block enough times to know that Beau was after one thing and one thing alone. He was of hunter mentality; in for the chase yet not wanting to stick around once the damage was done. Hed burn rubber trying to escape if she even as much as hinted to him that he could be in line for fatherhood.

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A car door slammed. She walked to the kitchen to see Beau as he turned and drove toward the road. She felt a tinge of disappointment, then decided that it was best for both of them that he left. It seemed so logical, so simple. She remembered what Nanna had told her repeatedly: If something seems too good to be true, then thats probably because it is. She was just impatient, that was all, not allowing fate to take its course, running alongside the path looking for shortcuts through the cactus. Shed just wait until next month, after Will had been to the specialist and they discussed all their options, pending, of course, that they had any. The plant she had bought still sat on the table where she had left it when she came in. She opened the gardening kit, examining the tools, realizing too late that Nanna would never use them, opting instead for her old ones until they rusted in two. She slipped into an old pair of shorts and a ragged shirt she wore when she painted, pulled her hair high into a pony tail, then stepped outside to plant her asters. The air was still warm and muggy, hanging over her like a wet web. She sat on the stoop, looking for the right place to plant it, wondering how far from the steps it needed to be, not knowing how large it would grow. It would soon be dusk then time for the full moon. She must work quickly, planting the aster and watering Nannas garden before sunset when she would take her journal, her pen, and her Corn Mother to the reservoir for the Full Moon Ceremony. Hanias words came back to her then, how she always told her she must pray when she planted, when she cultivated, and when she harvested, saying the

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experience would bring her closer to Mother Earth and the rest of creation. It wasnt enough to just dig a hole and dump something into it. She needed a digging stick, one from a fruit-bearing tree. She walked over to Nannas and found a sturdy limb that had fallen from one of her fig trees. When she came back to the house, she noticed a place in the wall where a cinder block was loose. She knelt down and shoved it back into place, then stabbed the stick into the ground in front of it. Father Sun, bless this plant with all your warmth. Mother Earth, in whose breast I plant, nurture your child and protect its path. Grandmother Moon, I plant this being in honor of you, whose full light tonight promises life and fertility. May it grow and reproduce as I wish to one day give from myself the gift of life. Aho. The soil was dry and hard, falling back into the hole as fast as she could dig it, so she put the stick aside and dug with her hands, pulling until the hole was elbow deep. She turned the pot over and pulled out the plant, untangling the roots with her hand. During her year on the reservation, she had witnessed a ceremony during the spring, where a boy and a girl of different clans sat in the kiva while the chief washed their hair. He braided their hair together signifying the union of the two clans, and they sat, joined together by their hair until morning came. She thought of Beaus hair, how the other night, right before they kissed, she had wanted to take it down and run her fingers through it. She had always wondered, when she saw an attractive man with long hair, what it would be like to make love to him. Would it feel as if she were making

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love to a woman, therefore fulfilling some kind of subconscious homoerotic fantasy? Or was it more narcissistic than that, becoming aroused by a man whose hair was long like hers so that in making love to him, she transferred her vanity into a desire for him. Maybe her thoughts were about power over an individual during intercourse, twisting his hair around her hand and controlling him like one controls a horse with reins. She placed the root ball into the hole and covered it, pulling the earth back and patting it down. She turned on the water hose and soaked the ground. When the plant was secure, not wobbling or leaning, she walked to Nannas and positioned the sprinkler so it would cover all of the garden, then turned the water on full blast. Nanna hadnt asked her to water the garden, but Beth Ann knew she would be pleased, pleased not only that she had thought of her, but more so that she had defied the water ordinance. Nannas garden flourished with tomatoes hanging heavy from the vines and rows of corn taller than Beth Ann. At the end of each row, Nanna had hammered into the ground small signs with words burnt into the wood designating what was there. She could not remember a year that Nanna hadnt planted a garden, and although it had gotten smaller through the years, she always planted what she called the essentials. Row after row read: carrots, peppers, beans, squash. When Nanna returned, they would start canning them, storing them for winter when fresh vegetables were nowhere to be found. The sun was low now, midway up the pines and poplars. Shed have to hurry to get to the reservoir before sunset. She ran through the yard and into her

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own, pausing only a second to wipe her feet on the door mat before running into the house. She found her journal and her corn mother first, pulling them from the bottom drawer of the table next to her side of the bed. She took her lucky pen as well, a gift from Nanna upon high school graduation. She padded to the linen closet, grabbing a towel and her robe, yanking off her tennis shoes and sliding into sandals. Koko stood just inside the screen door, pawing at it, somehow sensing where she was going. She grabbed the flashlight from the middle drawer of the hutch, then followed him as he trotted to the woods. He was on the trail of something, perhaps a rabbit or a squirrel hed seen earlier. She figured she would have enough light to get back, since the moon was full and the trail was familiar, but she always felt safer when Koko went with her, scaring off critters before she got there. She walked tentatively through the scorpion-weed and the thistle, the twisted-stalk snagging her ankles. Koko barked once he got to the reservoir, waited for Beth Ann to catch him, then jumped into the water. He drank as he swam; paddling with great strength, leaving ripples behind him. Beth Ann placed her robe and towel on the ground next to the boulder and climbed up, careful not to drop the flashlight and the journal. The cicadas buzzed from the tops of the oak trees while the crickets chirped below, each guarding their territory and each calling to potential mates. Everything was suddenly washed in orange as the sun gave one last valiant effort before sliding beyond sight. Beth Ann opened her journal and began to

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write: May 25, night of the full moon. The Ceremony of the Moon was a time of introspection, distinguishing ones wants from ones needs. She began as she always did by writing in a column on the left side of the page the words: family, father, mother, grandmother, grandfather. On the right side of the page, she wrote husband and stepdaughter. After considering who else she considered connected to her life, she added lover. The second stage was to ask herself then record what it was she needed from each person, followed by what she wanted from them. She began with family. I need a family that will love me as much as I love them. I want a family of which I am a part, not some added-on partever present, but dangling. Mother. Always the hardest category, therefore always the same. I needed a mother who was there. I wanted a mother who was there. Father. I needed a father to teach me how to love a man. I wanted a father to give me away on my wedding day. Grandmother. I needed a grandmother who would love me unconditionally. I wanted a grandmother who let me become whoever and whatever I chose to be. I got both. Grandfather. I needed a grandfather to tell me stories. I wanted a grandfather to take me fishing. She turned on the flashlight and began the right-hand column, knowing it was more difficult, realizing that her wants and needs were greater for those she chose to live with as opposed to those she was born to. Husband. I need a husband who will love me, who will both give me children and help me to provide for them. I need a husband who will be honest with me at all times, even if that means hurting me. He must know that lying to me hurts more than the truth. I

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want a husband who will provide for me my needs. Stepdaughter. I need a stepdaughter who will let me be a friend to her. I want a stepdaughter who gives me the respect I deserve. She had never added anyone else to the list other than Hania, whom she always wrote in at the end. She looked at the word lover. It was not quite true, because she didnt love him, yet he was more than a friend, or at least had to be considered more than that if she happened to sleep with him. She scratched out the word lover and wrote in donor. The word had a chill to it, but she couldnt think of anything else that worked. Donor. I need someone who will give me a child of my very own. I want someone who will plant his seed inside me, then go his own way so that I may keep my family intact. When the moon rose behind the tall pines and began shining its energy around her, Beth Ann breathed in and out four times. After reciting each word of the list, she looked to the moon, asking for visions. Family. She saw a pasture full of sheep, scattered in all directions. Father. She saw an eagle flying just above the tops of the trees, looking down at her but never landing. Mother. A cardinal flew away from a window, scurrying and flapping, flying this way then that until it was out of Beth Anns sight. Grandmother. An owl sat on the limb, looking back at her and winking. Grandfather. A big red deer ran through Nannas garden, trampling down the signs and the vegetable, breaking the stalks of corn. She closed her eyes and held her hand over the left column, praying for their protection, though she held out that part of her heart that would pray for her

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mother, instead asking the Creator to bestow all that He would supply for her mother onto Nanna. Nanna was, after all, her true mother. She focused on the right column, then looked at the moon. Husband. She saw a bear, chasing after his cub through a thick, thick forest. Stepdaughter. A beaver built a dam, holding up the water at the mouth of the river. She stopped before she got to Beau, remembering that she had left out Hania and Hiram. She made a separate column for them at the bottom of the page, labeling it Spiritual Family. Hania. I need from her spiritual guidance to survive as a woman. I want from her answers to get me through my life. She looked to the moon and saw a crow balancing itself on an olive branch that floated in the air, suspended by nothing but sturdy and balanced. Hiram. I need him to teach me the way of the Hopi. I want from him acceptance. A wolf stood in front of the moon, looking back at her and nodding his head as if to say, follow me. She recorded this in her journal, the moon giving her more light by the minute. Beau, she said, looking at the moon. A horse came to the reservoir and drank from it, stretching its long neck down to the water. From the water rose two butterflies that circled his neck then landed on the top of his head. They fluttered their wings but never left, nesting there on his mane. They were kuwanyaumas, butterflies that showed beautiful wings, symbols of faith and transformation. Maybe her dream vision had been correct, but it was Beau and not Will who was the horse. Maybe the spirits were telling her now that it was Beau, with

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his dark mane, who would come to her and heal her hurt, who would bring her a child. She wrote what she saw in her journal, careful to record every detail. She would transcribe them in a letter to Hania, asking for help in interpreting them. Asking for her guidance in what she should do. When she was finished, she took off her clothes and lay flat on the boulder. The full moon meant fertility, so she let the moonlight pour over her like honey from a jar.

Her mother waited in the car while Robin searched the video store for a movie they could agree on. Robin preferred horror, but her mother wouldnt watch it with her if she rented it. She liked the old movies, the ones with Bogart and Cary Grant, the kind where men and women talked a lot, but never really did anything. They both hated action adventures and westerns. They both liked comedy, but had different ideas about what was funny. A serious romance would depress her mother. She found a romantic comedy and took it to the counter. It was rated R, so she knew at least something would happen. They bought a pizza, some sodas, and a box of popcorn on the way home. Robin held her breath as they passed the liquor store. Her mother had gone two full days without getting drunk. Thats why it was so important to choose the right movie; keep her involved the whole time. Robin had to stay active and upbeat, and the movie had to make them laugh. The people in the movie were older, divorced, and with kids. Maybe it would give her hope.

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She watched her mother more than she did the movie, making sure she didnt faze out, checking if she heard the punch lines and responded to them. Every once in a while her mother would stand to go to the restroom or back to the kitchen for more soda. Shed tell Robin to let it run, that shed be right back, but shed pause the VCR and make excuses about how she too needed a refill or had been waiting herself for a restroom break. Shed stay up as late as her mother, entertaining her and talking to her. There was a full moon outside, and she had heard how crazy people could get when the moon was full on a Saturday night.

The woman at the drugstore sent Beau to a specialty store in the mall called Up Close and Personal. The clerk there didnt give him a strange look when he asked for Yucca shampoo, but simply turned around and pulled a plastic bottle from a display behind her. Would you like to add a fragrance to it? she asked. Like what? We can add any one of the fragrances listed on this sign free of charge, or for a nominal fee we can mix several of them together. She pointed to a sign that listed fragrances like Baskin Robbins listed flavors. He scanned the words: gardenia, hyacinth, lavender. Lavender was her maiden name. How could he go wrong with lavender? The lady smiled when he told her, telling him it was a wise choice. And what would you like to name your shampoo? she asked. Name it?

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You get to personalize it, then I make a label for it and put it on there while you wait. Thats where we get our name...Up close and personal. He considered his options, not feeling like he had a creative bone in his body, then said: A Touch of Lavender. It was corny, he knew, but it was the best he could come up with at the time. The lady gave him a polite smile, then typed it into the computer. This will only take a minute, she said. He looked around the store, finding exotic oils and edible massage lotions, aromatherapeutic fragrances and candles, contraptions that were supposed to relax, and tonics that claimed to arouse. Here you go, she said, handing him a small plastic bag. I hope you enjoy it. So do I, he said. He drove to the university and cruised down University Boulevard with his convertible top down, feeling the excitement of the end of the semester. He stopped at the first bar that didnt have a line of people at the door. It was called the Monkey House. There werent any tables available, so he leaned against the bar, thinking hed guzzle a couple beers then head on home. The music they played was unfamiliar, obviously alternative. It sounded angry, though he couldnt make out the words. There were pockets of slamming on the dance floor, but most people danced stiffly, their feet shuffling on the floor. It was Tuscaloosa after all, not Seattle. He downed the rest of his beer, then pointed to the bartender for another. On the other side of the bar, a blonde made

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eye contact with him. She was pretty enough, her skin so dark that her teeth and her hair glowed beneath the black lights. She smiled at him and he smiled back. Soon she was there beside him. Would you like to dance? she asked. His immediate thought was no, but then reconsidered. What would it hurt to dance? He put down his beer and nodded, following her past the tables and onto the crowded square. He had come to grips that he was not a good dancer, but he didnt let it bother him too much, because so few people were. At least he didnt pretend that he was good, overdoing it like some guys who wore gold chains and diamond nugget rings, swinging their arms like monkeys and crouching down to the floor. Beau mostly swayed, feeling the music, but not trying to act out. Youre good, the blonde yelled over the music, lying through those straight white teeth of hers that put her Daddy back a thousand bucks or so. Beau nodded and kept moving; hoping the song was not a dance mix that went on forever. Are you from here? she asked, yelling near his ear. He shook his head. Louisiana, he said. She nodded, though he doubted she heard him. Whats your major? Law. Cool, she said. Im marketing. He nodded and smiled, wondering if she said Im marketing, or Im Marty.

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The song ended and Beau indicated, by putting his hand to his forehead that he was too hot to go on. She nodded and followed him back to the bar. He put up two fingers to the bartender, leaned against the bar. I know a guy in the law school, she said. His name is Parker Timmons. Do you know him? Beau thought about confessing he was not enrolled in the universitys school of law, but in a night school that met in the court house, but that would take too much energy. Im new. Dont know many people yet. He handed her one of the beers and thanked her for the dance. Its so hard hearing in here, she said. He nodded but said nothing. She drank her beer and kept beat with the music, swaying and tapping her feet. I have to go now, he said. But thanks again for the dance. Sure, she said. She frowned, then started looking around the room. His ears rang all the way home. He flipped through the radio stations until he found a station that played the Eagles and Bruce Springsteen. He felt old and out of place, like hed always thought his father was for listening to all those fifties songs with their doo wops and shanna nahs. The blonde was at least fourteen years younger than he, which would have made her four when he graduated from high school. God, that sounded sick. It was after eleven when he drove home. Rachels house was dark, but a few lights shown from Beth Anns house. He cut the lights halfway down the drive, and tried not to make too much noise as he closed the car door. He heard a noise in the direction of the woods, so he stopped to listen for it again. It was

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crackling noise of someone or something stepping on a twig. He pulled his flashlight from the back seat floorboard and shined it toward the sound. Beth Anns dog stood at the edge of the woods, shaking water from its fur. When Beau shined the light on him, the dog turned and went back into the woods. He stood there for a second, then decided to follow him. Hadnt Robin said he was an inside dog? Surely, Beth Ann didnt leave him outside all night. He kept the light on the ground, careful not to step into a hole or fall over a limb. The full moon provided enough light to see at least a few feet ahead of him. At the clearing, he stopped, remembering what he had seen before. He cut off the light and stooped down, but when he did, the dog jumped on him, knocking him flat on his ass. He swore and struggled to get up, but his feet were caught in the weeds. Whos there? Who is it? Its me. Beau. He grabbed a small tree trunk and pulled himself up. I just got clobbered by that mutt of yours. Good boy, Koko, she said. What are you doing out here? Are you talking to me? Of course Im talking to you. He heard water splashing. I saw your dog come in here, so I followed him. He regained his balance and walked toward the voice, then remembered he had a flashlight in his hand. He switched it on and scanned the waters surface. She was near the

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boulder, treading water with only her head sticking above the water. The question is, what are you doing here? Its my private place, she said. I come here to think. Arent you afraid of snakes or coyotes or something? He scanned the woods with his light, fully expecting to see eyes flashing back at him. Thats why I bring Koko. He found you, didnt he? The water splashed again. He shined the light her way. She was reaching onto the bank, holding on to the boulder with one hand while retrieving her flashlight with the other. She turned the beam on him. He waved, then shined his own light on himself. Whats in the bag? He looked down at his hand, having forgotten that he had picked it up from the front seat. Its a surprise, he said, for you. Another one? Why do you keep bringing me surprises? He thought about that for a moment. I guess because I think about you a lot. She turned the beam off him, and then he heard more splashing. His heart pounded. He didnt know what she would do now, whether she would leave in the darkness without his knowing, or if he could expect a lecture. He stood still, fine tuning his ears and keeping the light on himself. I didnt mean to scare you, he said, hoping she would say something so he could get a read on where she was without shining the light on her. Can I open it now? Her voice was so near that it startled him. He shined the light in the direction of the voice. She had a towel tied around her and knotted between her breasts. Her hair was loose and scattered over her shoulders.

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He pulled the bottle from the bag. I kind of have to show it to you, he said. Okay, she said, show me. She placed her flashlight upright between them so that the beam shone like a campfire. He put his light down too, but angled it against a rock so that it shone on her. He opened the bottle with his jittery hands, then poured the shampoo into his palm. Youll need to turn around, he said. At least at first. She gave him a suspicious look and turned around. He moved closer to her, kicking her flashlight over and away from him, then rubbed the shampoo into her hair. Its yucca, he said, but its scented with lavender. He massaged more and more shampoo into her hair until suds covered her shoulders and soaked into her towel. Her shoulders shuddered. Are you cold? No, she said. Im just... He turned her around and saw that she was crying. Did I get soap in your eyes? Its not that kind of tears, she said. She reached out her arms and hugged him, pressing her wet towel to him. She kissed him with great force, pulling his mouth to her open mouth, searching with her tongue. He kissed her back; pulling her as close to him as two people could get without one entering the other. Come here, she said. She took his hand and led him to the edge of the water. Take off your clothes and get in the water, she whispered. He reached out to touch her, but she was gone.

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Only if youre coming back, he said. Im coming back. Standing in the beam of the light, she took off her towel. She looked like a sea goddess with her sudsy hair piled on top of her head, her body glistening in the moonlight. Now its your turn. He obeyed quickly, yanking off his boots and pulling off his jeans, underwear, and socks with one quick swoop. By the time he ripped off his shirt, she was behind him, removing the band from his hair. She rubbed her fingers through his hair, massaging his head and pressing her naked body against his. He was afraid, for the first time in his life that he might not make it that he might just erupt like a volcano before she allowed him to turn around. Go ahead and get in, she said. He didnt want to, knowing what cold water would do to him, not wanting to miss a perfect opportunity to throw down right there and have the most incredible sex hed ever had, but she was calling the shots. He eased off the bank and into the water, surprised not to hear a sizzle. He dunked under, then surfaced, looking for her. She stood between him and the light, and then she stooped down and spread out her towel on the side of the bank. She sat on it, dangling her feet in the water. Come here, she said. He swam to her, stopping just inches from her knees. Turn around. He turned around, still treading water. She grabbed him by his shoulders and pulled him back to her, gripping his torso between her knees. He rested his arms on her legs while she washed his hair, massaging his head until he thought he might fall asleep. She slid into the water next to him. They kissed

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as they went under, each stroking the others hair. Each taking turns pulling the other to the surface. There were seconds when his brain kicked in, causing him to wonder why she was allowing this to happen, flashes of memory like blades sliced through his gut reminding him that she was married. But he ignored them all, instead focusing on her, feeling every inch of her under the water, praying to God that she would lead them out of the water and into her bed, where he would make love to her until the sun came up. I want you, she told him, pulling herself to the bank and grabbing the boulder. But I dont think I can wait until we get to the house. He swam to the bank and lifted her out of the water. He climbed up to the top of the boulder where he had seen her stand before, turning circles and holding out her arms. He reached down to her, pulling her up to him. He sat on the flat boulder with his knees bent and apart. Come here, he said leaning back. She straddled him then, guiding him into her like he was meant to be there, arching her back and moving with him until they were moving as one great wave pounding the shore. When he felt her tightening around him, he pulled her to him, sucking her breasts like a baby. If it was a baby she wanted, it was a baby he'd her. Hed give her anything she wanted, everything she wanted, if shed just let him ininto her body and into her life. He rolled her over and lay her on her back, careful not to hurt her, placing his hands under her hips. If he was going to fill her with sperm, she needed to be on bottom to keep it all from seeping out. She wrapped his hair around her hand

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and pulled, something no one had ever done to him. It hurt, but it excited him too, making him feel primitive and wild, forcing one last thrust that plunged him into her world. There was no rewind button, no contraptions to reverse the time. A part of himself was in her now, and nothing could change that. She pulled herself up using his shoulders and curled her legs around him, crossing her ankles behind his back. Her lips were at his ear, whispering his name over and over, as if to assure him that she knew it was he and not her husband who had brought her to this point. He wanted to tell her he loved her, but he restrained himself. He had only admitted that to one woman in his life, and she left him. Lets go back to the house and start all over again, she whispered. He kissed her, then jumped down from the boulder. He followed the weak beam of the flashlight to where he had left his clothes, then slipped on his jeans and pulled on his boots. He didnt see her clothes, so he didnt bother, walking back to the boulder and holding out his arms for her. He handed her the flashlight and told her to light the way while he carried her through the woods and over the threshold, and finally to her big, sturdy bed.

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN A Call for Balance My cousin Bertha believes in a ceremony she learned from a Cherokee woman who lives in Taos, New Mexico. She says it is for those times when her insides feel uneven and she just wants to level them out. I told her I know of no times like that, and she said Phooey. Bertha is always on a journey to get her insides adjusted, rubbing crystals, paying ten dollars to lie on the ground where white people say there are spiritual vortexes. Hiram calls her a spiritual drunk, saying she is as addicted to emotion as some people are addicted to liquor. Bertha told me that she had performed the Wholeness Ceremony the night before Beth Ann came to her asking for a job. The ceremony consists of lighting seven candles on the night of a full moon, and asking the spirits to send you all you need in order to make you whole. You list them either in your head or on paper, careful to think of all the things you need and want. Then you decide what are those things that you are lying to yourself about. What do you need to change that you tell yourself you dont. Then you ask the spirits for a teacher who will show you balance. The spirits, according to Bertha, will give you a name or a sign that will lead you to the one who will teach you. Bertha said the spirits told her that night that a white deer would come to our village needing to be taught. It said that whatever the people gave to her in wisdom, she would give back to them in balance. Bertha said she didnt think much about it after that, until that night of Wuwuchim when the Deer Kachina

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danced around Beth Ann. Even then, she thought she was being silly, because Beth Ann was a woman, not a deer. It was not until I told Bertha what Beth Anns spiritual name was that Bertha opened her mouth and grabbed my arm. It was her, she said. She was the one.

It was still dark when Beth Ann awoke to find Beau missing from the bed. Neither of them had slept longer than a few minutes at a time, one pulling the other back when too much space got between them. Now that she felt she could sleep forever, the clock flashed 4:30. When she listened closely, she heard the floor squeak in the living room. She pulled the sheet from the bed, wrapped herself in it, and went to find him. He wore only his jeans and stood in front of her bookcase touching the spines of her books. Hey, you, she said, why dont you come back to bed? I cant sleep. He held out his left arm for her and she went to him, letting him hug her. She kissed him on his mouth then his neck. He smelled of lavender and sweat, a strange mixture of sweet saltiness. Thinking about reading? Ive been walking around looking at each room, snooping. Find anything interesting? Its like I thought it would be, your house, full of Southwestern art and books. Youve thought a lot about my house, have you? She smiled at him and brushed back his hair.

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Ive just...I think you can learn a lot about people from their houses. He walked to the window and looked out toward Rachels house. Beth Ann sat near him on the sofa. So what have you learned about me? He turned around and walked back to the bookshelves. I know youre obsessed with the Kennedys. He pulled a book from the case. She pulled her knees up to her chest. Im not obsessed. I just find them fascinating. The Day Kennedy Was Shot, he said, repeating the title of the book in his hand. A blow by blow account. Sounds pretty obsessive to me. He thumbed through the pages. It was the same day my father died. He fell off the roof when I told him the news about the assassination. Im sorry. He made an apologetic face, then sat down beside her, putting his arm around her and rubbing her arms. No wonder you... What? I was just thinking that you must be interested in all that hoopla over Jackie Kennedys auction. She leaned back and looked at him. There was no way he could know, and she wasnt sure she wanted to tell him. Hed probably think she was an extravagant gold-digger or the worst kind of lunatic, spending thousands of dollars on memorabilia. Ive kept up with it on the news, but thats about it.

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So what would you buy if you had unlimited resources and could fly to New York? She paused for what she thought was enough time for one to consider a hypothetical question, then told him: The rocking horse or the foot stool. He nodded and looked back at the bookcase. What else did you learn about me by analyzing my house? Id rather not give out that information at this time. Ive got it stored away for processing purposes. Ill submit a report to you once the final analysis is complete. He looked at his watch, then reached over, pulling at her sheet. You seem to have lost some of your clothes, she said, looking at his chest. And you seem to have lost all of yours. Id better go to the reservoir and get them before... Nobody ever goes down there but me, she said. He was already worried, already thinking about cover-up and consequences. The whole evening had been like one long dance, one that they had been practicing for yearsanticipating each others moves, arching and giving in to arches keeping perfect time with the drumming of their hearts. Had every time in her life been a prelude to this, or just a bumbling attempt to dance this dance? If he left now, she knew what would happen. The dance would end and the stumbling would begin. Right or wrong would face her the second she looked into the mirror. There had been no right or wrong last night. Only passion. The moments rose like mist, forming a ring around them in the light of the moona

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ring that shielded them from shoulds and shouldnts, creating for them a new space, a new universe, and a new purpose to live. Tell me about you, she said. What do you want to know? Tell me about your first marriage. She realized this line of questioning might dampen the mood, but there were things she needed to know. Most people asked these questions before they had sex, but she was playing catch up. She moved to Vacherie when her family bought an old plantation home there. Its a famous one, used in lots of movies. Anyway, she used to come by the gas station and wed talk. Just talk? She tucked his hair behind his ear and kissed him on his forehead. Yeah, well my dad was always there. Then one thing led to another. It was a first love deal for both of us, so we were pitiful, not eating, not sleeping, you know the drill. Yes, I do, she said, thinking of Allen Terrell. Next thing I know, shes pregnant. She looked at him for an expression of recognition, but he was looking at the ceiling. Well, my dad went ballistic, telling me from the get go that if I was going to go around fucking like a man, Id have to take the responsibility like a man and marry her. So you married her. Kind of. Her parents, real blue-blood-Southern-old-money types, requested a meeting with my father, a grease-under-the-nails-redneck type, and all

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hell broke loose. It was obvious from the time we walked into her parents fancy home, that they thought Caroline was too good for the likes of me. How old was...Caroline? She was sixteen and I was nineteen. Too young to make her own decisions for sure. And way too young to be pregnant when they were busy trying to make a society darling out of her. But she loved you, Beth Ann said. As much as a sixteen year-old can love someone, I guess. So what happened during this meeting? My dad went on a rant about the sanctity of marriage and the importance of being responsible for ones actions, and then refused to listen to her parents reasoning on abortion. The negotiation deteriorated after that, and there was a lot of yelling on both sides. Something weird happened. Her parents turned quiet and agreeable, even volunteered to arrange a small ceremony in the parlor of the house. Dad thought hed worn them down, but I wasnt so convinced. The next day we show up for the ceremony and go through the motions, promising to love each other no matter what. That night we slept together in her bedroom, making love and thinking up names for the baby. Beau unraveled himself from the sheet and walked to the fireplace. But we were never married. It was a hoax to satisfy my father long enough for them to send her away to a boarding school.

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You mean it was staged? The minister was a two-bit actor theyd met during the filming of some Tennessee Williams movie at the mansion. She was supposed to meet me after work that Friday so we could go look for a house to rent, but she never showed. What about the baby? When I went to the house to see about her, they told me the baby had been aborted and Caroline was now living in Europe. They said if I tried to find her theyd file statutory rape charges. Did Caroline ever try to contact you? Not that I know of, but if she did my dad never told me. Why? I thought he was all for the marriage. He saw it as me just dodging the bullet, and told me to keep my pecker in my pants from now on. Beth Ann got a sick feeling in her stomach, knowing that Beau, having already lost the opportunity to raise one child might not be so willing to let the second one slip away. And you never saw her again? No. Do you have any idea where she is or what shes doing? Beau looked at his watch, then looked out the window. God, he said, Ive got to go. Rachel will be waking up any time now, and if she finds my room empty, Ill have some explaining to do.

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I wish you could stay, she said. We could go back to bed and sleep for a while then get up and go for a picnic. Can I meet you somewhere during your run? Beau asked. He reached by the sofa and grabbed his boots. I dont run on Sundays, but I could meet you at the mounds anyway. Ill bring lunch. She halfway expected him to say no, saying he didnt have the time or that he didnt think it was a good idea. Okay, he said. I need to go out your front door. Ill go get our clothes later, after Rachel has seen me inside the house. He was still thinking of right and wrong, already anticipating Rachels questions and Wills return. Ill see you at noon, she said. He nodded and crept across the porch and down the steps like he was inside a church. The sun was ground level, shining through the trees like a fire through a grate.

His bedroom door was open when he knew he had closed it. Hed have to think fast to come up with a reason why his car was there, but he was nowhere to be found. She might have worried, he thought, could have called the police if shed had a mind to. He ran into the room and closed the door behind him. He had no sooner slid into the bed until Rachel knocked on the door. Can I come in? She didnt wait for a response, opening the door and stepping inside. Beau pulled the covers over his chest. She wore her robe and slippers, and her hair was twisted up in curlers. Ive been worried about you, she said. I

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came to your room around ten thirty and realized you werent back yet from Tuscaloosa. When I saw your car outside and I didnt know what to think. Rachel... The only story he could think to tell her was that he had met a girl in a bar and shed followed him back to his house and hed ridden in her car to her house. Any way he told it shed think he was some kind of cat out on the prowl. I met a girl... Dont waste your breath telling me a lie. What I have to say, Ill say once, then Ill shut up. Beau felt like he should dress first, then meet her in the kitchen. Her standing at the door talking to him while he was naked in the bed made him uncomfortable and edgy, prone to making a mistake. Maybe thats why she was doing it. I dont enjoy meddling into other peoples affairs, because I dont like it being done to me. I follow the golden rule as much as possible, but I do want to tell you that you need to be very careful. There are things you dont know about, more people to hurt than youd ever imagine. What are you talking about? You know what Im talking about, she said. Shes married, Beau. They might not be the happiest couple in the world, but shes married. But, Rachel, he said. He sat up in the bed with his back against the headboard. Listen to me, Beau. You get involved with a married woman and youre the one wholl get hurt the most. Youre the one wholl be left out in the cold. Rachel, please. It was all he could say. He couldnt lie to her because she knew better.

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I dont intend to tell Nanna, but youve got to do the right thing here, and end it before it goes any further. She clasped her hands in front of her as if begging him. So many people can get hurt so bad, she said. If only you knew. Then maybe you should tell me, he said. She looked at him, then looked to the ceiling. Does it have something to do with those checks Nannas been sending you? Get dressed. Ill be in the kitchen, she said, closing the door behind her. Beau jumped up immediately and got dressed. His hands trembled. He was stupid to think she wouldnt know. He should have gone back into the house first, then pretended to go to bed, but he hadnt planned on Beth Ann being there in the woods, and even if he had, he never wouldve imagined that hed end up spending the night with her. It was kind of a relief, though, knowing that he could see her today without having to make up stories for sneaking out. Will would be back tomorrow, changing everything. He had to be with her every moment he could before then. He looked in on Tommy before going to the kitchen. He was asleep, snoring loudly and mumbling. He was lucky in a way, not having to worry about real life since eating, sleeping, and watching television was all he did. He wasnt accountable; what he did had no real consequences since it was all done in ignorance. Rachel had changed into her housedress, and pulled out her curlers. She sat at the table with two cups of coffee and a framed photograph. Whats the

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picture of? He sat down and held out his hand for it, but she did not hand it to him. Its a picture of Tommys father. She ran her finger around the edge of the frame, then handed it to Beau. Rachel was much younger and thinner, wearing pants and a floral blouse, and holding a fish up for the camera. The man next to her looked familiar, but he couldnt place him. He was tall and thin, with dark hair. He had a cigar in his mouth, and one arm draped around Rachels shoulders. In his other hand, he held a silver tackle box, very much like the one Beau had found in the shed. Then it hit him. The man standing next to Rachel, the man she admitted was Tommys father, was the same man hed stuck into a frame and given to Beth Ann. Tommys father is... he couldnt say it. Thomas Lavender. Who all knows about this? Nanna, and Claire, Beth Anns mother. How do they know? They found out. A few weeks before he fell, Claire saw us together. She and Tom got into a terrible fight, and to make things worse, she ran next door and spilled it all to Nanna. But he died in 1963. Tommy would have had to be born... In 1964. Tom never knew. Beth Ann?

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She knows nothing. I really thought Claire would have told her by now, but I guess Nanna has quieted her somehow. I know Claire would like nothing better than to tarnish that perfect image Beth Ann has of Tom. Does Nanna never want her to know? Shes down in Mobile talking to Claire as we speak. She wants Claire to come up so they can try to patch things up after she tells her. Patch things up? Nannas going to tell her that her father had an affair and Tommy is her brother. Then shes going to bring back the mother that abandoned her thirty-three years ago and expect to patch things up. It better damn well be a patch the size of Texas. Its got to be done some time, she said, and Nannas sick. Shes got blockage in the arteries here. Rachel rubbed the sides of her neck. She could have surgery, but she wont since shes known people who died from the operation. But she wants to die with a clean conscience. And she wants to make sure that Tommy and I are provided for after shes gone. Rachel stood and walked back to the counter. So you see, if you mess things up with Nanna or Beth Ann well be out in the dark, Tommy and me. Beau stood and walked toward the door, doubled back. Youre all going to hurt her, you know. Shed be better off never knowing. She has to know.

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I know, so you can get your four hundred dollars a month. He paced in front of the counter. Ill pay you that if you just wont tell her. Why would you do that? Because she should be able to go on believing her father was the man she thought he was. But Nanna insists. If she cared about Beth Ann, shed take it to her grave with her. If someone came to me and told me my mother was...a prostitute or something Id probably shoot the bastard that told me. Beau stormed out of the kitchen and down the hall. He grabbed his keys from the nightstand and stomped onto the porch, pulling a six pack from the refrigerator as he went. When he jumped in his car he didnt know where he was going, but he knew he had to get away, clear his head before he met Beth Ann at noon. And meet her he would. If hed learned anything from Rachels confession, it was that Beth Ann would need him once the shit hit the fan. She sure as hell couldnt depend on Will, and everyone else seemed concerned more with clearing their own conscience than protecting her.

Her mother had cooked a fancy brunch complete with eggs Benedict and fresh fruit. A pot of chicory coffee gurgled from the Mr. Coffee, and the kitchen was spotless. Robin pretended to open the wrong cabinet so she could grab a quick peek at the bottle levels. The gin bottle with the unbroken seal was still in tact, and the half-empty bottle of vodka was still half empty. Three full days and she hadnt taken a drink.

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Want some coffee? Robin nodded, surprised that her mother offered. Usually she told her she was too young, or that she knew she wouldnt like it. Youll probably want some sugar. She pushed the sugar toward Robin and smiled, then took a cigarette from the package on the table. I thought youd stopped smoking. Robin fanned the air in front of her. Her mother took a drag and blew her smoke in the other direction. I did. Robin took a bite of her eggs Benedict. It was good, very good. She wished Beth Ann could cook like her mother--that was whenever her mother cooked. Arent you going to eat? Once I fix it, Im not hungry. Theres something about cooking that makes me queasy. Im weird that way. Is that why you never cook? Robin smiled, hoping her mother would know she was making a joke. La tee da, she said, sticking out her tongue and crossing her eyes. She blew smoke out of her nose and lightly punched Robin on the arm. Its time you learned how to cook, Miss Priss. Show me and I will, sometime. Sometime, Lana mocked. Sometime after never? Robin smiled and scooped several tablespoons of sugar into the coffee. When I was moving your books off the table, I noticed a drivers manual. Are you taking drivers ed? Next year, but Coach Canant gave us the books to study over summer.

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Has your dad taken you driving yet? No, Robin said. He actually had, though, once. He took her to a graveyard and let her drive there, saying that at least if she killed them, they could just throw some dirt over them and be done with it. She didnt want to tell her mother about it though, knowing that shed be more likely to take her if it were an activity her father had not already treated her to. Do you know anything about driving? I know enough. Well see, she said. She took her coffee cup to the sink and rinsed it. Finish up your breakfast and Ill take you out driving. All right! Robin said. She took big bites, barely chewing before swallowing. Her mother opened the cabinet and pulled out the vodka. She poured some into her cup and put the bottle back into the cabinet. When she turned around, Robin was looking at her. What? She took a swig from the cup. Dont look at me like that. Its one drink. Nobody ever died from one lousy drink. Actually they have, Robin mumbled. Her appetite was gone. She took her plate to the sink and rinsed it out, then put it in the dishwasher. Listen, Kiddo, if Im gonna risk life and limb by putting you behind the wheel, Im going to need a little something to take the edge off. She tucked Robins hair behind her ear, then downed the last of it. Now you review that manual while I go change into my crash dummy suit.

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When she was sure she was gone, Robin took the vodka from the cabinet and opened it. Placing her thumb level with the liquid, she poured half of it out, then filled the bottle with water until it reached her thumb. It was a trick she had been doing for the past week, weaning her mother off the stuff without her knowing it. If she was going to drink, at least it would take her twice as long to get soused. Her mother walked through the living room, so she put everything back in a flash. Lets go, Lana said. She picked up her keys and opened the door for Robin. Robin held out her hand for them, but Lana held them to her chest. Oh, no. Not until were in a parking lot without any other cars. Do you think Im crazy? You dont want to know the answer to that one, Robin said. Her mother smacked her on the behind. Ha, Ha, real funny. Keep it up and youll be riding the bus through your senior year, Kiddo.

The parking lot behind the stadium was empty, so Lana pulled in and parked the car. Here? Robin said. What if someone I know drives up and sees me here doing donuts? Theyll be envious that youre learning how to drive while theyre on their way to church. She pinched Robins cheek, then jumped out of the car. Robin got out, but kept looking around for people who might see her and make fun of her. Dont worry, her mother said. Once Im sure you know what youre doing, Ill let you drive on the street.

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Robin slid behind the wheel and fastened her seat belt. Her mother fastened hers too, but only after making the sign of the cross over her chest. Ha, Ha, Robin said, mocking her mothers sarcasm. She put her foot on the brake, then put the car into drive. Things went smoother than she expected. Shed drive a little, then her mother would tell her to stop. She was severe with the stops at first, but then got the hang of how far she had to push the peddle. Soon she was driving as smoothly as her mother, which wasnt saying much, but it was a beginning. Robin drove around town, not worrying about traffic since most people were parked at the churches. She stopped at the stop signs behind the white line, gave signals when she turned, and practiced pulling into and out of parking spacesit didnt matter that there were no cars on each side. Her mother got out of the car each time and told her whether she was between the lines. When she had parked between the lines five times, she moved on, insisting that they drive down Highway 69 by Beaus house. You like him, dont you? her mother asked. Hes okay, she said. She looked in the rear view mirror because she thought it made her look cool. A little old for you dont you think? I dont like him that way, she lied. Were just friends. Tell me about him. Robin didnt want to, afraid that her mother would try to stop her from seeing him, or worse try to flirt with him herself. Theres nothing to tell. He

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used to be a cop and now hes going to law school. Robin slowed the car and took the side road, nervous that the gravel was tearing up the car. Thats really all I know. He seems to have helped you with your batting. You were tearing them up yesterday. I just hope I can do that tomorrow at tryouts. She slowed even more as they drove in front of Rachels house. His car wasnt there. Oh, brother, her mother said. Speed it up, will you? Princess Annie is getting in her car. It was her mothers sarcastic name for Beth Ann, the one she used whenever she was not calling her bitch. She had on a sundress and was carrying a picnic basket. Wonder where shes going all spruced up like that? And with your father out of town, no less. Beth Ann struggled to put the basket in the Jeep, not noticing them as they drove past. Maybe shes got a hot date, her mother said. Robin thought about how ridiculous that would be and dismissed it as her mothers jealousy of Beth Ann. She was probably going on one of her tree-hugging missions, sitting out in the middle of nowhere chanting and picking berries. Where to now? Robin asked. They were back on the main highway and Robin was nervous. Her driving wasnt horrible, but it was far from perfected. People whizzed by her like she was road kill, and she still didnt have a feel for where everything was, nearly coming to complete stops when her mother told her to flip on her blinker or roll down the window.

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Lets get a movie and go home, she said. I liked the one you got last night. Think you could pick out another? Sure. She looked forward to driving to the video store and getting out of the drivers side, jingling the keys as she looked for a movie. An older girl who was on the cheerleading squad with Brandi ran the place most of the time. Shed probably be impressed and tell Brandi all about it.

When they got to the house, Tony Muldrows truck was parked in the drive. Shit, Robin said. She didnt care what her mother thought about her saying it. She hated him. He was a disgusting creep that only showed up when he was drunk. Her mother had told him to go away and leave her alone, but every time he got a few beers in him, he came back, telling her that he just wanted to talk. Dont worry her mother said. Ill get rid of him. Right. Like you always do. Robin slammed on the breaks and jammed the engine into park. Damn it, Robin! Her mother grabbed the keys out of the ignition and threw them in her purse. Look at him. Hes inside the house already, like he owns it or something. Weve got to start locking our doors.

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Her mother unfastened her seat belt and turned the rearview mirror around to check her lipstick. You just let me handle this. Dont agitate him with that mouth of yours. My mouth! Hes the one that talks to me like Im a dog, saying Hey, Red.'" Come here, Red. Get me a beer, Red. I hate him, Mother, and so do you. Just please be quiet and let me handle this. The door to the carport opened and Tony walked out. He had on cut-off shorts and a T-shirt two sizes too small for him, carrying a beer in one hand and the newspaper in the other. He walked to the car and put his hand on the hood. Now I know youve done lost your mind, woman, letting Red drive your car. Robin got out of the car and slammed the door behind her, walking past him and snarling. You must have something going on with the insurance man, the way youre looking for wrecks lately. What are you doing here? Robin heard her mother ask him as she went inside and slammed the door. She thought about locking it, but didnt want to lock her mother out there with the ass wipe even though she kept letting him come over, kept letting him call her Red, kept letting him get her drunk, kept letting him borrow money, kept letting him spend the night. She watched them through the backdoor window as he made his moves, leaning against her mother and playing with her hair, then he grabbed her around her waist and kissed her, dripping his beer spit into her mouth. Soon shed be inside, drinking vodka from the bottle and sitting in his lap while he ordered her around. Then they would send her to bed so they could go into her mothers room

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and have sex. Shed hear it all through the vent in her room: the squeaking of the bed, the headboard slamming against the wall, Tony saying words that disgusted her, her mother begging him for more. She wished she had a gun, wished she could shoot him and bury him in the yard. No one would miss him, because no one cared about him. No one, that was, but her mother. She wondered if Tommy was right and Beau really did have a gun. Maybe Beau could shoot him. Tony and her mother headed toward the house, so she headed for her room. Shed lock herself in there all night if she had to, but she wasnt going to sit around and watch her mother drink, and listen to him bark orders at her, calling her Red. She locked her bedroom door and pulled her journal from the closet. She started thinking of ways to kill herself, then decided to start another section titled, Ways to Kill Tony Muldrow. Way #1 Fill a bourbon bottle with drain cleaner. Way #2 Steal Beaus gun and shoot him where it hurts. Way #3 Call Henderson and tell him someones raping my mother in the other room. Way #4 Catch a rattlesnake and put it in the cab of his truck. Her hand couldnt keep up with her mind. She was actually having fun.

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN Sacred Spruce The Badger Clan is guardian of the sacred spruce, the most powerfully magnetic of all trees. The story of the sacred spruce begins with a little girl of the Bear Clan who was sick, and no one could find a cure. Therefore, the oldest and most sacred member of the clan went into the forest to pray for wisdom and power. That was when he saw the strange tracks of Honani, the badger. The badger asked what he could do for the old man, and he told him the story about the girl. The badger dug up an herb he called spruce, and told him to boil it, careful to pray over the girl and think good thoughts. The man returned to his village and did what he was told. The minute the little girl drank the herb water, she was cured. In honor of the badger who saved the little girls life, the clan named themselves the Badger Clan. Years later, the tribe grew and the people began to quarrel. The old man did all he could to calm the tempers, but it was no good. The rains and the snow stopped falling, and the spring dried up. The corn and animals died. The people grew hungry. The old man was too feeble to make them stop their bickering and see the way through it, so he called a meeting.

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He told the clan that he was sorry for all their anger, but he did not know how to stop it. He felt like a failure as their leader. The division was too great and he was too old. He told them they must go their separate ways, but for them to come back in four years and look for him at all the important placesthe kivas, the shrines, the spring. If he were to be blamed for any of their disputes, they would find no trace of him. But if my heart has been true, you will find a sign and know what to do. Four years later they returned. They looked in the kivas but saw nothing. They looked in the shrines, but there was no sign of him. Then, when they reached the place of the dried up spring, they saw water gushing out. There at the edge of the spring, was a four-year old spruce tree. It was a sign that no one could deny. The old leader had been pure, and his leadership had been sound. Even today the people honor the old mans memory by journeying to the Kaibab Forest near Grand Canyon, planting prayer feathers at the roots of spruce trees, then taking sprigs of it back with them, tying it to their costumes and giving it to the sick so they may become well.

Dear Beth Ann, I received your letter today. I am troubled to hear of your sadness over not being able to have a child. I know you knew of Wills problem when you married him, but I also know how strong the feeling is for a woman to want a child. I will pray to the Creator that he will create in you a baby or

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destroy in you the urge to have one. It is the absence of one and the presence of the other that makes you sad. I know you think your Nanna is wrong in saying it is her time to go, but maybe she has seen a vision. Many times the spirits call for us either to point the way to our next journey or to greet us at the end of that great journey we call life. I am sending in this letter a sprig of spruce. Boil it for her and make her drink it. If it is her time, the spruce will make her visions clear. If she is sick, it will make her better. Be sure to pray for her and think good thoughts, since it is all three that make the spirits come. I do hope that you can come to see me soon. I would like very much to meet your Will and your Nanna too, if she is well. Hiram says hello. He took out your book the other day and was reading it while I was away. He put it away when I came in. He said he found it and was looking for a place to keep it. He is a very stubborn man. Take care of you. Lolamai Aho, Hania

Beau was already there, sitting on the picnic table when she drove up. She tried all morning to talk herself out of coming, reasoning that a one nightstand is more easily forgiven than a full-blown affair. To make matters worse, Will called around noon to say that he missed her so much he was coming home early,

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skipping the sunrise fishing trip to get a head start on the traffic. He figured hed be home around one the next day. Havent you had any fun? she asked him. You were right. These people are boring. I guess I just forget sometimes how entertaining you are. Entertaining was right, only the man shed been entertaining was waiting for her in a deserted area of a park, so no one would see them together. Beau met her at the Jeep and took the basket for her. She wanted to greet him the way lovers do, but he seemed distant, not making eye contact with her. I was beginning to think you stood me up, he said. He turned and walked ahead of her until they reached the table. I found another table down a trail. Its more private and has a good view of the river. Okay. She followed him down the trail to a clearing large enough only for a table. How long have you been waiting? I came early. Felt like getting out of the house. I lost track of time, she said. And I had a lunch to pack. He called, didnt he? He turned around and sat on the table, looking at her for the first time. Yeah, she said. So? And youre having regrets. He pulled a cigarette from his shirt pocket and lit it. Its okay. You can tell me the truth. Can we just start all over? She turned around, walked back down the trail a few feet, and acted surprised to see him. She walked up to him, put her

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hand on his cheek and kissed him. Ive missed you, she said, meaning it. Ive looked out every window of my house nearly every hour today just hoping to catch a glimpse of you. He put his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. Im sorry, he said. Im not, she said. Not about anything. She meant it. Shed thought about it repeatedly, replaying every moment from the night before, convinced that given the chance to roll back time, she wouldnt change a thing. She rubbed his arm, pausing to touch his scar with her fingers. I missed you too, he said. He sat on the concrete table, turned her around, facing the river, and wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzling his face in her hair. And dont worry. I wont cause you any trouble with Will. She had been right about him. He could be discreet. Everything was going to be fine. Whenever she started to feel guilty, all she had to do was consider the big picture; remember why she had done it. Its for the baby, she told herself. Forget everything else. She turned around and straddled him, hiking her dress over her hips. Have you ever made love on a picnic table? His arms stiffened, and then he removed his hands from her waist and looked away. What? He broke himself from her and stepped down from the table. Lets go to your house, he said. He grabbed the picnic basket and took her hand. What did I do? She reluctantly followed him, wondering what happened to the Beau that she had come to know. Was it something I said? My breath? She stopped and pulled her hand free from him, but he kept walking.

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Ill leave my car here and ride with you so Rachel wont ask questions. Im not going anywhere until you tell me what I did. She stopped near the clearing and sat on the table closest to the car. She didnt care who drove by and saw them talking, especially since it looked like they werent going to stay. He whipped around and dropped the basket. I just dont want to have sex on a picnic table. Okay, she said. No big deal. It is a big deal, okay? She looked at him then at the basket. He held up his arms and looked at the sky. Dont say youre sorry. Just tell me the problem. He waited there with his hands on his hips, then walked to the table, finally sitting on the bench looking toward the river. He told her everything. How hed thought his child was aborted until they found her raped and murdered on a picnic table that overlooked a river. He told her about calling Caroline and telling her he had been the one to find their daughter. He told her how Caroline blamed him for the whole thing because he never tried to find her. He told her how he had become so obsessed with the case that he had been fired, and how he still had the file, though he planned to return it when he got the strength to do so. When he was finished, she took him in her arms, not caring what anyone saw, admitting to herself that the moment he washed her hair at Indian Springs, his sadness became her own. Their lives were entangled as tightly as the hair of

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two virgin youths preparing for marriage and symbolizing the unity to two separate tribes become one.

Robin awoke to smoke and the smell of burning plastic. Ashes floated in the air like dry snow, and for a moment, she marveled at how beautiful it was. She regained her senses and realized her room was on fire. It was to the right of her, the fire, exactly where she had lit the candle a few hours earlier. She screamed and jumped out of the bed, running to the opposite corner of the room, but not crossing to the door. Tony burst into the room wearing only his underwear. Her mother was behind him in her gown, yelling Robins name over and over again. Tony yanked a pillow from Robins bed and beat the fire, scattering more ashes into the air. Her lamp was on fire, the shade melting like cellophane in a campfire. Her mother was crazy, yelling and screaming for Robin to come out, but she was frozen. When the flames were gone, sparks shot out from the electrical cord of the lamp. Tony wrapped Robins sheet around his hand and gave the cord a tug, crashing what was left of the lamp to the floor. You dont have a goddamn fire extinguisher in this dump? he yelled. Theres one in the kitchen, her mother said.

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Then why the fuck are you standing here? He stomped the ashes with his bare feet, looking back at Robin and her mother like they were ashes too, and he would stomp them the second he got around to it. Are you okay? Her mother waited for a response before retrieving the extinguisher. Robin nodded. Her mother ran through the house, her feet slapping the linoleum. What started this? Tony asked her. She didnt look at him, wouldnt answer him. She owed him no explanation. He was nothing to her. Did you hear me? I asked you a question, you little twit! Dont you call her that, her mother said. She handed him the fire extinguisher and stepped back. He shot the ashes and the lamp with the foam, then dropped it on the floor. He walked to the chest of drawers and picked up a wad of wax. A candle? You were burning a fucking candle without a holder, a saucer or anything? Burning a candle on a piece of furniture? What are you some kind of retard? Thats enough, her mother said. Get out of here. Get out of my house. This is the fucking gratitude I get for saving your rug rats life? Dont ever come back here! Her mother ran to her and hugged her. Its all right, Robin. Everythings all right.

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Robin shook all over, as if she was having a convulsion. She started crying. Tony stormed out of the room, swearing and calling them names, but her mother never flinched, never tried to smooth it over. Youre in shock, her mother told her, snatching the bedspread off the bed and wrapping it around her. Robins secret box fell to the floor, the items scattering everywhere at their feet. Whats all of this? She wanted to reach out and stop her mother from seeing it, but she still couldnt move, trapped in an Arctic freeze, watching everything happen in slow motion. She identified the bracelet first, twisting it around her fingers, then pressing it to her cheek. She picked up the article, handling it as delicately as if it was an old lace handkerchief, and she was reading its monogram. She started crying when she saw the picture of the three of thema family in happier days. How did it get so screwed up? she asked Robin. But Robin couldnt answer.

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN Niman Kachina The Niman Kachina ceremony, the Going Home ceremony, begins on Summer Solstice. Since Winter Solstice, the kachinas have been here, helping us to prepare spiritually for the planting of our crops. When the corn is finally growing, their jobs are done. Prayer feathers are planted near a shrine so the kachinas will be sure to hear them, and a spruce is planted to the right of it. Cornmeal trails welcome Father Sun when he rises the next morning to light the way for the kachinas to travel home. When the dancing is over, the kachinas tell the village chief that they are returning the children to his care. Then the chief thanks them for the happiness they have brought to the village. He tells them it is time for them to go and take

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the prayers of the people with them. Everyone then takes a twig of spruce from the kachinas to carry home and plant in their own fields. When the sun sets, you can see the kachinas rising over the cliffs before vanishing.

By the time Will walked in the back door, Beth Ann had erased all signs of Beau from the house. The sheets were laundered, the dishes cleaned, and all the trash taken out. The only reminders she had of him was the framed photograph and the bottle of lavender scented yucca shampoo he gave her and asked her not to use until they were together again. But there would be no reason for them to be together again. Will was glad to see her, hurrying through the house, looking for her. When he found her, he picked her up, swung her around, and then dropped her on the bed. Talk to me, he told her. Say things that are real, things that are important. Like what? Say anything not having to do with legal cases, expense accounts, or golf. Tell me what youve done, what you like, tell me about a movie youve seen or a book youve read... I bought a plant, she said. Great! Where did you plant it? In the back, by the door. Super. He smiled at her and shook his head. Keep going. Youre in a strange mood, she said.

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Im just desperate to talk with somebody who doesnt care about designer clothes and luxury vacations. She punched him on the arm. You make me sound like a square. She raised herself onto her elbows and looked at him. His skin was tanned, and his blonde hair had turned so light with the suns exposure, that it blended perfectly with his gray. He looked ten years younger. You dont look like youve been tortured. You look...great. He sat down on the bed beside her and placed his arm on the other side of her. I feel great, now that Im home with you. He kissed her then unbuttoned her blouse. You smell good. Oh, and I took a bath while you were gone too. She faked excitement, raising her eyebrows and nodding her head. He kissed her on her neck then unhooked her bra. And I cooked shrimp... Um, hum. He kissed her breasts. Weve got a community meeting in one hour, she said, though she helped by sliding her shorts over her hips. And youve got to lead it since Nannas not here. No, no, no, he grumbled. But theres still time to visit the snack bar. He laughed and kissed her belly. She pulled his shirt over his head, then kissed his chest. He had an even coverage of gray chest hairnot too much, but more than Beaus, whose chest was smooth and dotted with freckles but few

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hairs. Will was much larger than Beau, wider and taller, making Beth Ann feel smaller and more delicate in bed. Will was in control when they had sex, lifting her and rolling her over, maneuvering her with his large hands on her waist. He was never rough with her, but aggressive, knowing what he wanted when he wanted it and making no apologies for it. With Beau, it had been different. Their bodies matched their temperaments. Just as their height and width matched so closely that they could probably wear each others clothes, so did their sexual aggression. They took turns dominating, giving and taking with the courtesy of one opening a door for another only to have the other open the second door. It didnt take long for Will to finish then hurry to the bathroom for a wash cloth. Beth Ann placed the pillow beneath her hips, wishing she had followed the same procedure with Beau, but she hadnt wanted to be obvious. What are you doing? Will asked. He handed her the wash cloth. I just want to make sure what sperm we do have stays in. She took the cloth from him but didnt use it. Im ovulating today. He formed an expression on his face she couldnt interpret, a cross between disappointment and frustration. He reached down for his underwear. He was back to wearing briefs rather than the boxers she bought him. Whats wrong? she asked. He crossed the room to where she had tossed his shirt and picked it up. Nothing, he said. I just wish you wouldnt do this to yourself. Do what? She leaned up on her elbows with her knees still elevated.

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He sat on the side of the bed with his back to her, putting on his socks. I just think we...you need to start accepting the fact that there may not be a baby in our future. Why should I accept it when its not true. It might be. We dont know. We might not know for sure, but Im going to do everything I can to help it along. She lay back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling. He stood and walked to the dresser. I just dont like seeing you get all excited only to get disappointed month after month. You worry about you, and Ill worry about me. She could be pregnant already, and if not, then maybe the sperm that would do the job, Wills sperm, was making its way into her egg right now. I dont give up so soon. Well maybe you should, Beth Ann. At least for now. He turned to face her and rested his hand on her knee. Weve got Robin to raise, and God knows her teenage years wont be easy. And this house. Its virtually falling apart and theres not enough room for the three of us, much less a baby. Wait a minute. She pulled the pillow out from under her legs and sat up. A minute ago we were talking about not being able to have a baby. Now, youre talking about not wanting to have a baby. Theres a big difference here. Will fidgeted with the bedspread, tracing the stitches with his finger. Its just...were enjoying each other so much...you dont know what its like to have your whole life monopolized by a kids schedule. Maybe I dont know, but I have the right to learn about it. Dont I?

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But if you knew how our lives were going to change, youd... She pulled the sheet over her body and leaned against the headboard. You dont want me to have a child. Youve got yours and youve decided thats enough. She shook her head and bit her lip. When they dated it was he who suggested having the vasectomy reversal if that was what she wanted. When they first married, he told her how wonderful it would be to have a little girl that looked exactly like her running around the house entertaining them. He reached out and hugged her, pinning her arms to her side. I just dont want to share you with a baby. I want us to live a little. Build a big house on a lake, go fishing...I want us to grow old together. Live in a big, empty house and grow old. Thats your idea of living? She struggled away from his grasp. Sounds like a nursing home to me. Ive done all I can for you, Beth Ann. I had the surgery... She shook all over. Youve done all you can? What about all those missed sperm tests? What about wearing briefs instead of boxers? What about the pills you refuse to take, the herbs you think are stupid. Will stood and walked down the hall toward the bathroom. She jumped out of the bed and followed him, wrapped in her sheet and shaking so badly her teeth rattled. What about all that, Will? Weve got to get dressed, he said. He closed the bathroom door behind him. She opened it, pushing it too hard and slamming the door against the wall. Dont dismiss me, Will. This is serious. I need to know...

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Know what? He turned around and walked to her. Know if I have sperm so you can decide whether or not to leave me? What? Ive never said Id leave you if you didnt have sperm. But you will. Wont you? He put his arms around her and hugged her tightly so that she could not see him, holding her head to his chest. His heart thundered. I cant, Beth Ann. I dont have sperm. She leaned back her head, but he pressed it back to his chest. I did go to the doctor...several of them. Enough to know that the surgery didnt work. I dont have one single sperm. Beth Ann was stunned. This had to be a trick. He was testing her, waiting to see how shed react, waiting for her to tell him shed already taken care of it. If you went to your appointments, then why didnt you tell me? She pulled away from him and stepped back. He examined her feet. I guess I was just waiting, hoping that youd change your mind. You think its that easy? You think I can just change my mind like deciding what to wear? I was wrong. I should have told you. Beth Ann walked away. She wanted to tell him he should have more faith in her than to think shed leave him, but faithfulness wasnt exactly her strong suit since Beau. She wanted to tell him that nothing was worse than his lying to her, but what about her lie of omission? Two days with Beau had aborted every

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offensive strategy that came to mind. What does science know? she said. I hear of people all the time getting pregnant when they thought they couldnt. Not without sperm they dont. It only takes one, and the test could have been wrong. We probably had sex the night before that test. If you had saved up, like we did this weekend, then it might have shown some. She could hear herself ramble, desperation taking over her restraint. What if she was pregnant? How could she convince Will that the baby was his if he was so sure of the test results. Nothings impossible, she told him. Its not going to happen, Beth Ann. If Beau had gotten her pregnant, then she had to open the door for later. She had to convince him that there were options. Besides, there are other ways to get pregnant. Theres invitro fertilization and donor sperm... Will huffed and followed her into the bedroom. You just dont get it. Youre not hearing what Im saying. I hear you. I hear all of it. She picked up her panties and slid them on under the sheet. You dont want to have another surgery. Youve done your part...but dont worry. Ill figure out a way. Will grabbed her by the arms and turned her around, looking her straight in the eyes. I dont want another kid, he said. His voice was so clear and so strong that it could shatter glass. But you used to...You said you wanted... She felt like she might vomit or pass out. She couldnt focus her eyes.

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I thought I could do it. I even went through the surgery thinking that if it worked, Id go ahead and raise the child. I just wanted you happy. And now? She pulled on her shorts and sat at the foot of the bed looking away from him. Now you want me miserable? I just cant stand to see you this way month after month, getting your hopes up only to get depressed... So youre doing this for me. Sentencing me to a life of childlessness for my own good. He walked toward her with his arms extended. I dont know why youd want to bring a child into this world in this day and age. Not any child, Will. My child. Our child. Wed be great parents. Im not questioning your parenting skills. I just think we need to consider that this is the way things are going to be. I cant accept that. Will walked to her and massaged her shoulders. I know its hard to accept, but maybe its Gods will. She whirled around and faced him. Dont blame God for your selfishness. Im being selfish, Will chuckled sarcastically and walked away. Youve had your child and thats enough, so to hell with what I want. And Im the one raising her, your daughter, while you and Lana go around wrecking cars and following each other around like youre still married. And you stand there with the audacity to tell me that I dont know whats involved in

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raising a kid? She yanked her T-shirt over her head and barged out of the room, shoving him against the doorframe when he didnt move. Weve got to go, Will said. Well talk about this later. Beth Ann shot him the most hateful look she could manage, grabbed her shoes by the door, then charged out the back door. She hopped on one leg yanking on her sandals, then marched down the drive, grinding the gravel with her heels. At the road where she was supposed to turn right to go to the meeting, she turned left and kept walking. She wished she had grabbed her running shoes instead of the flimsy sandals. That way she could run as hard as she could, not stopping until she was exhausted and flat on her back. The playground at the elementary school was deserted. Two squirrels chased each other across a seesaw, then scurried across the yard and into the woods. The streetlights hummed and buzzed before blinking on overhead. Beth Ann took off her shoes and walked the sandy path to the swings. When she worked here, at the elementary school, shed come out during her break to watch the small children play. Every day at least one of them came to her, seeking her attention. They grabbed her legs in shopping malls when they couldnt find their mothers. They reached out to her from shopping carts and played peek-a-boo with her over restaurant booths. Even when she wasnt trying to coo them or coax their tear-washed faces to smile, they came to her. She always thought it meant that she would be a good mother. Now, as she looked across the empty playground she realized it might be something more.

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Perhaps children knew something she did not, having just come from the Creator. Maybe their souls were hovering somewhere near God when He mentioned that she was one who would never give birth to a child, so that when they found themselves near her on Earth they smiled at her out of sheer recognition, like a traveler seeing a fellow countryman in a foreign land. She sat in the leather sling-like seat and pulled back on the chains, kicking and leaning back, pointing her toes and lunging forward, pumping higher and higher, wishing she could let go at just the right moment, fly into heaven, and grab a soul for herself.

When Beau told Rachel he would help her with Tommy by accompanying them to the community meeting, she sighed and shook her head but said nothing. He hadnt seen Beth Ann since he left her house before dawn, and he was already missing her. Seeing her in public would be an improvement over what he imagined when he did not see her, wondering what she and her husband were doing, and imagining them making love. When Will had come home at 1:45 in the afternoon, Beau was roofing Rachels house. Will didnt spot him though, obviously anxious to get inside and ravish Beth Ann. She would have sanitized the place of him, bleaching his smell from the sheets, cleaning and putting away the dishes they had used, fluffing the pillow he had laid his head on. She would be kissing Will now, telling him how she missed him, how quiet the house had been without Robin and him. Then he would grab her, pull her to him, unbutton her blouse, touch her breast...

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He never expected it would be easy, stepping outside of her life. It helped that he had slipped out of the house before she woke, kissing her on the forehead and whispering his good-bye. It also helped that he had taken her elastic hair band and wore it now, wondering if she thought she had misplaced it after he had slipped it out of her hair and made love to her on the living room rug. Or maybe she hadnt noticed it was missing at all. From his angle on the roof, he could not see into the house; only gaze across the top of it, sorting out the blueprints in his head, wishing a tornado would come by and rip off the roof, sucking Will out and tossing him in. He hammered the nails too hard, making indentations in the shingles. He eased up, listened for the roar like that of a train, waited for the rain and the hail, then went back to his work, telling himself that every day it would get a little easier. He knew she was married when he took the elastic from her hair that night, and she was still married. He was working on the house before, and he was working on the house now. Nothing had changed, really, except the band that was on her hair last night was now around his, squeezing his hair with its lavender scent, keeping the hair out of his eyes so he could see to help Tommy dress for the town meeting. Shed be there, and hed behave, making eye contact only when she initiated it, following her into a private nook only when she gestured for him to do so. Tommy and Rachel were ready, tuna casserole in hands, when Beth Ann dashed out of her house. The three of them stood at the kitchen window watching her storm down the drive. Rachel gave Beau her best look of warning, urging him

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without words not to follow her. He nodded and took Tommys arm. Lets get on to the meeting, he said. Rachel smiled at him and nodded approval. Will joined them before they reached the end of the drive. His face was bright red in contrast to his bronze arms. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked around as they walked, craning his neck to see around the roads bend in the opposite direction of their walk. Wont Beth Ann be joining us? Rachel asked. Shes...not feeling well. But she may come later. Let me know if I can do anything for her, Rachel said. It wont be the same without her and Nanna. No, Will said, I suppose it wont. Werdner and several other men stood outside the door laughing at something one of them had said. When Rachel walked up the men smiled at her and joked with Tommy, asking him about wrestling and if he had a girlfriend yet. Will stopped and shook each of their hands, asking them if theyd had the opportunity to meet Beau, Rachels nephew. Beau shook hands with each man as Will rattled off their names and told an anecdote on each man. Beaus going to be attending law school come fall, he told them. You and Kurtll have to give him a job down at your office, Werdner said. Will nodded and smiled. Dont think I havent thought about that. Might even let him have mine, truth be known. Thatll never happen, one of the men said.

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You like being a hotshot attorney more than you let on, another said. Beau looked to Will for an expression that would suggest what was going on inside the Morgan house. Why had Beth Ann stormed out? Why did he lie and say she was sick when she was somewhere on the other side of the roads bend? If he had found out about Beau and her time together, then he was a better politician than Beau ever imagined. Wheres your better half? Werdner asked. He looked behind Will as if he were hiding her. Shes a little under the weather, so Im in charge tonight. Wed better get on inside before the womenfolk get all worked up over the food getting cold. Will smiled and patted them all on their backs. When everyone was turned around and moving inside the door, he looked back one last time beyond Beau, where the street lights sputtered, then flickered on. The road was deserted except for the lightning bugs that dotted the darkness like freckles.

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PART THREE: MOTHERLAND

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN Claire Dear Beth Ann: Nanna was here today, drove up in that huge silver trailer and pleaded with me to come back with her to Moundville for some teary-eyed reunion like you read about in one of those inspirational magazines. She thinks I can pop back into your life and take up where I left off. I asked her if that meant enrolling you in the first grade, but sarcasm is lost on your grandmother. It seems shes got some notion of knocking on the pearly gates before long and wants to get everything in order before she goes. She always did have a penchant to control things; so dont be surprised if she continues to control life on earth from up there once she does keel over. I didnt write to bitch about Rose, though. I wrote to tell you why Im not coming, since I have no idea what shell tell you. First of all, let me say that I know you are a very smart young woman. Thats why I wont try to bullshit you with talk-show clichs about victimization and forgiveness. Nanna wont let me

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tell you much, insisting on being the one who tells you and at just the right time, but I will tell you this. When I left in January of 1964, I had every intention of taking you with me. In fact, I had your bags packed alongside mine when Rose walked in and changed both of our lives. She looked at the suitcases and asked me where I thought I was going. I told her there was nothing to keep me there, so I was going home to be near my parents. She said that was fine for me, but it would be bad for you, uprooting you so soon after your fathers death. We debated back and forth, then she suggested that you stay just until I got settled in Mobile and knew it was the place I wanted to stay. She said shed take care of you while you got over your fathers death, then youd be ready to move in with me come school time. I know I should have come back for you, but I went off the deep end down here and got kicked out of my parents house. It took me forever to find a job and a place I wouldnt mind bringing you to. When I finally did get on my feet, it was too late. Rose wouldnt let you come, saying that you were finally over your fathers death, and a change as drastic as moving to Mobile might start your depression all over again. Later, when you were older and Id been through a few husbands, Rose said she didnt want someone as unstable as me raising you. I objected, of course, but I didnt have the money or the guts to fight her, because deep down I felt you were better off up there. I knew shed move heaven and earth to make sure you had all you needed, while I moved from marriage to marriage trying to

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build up something on my own, each time marrying better than the time before but never scoring a life for myself. I sent the postcards and the money so youd remember me and know I remembered you. The highlights of my life were the times, once a year, when Id get your school days picture. I framed each of them and hung them first thing when I moved to another house. When people asked me who you were, Id tell them that you were my sisters daughter, the love of my life. I know I am not your mother in any sense of the word, and I respect you enough not to pretend that I am. I guess all Im saying in this letter is that I am sorry. Im sorry for leaving you with Nanna all those years, though Id be willing to bet your life is better than it couldve ever been with me. What I am most sorry for is hurting you, making you feel unloved and unwanted because of my absence. Believe me, these are feelings I know all too well. There are no excuses for what we did to you, but there are reasons. Nanna wants you to know these reasons so she can rest in peace, knowing that she took no secrets with her to the grave. I told Rose that I didnt want any part of her unveiling ceremony. Know this, though, if you ever need me or ever want to talk to me, Ill be there within hours. I will return to Moundville by your invitation only. I know its too late to be your mother, but its never too late to be your friend. As always, Im thinking of you With love, Claire

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If he had seen his fellow law school students before he registered, Beau might not have signed the check. All around him sat people who were clearly delusional about being lawyers. Cashiers, repairmen, nurses, and even pizza delivery persons lined the courtroom that served as their makeshift classroom. The teacher, an ambulance chaser in a cheap suit, sat in the judge's chair acting superior over the people who had as much a chance of passing the state bar exam as he had of becoming a Supreme Court Justice. Yet, the unaccredited school took their money in return for unattainable dreams. He sat through the orientation listening to person after person suck up to the bozo on the bench while he got cockier and cockier, telling them how only the really bright people pass the bar regardless of what school they attended. Then he droned on about a friend of his who attended Harvard yet never passed the bar while he, a Tuscaloosa School of Law graduate, passed on the first try. Look at Jack Kennedy Jr., he said. It took him three times to pass it, and Im not so sure he didnt have help that third time, if you know what I mean... Beau thumbed through the books he had bought in the lobby for his first semester of torts, contracts, and criminal law part one. Page after page of cases hed have to memorize and apply. At a reception with cookies and punch before the orientation, an older woman, a homemaker of thirty years, asked him what study group he was in. We all have to be in study groups to survive, she said. There are three folks in my group right now, but youre welcome to join. Beau told her hed think about it, and she gave him her phone number. Ive already written some of the landmark cases on note cards and hung them

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over my sink so I can study them while I do the dishes. Little things like that help, you know. He nodded and smiled, then excused himself to go to the restroom. When he came back, the woman had cornered an older man in a wrinkled suit. Beau, heres thinking about joining our little group, she said. We can meet at my house. I make wonderful lemon squares... Beau looked at his watch as everyone filed back into the courtroom for final instructions. It was fifteen minutes after three. Robins game, her first, began in forty-five minutes. If he left at that moment, hed be there in time for warm-ups. Robins making the team hadnt been such a big deal after all, since the Park and Recreation Board had so few people try out. What was a big deal was the fact that Robins coach was new to Moundville and didnt know Robin had a history of incompetence. When he told her on Tuesday that she would start come Friday, she said she just stood there with her mouth open, stopping herself from asking him why. Beau was the first person she told, and he had promised last night when she called him that he would, indeed be there to watch her play. The door swung open just as someone asked the bozo judge what a corporate attorney made in a year. Beau couldnt get out of the courthouse fast enough.

The reality that they could live, shoulder to shoulder, in a house smaller than 2500 square feet and not communicate on even the lowest of levels was testament to the failure of their marriage. Will did reach out, Beth Ann had to

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admit, reaching for her in his sleep like he always had; his subconscious overruling the silence of their stubborn wills. She knew he translated her cold exterior as punishment, but she told herself she was not as childish as that. It was more of a vacation from her emotionsdeciding not to decidethough she had to admit that she got great satisfaction in seeing him want something he could not have. Maybe hed learn something from the isolation and come to know what its like to feel longing, though he could never experience the maternal instincts that lay dormant inside her like a virus waiting to find that moment of weakness when it could take over. She had stopped sleeping altogether, spending her nights on the window seat looking out at Beaus bedroom window, wishing she had the courage to walk the few yards to his house and slip into his bed. Her head told her, in those nights when all she could see was the darkness between the houses that she was as immature as a schoolgirl, pining away for Beau because he was new to her and commitment free. Just give him the responsibilities Will has, and see how similar they are. But her heart told her differently, convincing her that every yin has a yang, and had she not rushed into marrying Will, Beau and she would be free now to go with their hearts without a messy divorce. When the Airstream stopped in front of the house and Nanna stepped out of it, Beth Ann took a deep breath and decided shed tell Nanna about Wills revelation, not sparing a word. Surely, Nanna would say that she, herself, couldnt trust a man who refused to have a child with his wife. Shed suggest, even, that they go their separate ways since having a baby was not something a

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woman could negotiate. It didnt take a lawyer to understand that the irreconcilable differences defense was founded on that truth. Yes, she would tell Nanna. Nanna, of all people, would understand. When she asked about Robin and the impact a divorce would have on her, Beth Ann would remind Nanna that Robin had not fully accepted her as it was, and hadnt she reached diligently out to her for the past four years? It was one thing to counsel a child a couple of hours a year, but shed gone all the way for Robintwenty four/sevenand it had not been enough. Never could be. Giving Nanna a few minutes to get settled in the house, Beth Ann walked to the mailbox and sorted through the mail. The only piece that stood out from the junk mail was a letter in expensive stationary, bearing an I Love Lucy postage stamp. The handwriting was familiar, though she didnt recognize it until she saw the return address. Claire Northern. She couldnt believe she still owned the last name. For three years now shed been married to the same dentist. Beth Ann thought she surely would have worked her way up to a surgeon by now. Maybe that was why she was writingto tell her shed met a proctologist or a gynecologist. She tossed the letter with the rest of the junk mail into the aluminum garbage can by the driveway. She didnt realize until she looked back down the drive, how accustomed shed become to seeing Beaus car parked under the sycamore next to the shed. She wondered where he could be, her jealousy stinging like heartburn. She hadnt talked to him since Will came home, but she had seen him on top of the house

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roofing without breaks, sweating until she was sure hed have a heat stroke. Did he think about her when he was up there? Was he sorry for what they had done, or was she just another woman in his long history of womenone he didnt have to worry about attaching herself to him? She found Nanna in the kitchen writing something on a yellow notepad. She was smiling when she looked up and saw Beth Ann standing in the doorway. What are you doing? Beth Ann asked, craning her neck to see what she was writing that was so entertaining. Nanna put down her pen and placed her hands in her lap. I was planning the 4th of July party, and I started remembering all the ones weve had throughout the years. You certainly know how to throw one. Nanna was famous for her Fourth of July parties with their barbecue, coleslaw, homemade ice cream, and watermelon. The parties, begun as an intimate block party, had grown every year, including more and more people until they were forced to move it to the municipal park. Now everyone in both Havana and Moundville was invited, each bringing the drinks while Nanna supplied all the food, music, and fireworks. Nanna reached out her liver-spotted hand for Beth Ann, who took it and patted it. Ive asked your mother to come this year, Nanna said. Beth Ann kept smiling for a moment until the news sank in. You did what? Beth Ann shook her head and squinted her eyes, thinking she had heard wrong; yet not wanting Nanna to repeat what she had heard.

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Nanna turned around in her chair, draping her arm over its back. Youre going to have to make peace with her some day. Why not now? Why not never? She made her choice, now she can live with it. Things arent always so black and white. There are things you dont know about her. I dont know shit about her, because she was never here, but I can live with that. Nanna stood and walked half way across the room, standing there with her hands out to Beth Ann as if holding an invisible bowl. You might be able to live with it, but I cant die with it. Youre in such an all-fire hurry to die all of a sudden. She opened the freezer door and scooped out some ice. If youre sick then well get you well, but dont use that as an excuse to start cleaning dirty laundry that no one wants to wear. I would think you, of all people, would understand the dangers of not settling problems from your childhood. I also know about letting go, Nanna. Not trying to change the things you have no control over. Beth Ann poured tea into her glass. It overflowed, spilling onto the floor around her feet. Shit, she mumbled. Nanna pulled a dishrag from the sink and stooped down to clean it up. Let me, Beth Ann said. I made it, Ill clean it up. She squatted down to the floor, but Nanna had already cleaned it up. Beth Ann took the rag from Nanna and wrung it out in the sink.

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Claire said she would write, Nanna said. Said she wouldnt come unless you wanted her to. All I ask is that you wait to hear from her before you decide. Please? For me? Beth Ann shook her head then leaned back against the sink, thinking about the letter with its Lucy stamp, wondering if Claire even remembered what they had been watching when her father fell from the roof. And if she did remember, was she that damn insensitive to use such a vivid reminder on the first letter she had written in years? Nanna wrapped her thin arms around Beth Ann, squeezing tighter than Beth Ann thought was possible, proving that she was in great health, full of strength and sharper mentally than most middle-aged people were. She hugged Nanna back, took a swig of her tea, and then put the glass in the sink. Well talk more about this later, Nanna. Nanna nodded and wiped a tear from under her eye. I love you, Bats, Nanna said. It was her fathers nickname for her, calling her that because Beth Ann had not been able to pronounce her own name, saying Bat Ann. One of the few things she remembered her father doing before he died was calling to her in different variations: Wheres my Batty Bat? I love you, Batty! Heres my little Batty Boop. He hummed the theme to Batman, swerving in and out of rooms with a towel draped around his shoulders, singing Bat Ann! She read once, in an interview with John-John Kennedy, that all he remembered about his father was that hed go around calling him Sam all the time, laughing when John Jr. insisted that was not his name.

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The words rumbled inside like boiling water on a stove. It would be so easy to say it: Im divorcing Will, Nanna. I hope youll understand. And since she was the one who said, only a minute before that things were not always black and white, surely shed understand when she told her she was in love with Beau. She might make her a deal, even agreeing to see her mother on the 4th of July if Nanna would trust her judgment when it came to leaving Will. I bought you some gardening tools when Beau and I went to Tuscaloosa to shop, she said. How nice, she said. Im glad the two of you are friendly. I suppose its hard for him moving to a small town. Nanna... The voice inside of her screamed. She looked at Nanna, who had already gone back to her notepad, scribbling names of people, she wanted to invite and food she needed to buy. Yes, she said, looking up and smiling. Im going. Nanna cocked her head and lifted her pen above the paper. She felt herself shrinking, closing in on herself. How could she find the courage to start her life over when she couldnt muster the courage tell her grandmother the truth? Now the voice inside her whispered, surrender. Ive got to go to Robins softball game.

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She retrieved the letter from the garbage can and took it back into the house with her. There wouldnt be a check in it since the money stopped years ago when she married Will. Reading it, though, would make Nanna happy, and if Nanna was happy, then she might stop all the nonsense about dying long enough for Beth Ann to tell her about Will and Beau. Robin sat in the living room watching Nickelodeon and eating Graham crackers and reminded her that she had to be at the game in two hours. Beth Ann nodded and walked down the hall toward her bedroom. Daddy said hell be late, she said, flipping through the channels. But Beaus going to be there to see me warm up. I told him I was starting, and he was so excited! Thats nice, Beth Ann said, knowing that if she didnt read the letter now, she might never read it.

When Beau arrived at the park, Beth Ann was already there, sitting on the bleachers watching Robin, who was in the outfield with her hands on her knees, poised and ready to catch anything that flew her way. Beth Ann had kicked off her sandals and sat barefoot with one leg crossed over the other and tucked behind the seat in front of her, her white shorts highlighting her dark legs. He wondered now if this was the same woman he had slept with, held in his arms for hours and told her all about his life. This woman, the one sitting right before him, looked so normal, so small and innocent; yet, she had taken only hours to change him.

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Beau walked to the fence closest to the outfield and waved at Robin. She smiled, hopped up on her tiptoes, and waved. The girls in the infield looked at Beau then at Robin before looking at each other. Beau gave her a thumbs-up sign and walked over to the bleachers. He sat just to the right of Beth Ann on the aluminum bench in front of her. When he looked back at her he had to squint into the sun that was lowering behind them. Beth Ann stared straight ahead, as if the game was in process and Casey was at bat. How are you? he asked. Ive been better. Want to talk about it? Not particularly. Wheres Will? Not here yet. But he will be? Thats what Robin tells me. He considered pursuing that line of questioning, asking her why she had to depend on Robin for information, and thinking he could wedge in the notion of neglect to further his cause. He looked out into the field, then scooted over to his left so he could be closer to her. I missed you last night at the community meeting. What were you doing there? He looked back at her. Im part of the community too, you know. Is that right? She smiled and cocked her head.

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Yes, Maam. Took a tuna casserole and everything. Even seconded a motion from time to time. No, she said in mock surprise. Damn straight. He looked back to Robin who caught a fly ball. She threw it to the first base, then waved at him. He smiled and nodded. Youre going to break her heart, you know. She looked back at the field. Youre just jealous, he said. Shes got all the time in the world to spend with me while youre hiding in that house of yours afraid to talk to me. Im not afraid, she said. Just married. You were never hesitant to talk to me before... Things are different now. She uncrossed her legs and crossed them again, leaning away from him. Only because youre making it that way. If you get too standoffish people might think youve got something to hide. Sounds like youve done this before. Beau took off his sunglasses and faced her. Have I done something to piss you off? Beth Ann took a deep breath the looked away from him. This is not some easy thing, you know, trying to be one person then being another. And its not easy for me to be on that roof all day and never see you. She lowered her sunglasses to the end of her nose and peered over them at him. Be careful up there, she said.

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Watch out. Youre starting to sound like you might care. She slid her glasses back over her eyes and shook her head. Im serious, she said. You know thats how I lost my father. He leaned back so his left shoulder touched her right knee, then slid his hand onto the bleacher beside him. Slowly, while looking around for suspicious glares, he slid his hand back and touched her ankle, tracing it with his index finger. He turned his head sideways and whispered that he missed her, that he wanted to see her again. She did not move her ankle, but stared straight ahead, watching Robin as she ran to the dug out to begin the game. In the morning, she said. At the reservoir. Ill put a towel on the clothes line to let you know Ive gone down there. She looked around, her line of vision passing just over his head, and then she uncrossed her legs, pulling them away from him. Beau followed her attention to the concession stand where Will stood. He waved and came toward them. Beth Ann scooted away from him, leaving a respectable distance between herself and his now idle handdistance just wide enough for Will, who sat between them. Beau, he said, reaching out his hand. Good to see you again. He patted Beth Anns knee and sat back, leaning on the bleacher behind him. Beth Ann did not respond, but kept looking out toward the field. Beau nodded and shook Wills hand. Looks like our little girls going to get some play time. Will spread out his legs and leaned his elbows on his knees. I had a talk with the coach after tryouts. Told him I expected him to let her play some this year. Beth Ann turned to him. Why did you do that?

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Cant hurt to mention something in passing, he said. Besides, shes out there, isnt she? Beth Ann shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. She might have gotten there without your...influence. Shes been working hard, trying to get better. Well now, shell have a chance to prove it. Robin stood on deck swinging the bat and smiling at Beau. He knew she wanted him to give her some last-minute pointers or an encouraging wink, but he felt gagged with Will sitting there beside him. Hed probably resent anything he said, thinking Beau was trying to take credit for what he had obviously corrected with his mayoral influence. Beth Ann would probably think he should keep quiet, lest Will notice any fraternization between himself and Wills girls. Wasnt it enough that he was already sitting by her when Will walked up? Discreetly, he winked at Robin and nodded. She swung at the first pitch with all the power of a home run hit. Settle down. Beau tried to communicate to her without words. Take time to hear the rhythm. The next two pitches were high and inside. She fouled the next pitch. Hit sooner. Listen to the rhythm. When the next pitch came, she hit a line drive between second and third base, then stood there, frozen, as if she didnt know she should run. Run! Will yelled. They were all on their feet as if she had hit a grand slam. Robin ran, awkward at first, her feet kicking outward. She picked up her

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speed and straightened her gait, rounding first and sliding into second before the ball smacked the second basemans glove. Safe! the umpire yelled. Shes safe.

Robins team lost the game, but Beau couldnt tell it by looking at her. She didnt even go to the concession stand for her complimentary soft drink before running up to him and grabbing him around his waist. I did it! she said. I did what you said and I hit it! She didnt mention the other times she had batted and gone down swinging, or the fact that she had been pulled in the fifth inning. Beau smiled at her and hugged her back. Will looked surprised, looking at Beau, then back at Robin. Whats this? he said. Wheres my hug? Robin ran to him and hugged him in the same fashion, though not as enthusiastically, You were great out there, kid. Robin rolled her eyes at the word kid, then pulled away from Will. So can we go get pizza? she said, looking at the three of them. Beau shrugged his shoulders and smiled at Robin. Will shook his head. Ive got work to do. Well go after the next game. Well then lets us three go. She looked at Beau then Beth Ann. I cant, Beth Ann said. Nanna just got back from Florida and she wants to talk to me about something, but you two can go...that is if Beau doesnt mind taking you. Oh, please! Robin said, pulling on his arm.

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Robin, Will said. Dont impose on him like that. Well go another time. Its okay. Id love to take her. Robin jumped up and down. Let me go get my drink, and Ill be right back. She ran to the concession stand where several other girls watched her as she slung gravel running toward them. Im sorry you got trapped into that, Beau, Will said. He smiled, but Beau detected an uneasiness beneath it. Its no bother, Beau said. Ive got nothing else to do. He looked at Beth Ann, wishing he could remind her of what she had committed to before the game, wanting to tell her that hed be looking for that towel.

It was an eerie sight watching Beau and Will shake hands, seeing how much smaller and darker Beaus hand was than Wills, noticing how Beau pulled away first, though Will kept holding on. She could tell by the way Beau watched the hands rather than looking at Wills face that he was uncomfortable. He stole glances at her throughout the game, leaning forward whenever Will leaned back. But he was quiet too, never initiating conversation, but answering politely when asked a question. He was on target about how her behavior toward him had changedespecially in public. Before they slept together, she had been openly

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flirtatious, bantering with him without a second thought. Now she suspected everyone could see straight through her sunglasses and into her conscience. When Will admitted hed pressured Robins coach to let her start, her face flushed with anger. And although she wanted to believe it was for Robin that she was angry, she knew it was personal. She stared out at the baseball field, her eyes shielded by the glasses, but she watched Beau, checking him to see if all of the nuances were registering with him. She couldnt wait to see him at the reservoir the next morning, so she could tell him about the letter, how Nanna had invited her mother to the party. She certainly didnt want to tell Will, knowing that he would side with Nanna saying it was high time that her mother and she buried the proverbial ax. Her anger had prompted the suggestion that Robin and Beau go for pizza together. Celebrate is what families do when something goes well. She wanted to go with them, toasting Robins success. The three of them could have pretended to be a family, if only for a few minutes. They were substitute parents, Beau and she, being there for Robin while Will and Lana struggled with each other, controlling each other like the moon controls the tides. If she couldnt be with Beau, then at least Robin could. And it would send Will a messagepay attention to those you love or you just might lose them. Will followed her to the Jeep. Whats the idea of encouraging Robin to hop in the car with a total stranger. Hes our neighbor, she said. In case you havent noticed.

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But what do we really know about him? Beth Ann reached into her purse for her keys. I know hes a serial killer. Would you please be serious for a minute? Will grabbed her hand before she could reach for the door of her Jeep. Ive done some checking on him. He got discharged from the New Orleans Police Department for some case involving a teenage girl. Beth Ann swung around at him, gravel gritting beneath her feet. You did what? Anger burned her throat. Jesus, Will. I have every right to know whos spending time with my daughterand my wife. Beth Ann opened the door of the Jeep and slammed it behind her. Will waited for her to roll down the window, but she started the car and looked straight ahead. He knocked on the glass. Beth Ann rolled down the window, knowing that if she protested too much Will would catch on, wondering why she was taking Beaus side. Damn it, Will! Why cant you just leave people alone? Will stepped back from the door and looked around. So you want me to leave you alone now? Is that it? Dont think I havent noticed that Artic chill blowing my way. Beth Ann shook her head, backed the Jeep out of the parking place, and drove past him, skidding on the gravel, then slinging it at him when she drove away, not caring who saw her do it.

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At Village Pizza, Robin played pinball while Beau stood behind her looking over her shoulder. She could feel him behind her, though his body never actually touched hers. In the car, she had rested her hand on the console, hoping that at some point during all of his shifting, his hand would brush against hers. The electricity she had felt that day when he put his hand on her shoulder was addictive. It was like drinking one of those soft drinks loaded with caffeine, the kind that was rumored to have glucose in it. She pushed the button that would pop up the last ball. She had played decently until then, keeping most of the balls moving through every groove and sprocket. The current game could go either way. She considered which performance would be better, winning with skillful ability so that hed give her a high five and tell her she was a real pro, or losing so that he would pat her on her back and tell her there was always next time. She pulled the lever, extending her elbow back further than was necessary, her elbow searching for, reaching toward his body like a goldfish after a flake of food. When it finally reached Beaus body, an arm, his stomach, perhaps even lower, she let go. Her face flushed in the reflection of the machine, the lights flashing and blinking, strong with the movement of the ball, but powered, no doubt by the electricity of Beau. She let the ball roll though the center, right down the middle before disappearing into a hole she could not see. The machine chimed and flashed her final score.

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Beau was still behind her, reflected in the games panel, her final score flashing across his forehead. If she turned quickly, swinging herself around before he could step back, her body could touch his full onface to face, chest to chest, private parts to private parts... Your pizzas ready, a voice came from behind them. Beau turned and walked to the counter the second she had decided to turn around, so that when she did there was nothing there but the air, still heavy with the smell of him, a sweet, musky smell that made her burn and tingle. He motioned her to a booth where he sat in the center of the seat on one side and pointed for her to sit down across from him. I dont know about you, Little Miss Pinball Wizard, but Im starving. Robin nodded and sat on the edge of the seat opposite from him. Her softball uniform wouldnt easily slide, still sweaty from the game and from Beaus hot convertible seats. Beau lifted the cheesy slice high above the pan until the cheeses grip let go, then dropped the slice onto Robins plate coiling the cheese around his finger, dropping it also onto her plate. He licked his fingers and served himself. Robin ate the stringy cheese first; knowing it had just been on his fingers. So wheres everyone been around your house lately? I never see anyone outside very much. Daddys working and Mothers paying me to clean her house and cook supper. She hoped hed be impressed with her ability to keep house and cook. Maybe hed start seeing her as more than just a kid. Wheres Beth Ann been hiding herself?

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Robin chewed the pizza, waiting to swallow and wondering why he wanted to know about Beth Ann. I dont know. Probably reading or something. She shrugged her shoulders and took another bite of pizza. Beau nodded, but didnt say anything about her cooking, her cleaning. Did your dad like his Fathers Day gift? He took it back. Said he was going to hire the same guy to cut our grass that cuts Nannas. Beau put down his pizza and leaned toward her. I saw the guy cutting Nannas yard. He looks to be about your age. Anyone you know? Just a guy from school. Uh, huh, Beau said, raising his eyebrows and opening his eyes wide. A boyfriend? No way, Robin said. Hes not my type. Why not? Hes too young for one thing. How old? Hes in my grade, but hes real immature. I like guys who are older, more my equal. Oh, Beau said. He smiled and looked down, still nodding his head. She couldnt believe he was thinking of Jeff Hankins that way. Here she was trying to prove to him that she was the marrying type, and he was trying to push her off on some geek from history class who never talked and sat in class drawing pictures of cartoon characters. Nanna was the one who hired him, asked Jeffs

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grandmother if he could work for her. Now he was over there all the time, mowing and cutting hedges. Every time she dressed up and went outside to talk to Beau, he was there staring at her like a mental patient. Has he found your stash yet? My what? The garbage bag you keep under the house. She stared at him until she felt her face turn red, then looked down. She had finished the first piece of pizza but didnt want to eat another one in front of him; afraid he'd think she was a pig. The first day I was here I saw you pull a bag out from under the house and go through some stuff in it. It flattered her to think he was spying on her, watching her like David watched Bathsheba taking a bath. She pulled another slice of pizza from the dish and shrugged her shoulders. Tommy knows you have a gun, she said. What? Beau sat still with the slice of pizza in mid-air, frozen in front of his mouth. Guess hes been snooping. When I took that stuff to your bedroom he pointed to that box you have in the closet and said you had a gun. Shit, Beau said. Rachel would kill me if she knew...Thanks for telling me. They had something in common, boxes with secrets that they hid but had a hard time keeping private. I have a box too, she said. Yeah? He was still distracted, folding his napkin repeatedly.

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I keep things in it that I want to remember. Thats funny, he said. I keep things in there that I want to forget. Oh, she said. She figured that was true about herself as well, both remembering and forgetting; writing down things then stuffing them away. Do you ever keep a journal? She had never known a boy to keep a journal, but she thought shed try. No. Do you? Two of them, she said, wondering if telling him about them would make him see how much they were alike. He kept a gun in his box, and she kept death wishes in hers. Is that what you hide under the house? She smiled. Yeah. You go to a lot of trouble to hide it. There must be some pretty juicy stuff there. He smiled that crooked tooth smile, and she wanted to crawl across the table right there over pizza and everything and kiss him on the mouth. Its all pretend, she said. And not what you think. She crossed her legs and accidentally kicked him. So what do you pretend? She looked out the window at the cars. They were mostly leaving, driving out of Moundville, headed toward somewhere else, somewhere better. Yet, Beau had come here. What place in the world could be so bad that he would want to come here? He had a sadness about him that she could see in those moments

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when he wasnt kidding around. A sadness like her mothers. The kind that glazed over her eyes when she thought no one was looking. I think up ways Id kill myself if I ever decided I wanted to. She thought hed show surprise, but he didnt. Have you ever wanted to? Sometimes, she said. But its not like I think about it all the time. I just write it down then close the book. Do you feel better after you write it down? Yeah. Beau nodded and pushed his plate aside. More than half of the pizza was still left, and Robin wondered if she ought to take it home to her mother. Shed be hungry when she got home from work, and Robin didnt want her drinking her dinner. I hope youd never do that...kill yourself, he said. I wouldnt, she said, gloating that he cared. Because if you did, youd kill everyone you left behind as well. She thought about that, wondering who he was talking about. People never get over losing a child. She nodded and thought about her friends parents, how they cried and lost weight. How they had finally packed up their stuff and moved away. They didnt even want any more children shed heard, saying that the thought of losing another one killed them.

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She looked at Beau, but he was looking out the window. His sadness was back, the glaze sliding over his eyes like skin over a sharks. Maybe he did care about her, and the thought of losing her was making him sad, depressed even. She took a deep breath and put her hand on his. The tingle shot up her arm as if shed stuck her finger in an electrical socket. Beau smiled at her and patted the top of her hand with his other hand. Youre a great kid, he told her. He pulled his hand back from her and leaned across the table. And I want you to stay that way. He grabbed her chin between his thumb and fingers, then shook it from left to right like someone does when theyre playing with a chubby baby. Robin closed her eyes wishing hed kiss her just once, but when she opened them he was gone, already standing at the front of the restaurant paying for the pizza.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Nanna When I was younger, Id get behind old people on the road and fuss and carry on because they were driving so darn slow. Had they forgotten how to drive? Did they not know that being a slowpoke was more likely to cause wrecks than if they were zipping right along, avoiding mishaps? Were they blind? If so,

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they should have the presence of mind to stop driving altogether. Now that I am old, I realize that it is not their memory or lack of common sense that fails them. Even if their eyesight is worse off than it used to be, it isnt the cataracts that make them slow and indecisive behind the wheel. It is the presence rather, of the one I call the grim raper. The grim raper should not be confused with the grim reaper, who comes at the end of ones life with his boogieman black and his sharp sickle. The grim reaper is clearly death, where the grim raper is fear. The grim raper comes before the grim reaper, announcing his coming like a siren before a tornadoby the time the siren blows, the tornado is there, pressing down on you with all the fury nature can bluster. The grim raper, true to his name, does not take a persons life insofar as heart beating and blood pumping, but alters the quality, making the grim reaper not look so bad after all. I know the grim raper well, because he lives with me, taunting me daily reminding me of what I cannot do, should not do, will not do because of his presence. When Beth Ann was a child, she was clearly too young to understand the mistakes of adults. When she was an adolescent, I told myself she needed more time just to be a kid, living carefree without the worries of her fathers past. When she was a teenager, I was selfish, fearful that telling her what I knew would push her away from me-- a rejection I could not bear. This was when the grim raper first appeared to me, hiding in the bushes, lurking around my door, telling me that the truth would set her free and leave me lonely.

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When she was grown and desperate to leave Moundville, I let her go, convinced that I was giving her freedom when the grim raper warned me that once she was gone, she would never come back She did come back, though, and when she did, I just wanted to keep her there, clinging to small victories. Now I have heard the voice of the grim reaper and there is no time. The siren is blaring and the skies are gray, but the grim raper holds me by my ankles, dragging me to the ground so that when the reaper comes I wont fight, knowing that I know what he knows: Fighting death leads only to living, and living leads to fear. I drive slower now, remembering every wreck Ive ever seen, every article Ive read, every newscast heard, every story told about someone killed in the mangled tragedy of steel and glass. I mistrust every step I take, both looking and testing the footing before placing my weight upon it, reminded of friends whose hips were broken, ribs bruised, and heads cracked open. I lock my doors in a town with little crime, having heard about elderly murdered for Social Security checks, beaten for twenty dollars, and left for dead when they had nothing to offer the transients who happened by their modest homes. Ive spent my life chronicling my fears; saving returned checks written to Rachel, pasting pictures of Tommy in family photo albums, frequenting a lawyer in Tuscaloosa regarding my will, and writing letters to Beth Ann that I have no intention of sending. Together they are volumes of encyclopedias that I hide in a cedar chest. The chest is full, its lid yawing with every volume, squeaking at the hinges as if to say: Empty me, or I shall be emptied. Purge me, or know that I will be purged. Explain me, or I shall be explained. If not now, then after you are

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buried, your mouth sealed shut, your secrets all exposed, and the memory of you torn and splintered like a rotted old shack caught in the path of a cyclone.

Will sat fully dressed at the kitchen table drinking coffee when Beth Ann returned from her run. His starched white shirt and tie told her, without her asking, that he either had a court appearance or a meeting of importance scheduled that day, although he was not reading the newspaper or mulling over a manila folder when she walked in. Beth Ann walked to the refrigerator without speaking and pulled out a bottle of water. It cant go on like this, he said. She knew what he meant but said nothing. Of course, they couldnt avoid each other forever, pretending to be strangers as they sat across the table and ate their meals in silence, nor could they continue to lie on opposite sides of the bed facing respective walls. They had to start talking to one another rather than just speakingcarrying on conversations rather than exchanging clipped responses like: Hello, Good bye, Yes, No, Thank you, Ive already eaten, Im going to bed, and I need to be alone. Beth Ann unscrewed the bottle top, took a long swig of water, and closed the refrigerator door. Will stood and took his cup to the sink, rinsing it with his back to her. I miss you, he said. And youre in the same room. She opened her mouth to speak, but she was tired of talking. It had all been said before. He didnt bother to turn around as he walked out the back door. She watched him from the kitchen window as he drove down the driveway toward

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the road. She looked for Beau. He wasnt on top of the house, and he hadnt been in the yard when she came in. A towel on the line would be the sign. A white flag of surrender, admitting to herself that she indeed did not want to grow old with Will, but wanted instead to fall head first into life. Feeling the pains of child birth, offering her breast to her babys open mouth, experiencing the anxiety of the first day of school, bandaging skinned knees, saving for college, worrying for the child, about the child, with the child, and having someone there to share that worry. Someone who loved that child as desperately as he loved her, for to love the child was to love her and to love himself, seeing her in the childs eyes, or seeing himself in the twist of the childs mouth. Beth Ann walked to the linen closet and took the largest white towel she could find and headed for the back yard. At the foot of the steps, she heard an unusual sound that she had not heard earlier when she rana che, che, chefollowed by gurgling. It sounded like it was coming from Nannas garden. She put the towel around her neck and walked over to investigate. She didnt see anything at first, only the water hose running from the spout to the garden, so she assumed it was the sprinkler. She noticed the water, spurting up and over the corn stalks. The water hose jerked, then settled down. Beth Ann followed the hose, walking down at the end of the rows and looking between them. The sprinkler was on its side, shooting water into the air, jerking and heaving whenever the pressure hit the lower side of it. She walked to the sprinkler and set it upright, the water splashing her face and chest. Then, as

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she was about to step back to keep the sprinkler from spraying her again, she saw Nanna lying on her side between two corn stalks. At first she wasnt frightened, wondering why she was lying down. A jolt as intense as lightning zapped her, squeezing her heart and paralyzing her body. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She ran to Nanna, turning her over and feeling for her pulse, but her own hand was shaking so badly that she couldnt tell one way or the other. Nanna was wet, soaked by the sprinklers shower that rained down on Beth Ann. She looked around, thinking someone should be there to help her, and someone should hear her although she hadnt uttered a sound. She opened her mouth again, this time screaming but not recognizing the sound as her own. Nanna, Nanna, Nanna... she said. Wake up Nanna. When Nanna did not wake, she put her right arm under Nannas neck and her left arm under her legs and lifted. Amazed at her own strength, she lifted Nanna and carried her, clumsily relying on her thighs for support to the edge of the garden. When she rounded the corner, she saw Beau running toward her, holding out his arms. Beth Ann began to cry making loud noises with her throat, her eyes blinded with tears. Beau took Nanna from her arms and swept her to the house. Open the door for me, Beth Ann, he said. Open the door. He lay Nanna on the kitchen floor and told her to call 911. Her legs acted, but her hands didnt work, shaking so badly that she could not punch the numbers. She hung up the phone, then tried again. All she could say was Help. All she could do was stand there while Beau worked with Nanna, putting his mouth to hers, his hands

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to her chest, pumping and pumping. Make her live; Make her live, Beth Ann chanted with every compression of Nannas chest. Please, Beau, make her live. She had so much to tell her still. Things she wanted Nanna to know; things she wanted her to see. Beau stopped and sat back on his feet. She ran to him, squatting down on the floor beside him. Ill do it, she said, putting her hands to Nannas chest. Beau pulled her back, holding her hands to his own chest. She felt his heart beating, his breath moving in and out. Shes gone, he said. No, she screamed, struggling to twist her hands from him. I can make her live, let me! He lifted her up, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her toward the back door. He led her through the door and down the back steps, but she kept reaching back toward Nanna. Let her go, he said. She stopped her reaching and her crying and looked at him. He was crying too, tears mixing with sweat. She hugged him, clinging to him with her weight so that they both fell to the ground. She heard the crackling, the trampling of something in or near Nannas garden. She jumped up and ran around the edge and through the rows, searching for who or what it was, thinking at that moment that nothing was more important than protecting the garden. Who is it? she yelled, running through corn stalks and tripping over swollen ground. At the far end of the garden just before the wooded area took over, she saw a deer. A red deer, big and strong, its hind legs poised to pounce. It looked back at her for a second before running into the

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woods. She chased it. The nettles grabbed her ankles, tearing her flesh, but she trudged on until Beau caught her, dragging her at first, then carrying her out. Did you see it? she asked him. Did you see the deer? Yes, he said. She knew he hadnt, but hugged him anyway for saying it. He loved her, she knew. And, she loved him. She wanted to jump down out of his arms and tell Nanna right that minute, bending over and whispering into her ear, I love Beau, Nanna. And he loves me. Were going to have children together and watch them grow up. Beau carried her to Nannas bedroom and lay her on Nannas bed, where she could smell the soft scent of talcum and roses and the metallic twang of beauty shop hair spray that saturated Nannas pillow. Beau? she said, motioning him to come closer to her. Yes. He put his face next to hers. I was going to meet you, she said. I was taking the towel to the line... Shh... he said, kissing her on the forehead. Tell me you saw the deer, she said, closing her eyes. I saw the deer, he said. He was big and red, and I saw him. She pulled his head to hers and kissed him on the forehead. I love you, she said. Ill love you forever. Stay here, Beau said. Im going to get something for your legs. She hugged Nannas pillow, sniffing so hard that she couldnt breathe between snorts. Beau came back and rolled her over. Jesus, Beth Ann, he said.

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He grimaced when he looked at her legs. She watched him as he dabbed something on her with cotton balls, but she didnt feel a thing.

He knew she didnt know what she was saying, and he doubted shed remember once she was out of shock, but hearing her say it gave him the confidence to call Will and tell him Nanna was dead. Will thanked him and hung up, and within minutes he was there, orchestrating the whole affair as if he did this every day. He held Beth Ann for a few minutes and told the ambulance attendant to treat her legs and give her a sedative. He called the undertaker personally and told him Nanna would be there soon. He called Lana and told her to have Robin ready to be picked up in a few minutes. He called the preacher, the newspaper editor, and his secretary, telling the same story each time in an even voice, assuring each one that hed give their best to Beth Ann. Finally, as Will debated aloud whether to call Beth Anns mother, Beau realized he was out of place. Thank you, Will said to him as he walked out the door. Thanks for your help.

Rachel was devastated. So much so, that Tommy started crying too, balling up his fists and beating his thighs, though Beau doubted he knew why. Beau made coffee and poured bourbon in it, handing it to Rachel once she stopped shaking enough to hold a cup. He took Tommy to his room and turned on the television, lying beside him on the bed until the wrestling caught his

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attention and held it. Soon Tommy was asleep, curling his big body into a fetal position. Beau pulled the covers over him and stepped out onto the porch. Cars were everywhere, lining the street and the driveway. People brought covered dishes, flowers, and fruit baskets. They walked inside without knocking, then left shaking their heads and whispering. Children played in the yard, occasionally being shushed by the men who stood smoking cigarettes outside. Beau drank Jack Daniels from the bottle, wondering where Will had taken Beth Ann, wondering if she was sedated in her bedroom or greeting the people who walked so freely into and out of her house. He hoped for Beth Anns sake that Will hadnt called her mother. It was her decision to make, and one she needed to make without the aid of drugs or the dull senses of shock. In shock, she had told him she loved him. In shock, she had seen a red deer. He lied to her for the first time, telling her he had seen it, and that lie prompted from her a confession of love. On the day of the funeral he pulled out the new suit he had bought and walked with Tommy and Rachel to the graveyard where his own mother lay. The preacher, a tall thin man with a long face, read the passage from the Bible about the virtuous woman. The whole town was there, some of them unable to hear the minister, but most of them crying. A dozen chairs arranged in two rows sat under the family tent, but only Will, Robin, and Beth Ann sat there until Beth Ann motioned for Beau, Rachel, and Tommy to join them. The irony was not lost on how much she looked like Jackie Kennedy dressed in her black dress, hat, and dark sunglasses; her hair slicked back into a

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bun. When they came to the chairs, she stood and hugged Rachel and patted Tommy on his back. Beau reached out his hand, not wanting to put her in an awkward situation. She took it, squeezing it tightly with both of her trembling hands and pulled it to her throat, as if she were mute and wanted him to feel the vibrations of her words. He could not see her eyes, and the glasses, like onyx ashtrays on her face, made her look pasty. She parted her lips as if to say something, then let go of his hands and turned back to the seat between Will and Robin. Robins face was as red as her hair, streaked with tears and sweat. Beau walked to her and she sprang from her seat, embracing him with all the strength and passion he had restrained within himself when Beth Ann grasped his hands into hers.

People she hadnt seen for years crowded into her house; greeting her first, saying they were sorry, placing the food they had brought on the counter, then asking Will if they could do anything else. They moved to another room where others gathered. They swapped recipes and household hints, compared notes on how often to water plants and how much sun each should get. They discussed jobs and hobbies, politics and religion, weather and drought, but few of them spoke of Nanna. Occasionally Beth Ann would leave and walk next door to Nannas house where shed sit in the garden or on the back porch or lie on Nannas bed until Will came for her. Several times she wanted to call Beau and ask him to meet her at

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the reservoir, but she was rarely alone for longer than minutes at the time, Will tending to her like she was a toddler who was too quiet to be trusted. On the day between Nannas death and burial, what the Catholics call the wake, but the Southern Baptists call visitation, the topic of conversation in the corners of the rooms was the Jackie Kennedy auction, how people had lost their ever-loving minds spending more money than some people earned in a lifetime. A strand of fake pearls selling for over two hundred thousand dollars. A rocking horse for over eighty-five thousand dollars. A tattered footstool for thirty-three thousand dollars...Beth Ann received a call that shed be getting her check back soon. At least she wouldnt have to explain it all to Will. She wrote to Hania a short letter penned in an unsteady hand and mailed it that day, the day of eating and waiting, picking out a dress, asking Merlene to style a dead womans hair, giving information to the newspaper for the obituary. Nanna wanted to be buried with her Bible in her hands and her wedding band on her finger. This Beth Ann had always known. But before she handed over the Bible to the undertaker, she placed between its pages the two sprigs of spruce Hania had sent her, pressing the books binding so hard that the spruce bled evergreen on the scriptures. She handed the preacher a passage to read at the funeral. It was what the tribal chief always said to the Kachinas when they went away into the mountains and thus into heaven.

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CHAPTER NINETEEN Robin Sometimes I watch the Nickelodeon channel like its science fiction. I want to believe there are families out there like the Cleavers like I want to believe there are friendly aliens on Mars who only want to teach us a thing or two. I think it would be great if fathers did always know best, and mothers were always there when you got home, ready with a snack or a listening ear. I think it would be so cool to have a sister to share a room with, knowing that I would at least have one other person to talk to, even if that meant sharing space. After the fire, my mother remodeled my roombought a new bedspread, new curtains, and even a new nightstand and lamp. I got to pick them out from a catalog, though I didnt see anything I really liked but settled on what looked the most grown up. We painted too, this time a beige color instead of the baby pink.

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She painted with the brush in her right hand and a bottle of scotch in her left. Tony Muldrow called a few times after the fire, but Mother always hung up on him.. She forgets most of the time to eat, filling up instead on booze. When she finds me in the kitchen staring at the cans in the cabinets, she starts apologizing for being such a lousy mother and makes me something with tuna and macaroni and cheese. We usually start out watching television together, laughing at the seven oclock show, but by nine shes out on the couch. I usually cover her with the blanket she keeps folded at the foot of the couch, then go to my room, hoping shell wake up eventually and go to bed. If she doesnt, she always has a headache the next morning. I call the bank for her some mornings, and tell them she wont be in because of a migraine or a virus. They dont sound surprised anymore, and theyve stopped saying they hope she gets better or to send her get well wishes. Its like everybody knows shes sick, but they dont do anything to help her get well. I take care of her the best I can, but there are only so many things I can do. I dont control the checkbook, and I cant make her not stop at liquor stores to and from work. When I try to talk her out of drinking, shes real quick to remind me that shes the mother and Im the child.

In the shower Beau leaned against the turquoise tile, trying to convince himself that telling Beth Ann the truth was not that big of a deal. It had been his job to go to peoples houses and tell them news that would change their lives. In

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most of those cases, though, it was worse. He wasnt telling her that her father was dead, but that he was just different when he was alive. He had a lover and a son. It happened all the time. Even she had taken a lover, though he didnt intend on bringing that fact up for conversation. Rachel had tried to talk him out of it at lunch, insisting that the attorney would handle the revelation with tactful discretion, but he didnt want Beth Ann getting cold cocked by a stranger. It would be better coming from him, he told her. She nodded and looked down at the pineapple and cheese sandwiches she had made for them. If Nanna leaves us money, then I am sure it would be in our means to hire a nurse for Tommy full time. Beau stood at the door and looked back at her. Are you saying you wont need me anymore? Im just saying that if you think you need to go, Tommy and I will be fine.

It helped to pretend, as he was putting on his khakis and white Oxford shirt, that he was donning his uniform and acting in the line of duty, knocking on the door of a home, and being invited in because he carried a badge, then sitting down opposite of them in a room full of pictures. They always smiled at first, trying to be cordial, then with a few words from his mouth their lives changed. First was the shock, then the disbelief. You must have us confused with

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someone else, some other family... One that in their minds might deserve what they were presently going through. Beau didnt mind the duty too much, though grateful that after the initial news was blurted out, he needed only to sit there and listen. They often times showed him pictures from an album or told him anecdotes about the last time they had seen the deceased. Or they told stories from way back, stories that defined the person while he was alive. He hadnt been the one to tell Caroline, though, since she and her husband lived just outside Beaumont, Texas. But he had imagined himself there many times; sitting on an antique settee with framed portraits hanging on the mahogany paneled walls. Shed cry, of course, while the husband, a man who had raised a child that was not his own patted her on the back. Hed be the one asking questions, while she faded away to thoughts of her daughters last minutes alive. Beau would be obliged to ask the standard questions: When was the last time you heard from your daughter? Why do you think she had run away? Did she ever mention any people she was seeing? Did she have any enemies that you knew of? And they wouldnt know any of the answers. Theyd only shrug their shoulders and say that she was a good girl, a confused girl, but a girl who loved life. And of course it would be the daughter in the pictures they were talking about, the one with the pony tails and the ribbons in her hair, the one in dance costumes and braces, because they didnt know the young woman Beau had found, tattooed and naked, makeup smeared on her face like a Mardi Gras mask. That girl was as alien to them as the officer handling the case back in New Orleans.

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Beau LeFoy, Caroline said when the Beaumont sheriff called her to tell her the officer in charge knew her and wanted to speak with her. Ive got nothing to say to him.

Rachel was in the dining room playing with Tommy, so Beau slipped out the front door with his gun tucked into the waist of his khakis. The glove compartment was stuffed with maps, cassette tapes, and a hair brush, so he forced it back shut and slid the gun under the passenger seat. His hand brushed against a bottle. He pulled it out and considered drinking it in one long swig, giving him the liquid courage he needed. He unscrewed the cap, but when he looked up to see if anyone was looking, he saw Beth Ann standing in the doorway staring at him through the screen. He screwed the cap back on and slid it back under the seat, knowing that if he was going to win her over, hed have to curb the booze. Drinking was a Lana trait, and one Beth Ann would not tolerate in excess. She was smiling when she opened the screen door to let him in.

When he led her into the living room without kissing her, she thought he was being cautious. When he set her on the sofa but stood on the other side of the room from her, she became suspicious. When he handed her a photograph of her father and Rachel holding a silver tackle box-the same one hed given Will and hershe didnt know what to think. When he told her what he had come there to tell her, she stopped listening.

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It was too ironic for Beth Ann to believe. Beau stood there in the very same spot where her mother had stood ironing over thirty years earlier and told her that her father was also Tommys father. She couldnt imagine why hed make up such a lie. No motive seemed reasonable. If he didnt love her, he could have thought up a million ways to leave her starting with the obvious: she was married. If he was trying to hurt her, he could have made it personal, telling her she was too old, too ugly, or too neurotic even. Why would he tell her this monstrous story if it werent the truth? Then she wondered what, if anything, she could believe. Nanna was correct. Things were no more black and white than the truth was absolute. History was not law, and love was not forever. Marriage was not till death do us part, and death was not a passage to life. Death was her life, snatching away everyone she loved, leaving her with ghosts and lies. Fathers were not princes or kings, and mothers were not nurturers who loved unconditionally. She was not an only child. Rachels been invited to the reading of Nannas will. Beau sat beside her, placing his hand on her knee, but she could not respond, wondering what it was about him that she did not know. What did he have in store for her that would break her heart and leave her bitter and alone? He was talking, his mouth forming words, but she couldnt hear him. She sat there wondering what she could do to escape it all. How could she ever look Rachel in the face? She had to leave. Pack her bags and be done with Moundville forever. Nanna was gone. She was free. Hania would help her to understand. She just needed some balance

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in her life; something to believe in that would never let her down. The spirits were calling her. She can have it all, Beth Ann said. She stood and backed away from the sofa. It was all like a dream, the way the room blended together, the furniture smearing into the walls. Im going to Arizona. She stood and walked to her bedroom. Beau followed her. What? She considered that she might be in shock and took a quick evaluation like she had those few times when she drank too much and wondered if she was really drunk or just on the verge. She shivered. That was a sign. Wasnt it? She felt nauseated. The floor beneath her was spongy, rising to meet her feet. down and lets talk about this. Im going to Arizona, she said. She stood in the center of the room unable to remember where she kept her suitcases. Ill go with you, he said. Would you? she asked Just lets give it a whilesome time to let things settle down so we can do it right. Would you really go, or are you just saying that to calm me down, change my mind? The room was making more sense now, the furniture separating from the walls. Why would I do that, when youve just offered to let me go away with you? Sit

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Because its easier this way, the whole status quo thing. Easy? You think its easy watching you with him, imagining the two of you in this bed? She shrugged her shoulders and looked away, but he came toward her and put his hands on her arms forcing her to face him. I have always loved you, he said. Ever since we were kids. She shook her head, but she wanted to hear more, needed to be convinced. Do you remember the old tire swing that used to hang from the sycamore? She remembered the swing, how her father used to push her in it; how the tire made indentations on the back of her legs and hed call them skid marks. She remembered swinging so high that she thought she could fly. The room began to spin, pulling her to the floors center. Beau put his arm around her and she leaned into him, glad that he was solid and strong. He helped her to her bedroom and lay beside her on the bed, holding her until the she was cried out and fell into a deep sleep.

When she awoke hours later he was gone, but beside her on the nightstand lay a picture. In faded black and white, she stood there next to him under the sycamore. They could have passed for brother and sister. She wore bellbottoms and butterfly sleeves with her hand on the rope above the tire. He had freckles and a crew cut, his skinny legs hanging out the tires center. Neither of them smiled, and there was something in their expressions that would have told anyone that these kids bore within them the kind of pain that forced children into adulthood before their time.

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She turned the photograph over to see if it was dated, and found a message on it: I know what its like to lose a mother. She placed the photograph under her pillow and lay back down to go to sleep, knowing she needed her rest because when Will got home, she had to tell him that she wanted a divorce.

In her dream, she and Beau are riding along the ledge of Stephen Butte that overlooks the three mesas of the Hopi Reservation. The top is down on his Mustang, and their twins, a boy and a girl sit in the back in child restraint seats. The sun is warm and the wind refreshing. The children are smiling and laughing when she turns around and makes faces at them. Watching the wind blow through Beaus hair, she wants to kiss him. She leans toward him, reaching out her arms for him, but as she does, Beau slams on the brakes and jerks the wheel. She is slung from the car, but not before she sees the red deer he is swerving to avoid. It stands in the road looking at her, tossing back its antlered head as if laughing at her. She is falling alongside the butte into the canyon. Beau regains control of the car, and now he and the children wave to her as they weave around the ledge and out of sight. And she is falling, flailing her arms and legs through the air, waiting for the impact, knowing her back will break...

Farleys Bar was dark and dank; the concrete floor sticky with spilt beer and most likely blood from an occasional bout between two bored drunks. Beau had every intention of going back to the house and telling Rachel an abridged version of what had occurred between Beth Ann and him, but after he left the

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house, he changed his mind. He sat instead in the last booth in the back, facing the front door. The plastic seats were ripped and taped then ripped again. A boy, who looked too young to be of drinking age walked up to Beau and asked him what hed have. The cop in him wanted to ask the boy for identification, but the drunk in him asked for Budweiser in a bottle. The boy brought it to him then went back to the front of the bar where he played video poker. Beau replayed the scene with Beth Ann starting from the way she met him at the door. There hadnt been a warm up period this time. Boom and she was all over him. Was it the grief? He took a swig of beer and followed her into the house...then his mind wandered to what ifs. What if they did run away? What if they stayed in Moundville? What if they moved to Tuscaloosa so he could continue law school? After the second beer, Lana walked into the bar, stumbling between the light from the outside and the darkness inside. It was like watching an off-balance silhouette dancer. Several men stood and tried to steady her, placing their hands around her waist, some of them catching her high, fondling her as they set her upright. She slapped at a few of them and leaned into others, but always falling forward, heading toward the back of the bar. Beau checked his watch under the dim light. It was after six. She must have seen him when he leaned forward into the light, because she staggered toward him now, waving and weaving. I know you, she said in a singsong voice. She flopped down into the booth opposite of Beau, and the other men walked away. She tried to slide, but bounced instead, cursing the tape for snagging her panty hose.

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And I know you, he said. Lana motioned to the boy and yelled, Bring me a scotch. The boy nodded and pulled a bottle from the bar. New kid, she said, doesn't know to bring it on and keep it coming. Beau nodded and laughed. Youre that guy Robins so crazy about. Whats your name? Boo? Beau. My little girls got it bad for you. Named a teddy bear after you and everything. Its always Boo this and Boo that. Shes a great kid. Kid, huh. Lana took a cigarette from her purse, offering one to Beau, but he declined the skinny female brand. You better not let her hear you call her that. Shes thinking shes old enough to take you on. The boy brought Lana her scotch and set it on a napkin, then looked to Beau for another order. Beau shook his head. Hed had enough. Lana watched the boys ass as he walked away, then took one big gulp from her drink. Beau pulled out one of his own cigarettes and lit it, interested in watching Lanas tough woman routine, the altered ego of the woman hed met in the bank that day. Its my opinion, she said, leaning forward on the table, that you are too old for my Robin. I have to agree with you there. But guess what? She whispered as if they were children huddled under a table. She waited for his reply.

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What? She leaned in closer with her face only inches from his. I think you and I could be just right. Beau leaned back against his seat. And I think youve had way too much to drink. So youre going to blow me off, Boo? Just like that? Maybe I should call you a cab. She cackled, her ninety-proof breath drifting into his face. What do you think this is? New York City? Did you drive here? He looked at the door to see if he could identify her car, but it was dusk outside and everything was gray. You think youre too good for me, dont you Boo? She leaned back and rolled the cigarette between her fingers. I assure you thats not it. When the boy came with the drink, Beau motioned him away and told him to tally the damage. Beau signed the receipt then stood and walked toward the door. Lana followed him, grabbing his arm and nearly knocking him down with her weight. He took her arm and steadied her the best he could as they weaved through the tables and chairs. Several of the men smiled and made comments as they walked through, each of them slurring her name through drunken lips. He led her to her car that was parked sideways in the space, then walked to his own. When he looked back, he saw she was leaning across the cars hood, nearly passed out. He could leave her there, he knew, and somebody would take

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her home. She seemed to have always gotten home before. Then he thought of Robin and how shed be waiting at home for her mother, wondering where she was. He thought about Beth Ann, how Will would leave her to go rescue Lana, while Beth Ann lay passed out at home, grieving over the loss of her father. Maybe by helping Lana home he could save them all some heartache. He retrieved her from her car and dropped her in his passenger seat, asking her to buckle the seat belt, but she was so too far gone. He reached across her to do it himself, and when he did, she pulled the band, Beth Anns band, from his hair. He took it from her and twisted it around the emergency brake just before speeding out of the drive, throwing her back against the seat where she belonged. She mumbled to him as he drove, but the wind swallowed her words, and he was glad. He just wanted to get her home safe, then head on back to Rachels house, which almost seemed normal in comparison to Lanas world.

Robin was almost asleep when she heard two car doors slam out front. Her mother had brought home company. She looked at her alarm clock. It was after eight. Still early for her mother, but shed probably gotten an early start since she hadnt come home from work. When her father called at seven, shed lied to him, telling him that her mother was there and they had just eaten dinner, when in reality shed eaten a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and drank milk. It wasnt as if he really wanted to know, since he was so busy taking care of Beth Ann now that Nanna had died.

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It made her sad to think of Nanna in a box under the ground, knowing that shed never see her again. After the funeral, Robin wanted a keepsake to put in her box that would always remind her of Nanna. Then, as if Beth Ann had read her mind, she handed Robin a stone necklace that she said Nanna used to wear in the garden, saying that Nanna would have wanted her to have it. Robin couldnt keep it in the box, though wearing it instead like it was a diamond. She rubbed it now, hoping that it was a good luck stone, wishing that her mother would close the door between herself and whoever it was she was bringing home, praying that it wasnt Tony Muldrow. The thought of him motivated her to get out of bed and lock her door. Then she heard them in the kitchenthe loud drunken boom of her mothers voice, the dragging of her feet. The voices moved closer, into the living room. She could barely make out a word or two. Come on, her mother said. Robin went back to her bed and lay as still as she could hoping, like she had when she was younger that if she sat still enough and quiet enough, shed disappear. She rubbed the stone around her neck and turned on her side. She tried, as she always did when she was unhappy, to think about Beau. But it had been several days since she had seen him, and his face was blurring in her memory. They were in the hall now, her mother trying to seduce this man; him shushing her. Then her mothers bedroom door slammed shut. She could hear them through the vent now, their muffled words echoing into her own room where

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she lay. The mans voice was still low, but sounded familiar. It had better not be Tony Muldrow. Her mother had told him never to come back. If she was letting him back into their house after that last time... No, her mother screamed. You come back here right now! Why was she calling him back? They were finally rid of him and now she wanted him back into their lives. She jumped out of the bed and grabbed her softball bat from the closet. There wasnt a plan, but shed do whatever it took to stop things before it went any further, get Muldrow out of the house. The bedroom door was not locked, the knob turning freely within her hand, so she swung it open and let go, slamming it against the wall. She pulled the bat over her shoulders and waited for her eyes to adjust to the lamplight near the bed. There, standing over her mother with his belt unbuckled and his hair messed up was Beau. Her mothers blouse was unbuttoned, her breasts bulging out of her bra. Robin dropped the bat and ran, bouncing off walls and slamming into door facings, her chest hurting her so bad she thought she might be having a heart attack. She heard the voices behind her, but she kept on running until she was outside. She was in Beaus car before she knew what she was doing. The keys hung from the ignition, so she pushed in on the clutch and cranked it, not knowing if she could drive it, having only had one lesson from her father when he was insisting that she learn to drive a stick. She had watched Beau, how his left foot worked with his right hand. He was at the carport now, running toward her. She

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let off the clutch and jerked the car forward. It died, but she cranked it again, this time not letting the clutch out completely. She took her foot off the brake and the car rolled backward down the driveway. Beau ran to the car and tried to open the door, but she locked it before he could open it. She tried to put the car in gear. She jammed her foot on the clutch, slapped the stick back, then hit the gas. The car jerked, knocking Beau off his feet. She tried it again before he could stand, and she was driving. She lunged to the end of the block in first gear, not wanting to risk changing until she was away from the house. That way if the car died, shed have time to crank it again. At the stop sign she looked back and saw Beau standing under the street light in front of her house, waving his arms like he was waving in a plane. She couldnt breathe, thinking of him with her mother. What if she hadnt walked in when she had? Theyd be having sex now. She shook all over just thinking about it. She wished she had killed them both and been done with it, bashing their heads like coconuts. She should have known her mother would seduce him, should have know that Beau would fall for her. Robin jerked the car into second, the gears grinding until she pushed the clutch in all the way, then sped away from them. She drove fast, shifting to third gear, not bothering to pause for stop signs. She didnt stop at all until she was under the traffic light downtown, and it turned red. She jammed in on the brake and the car lunged and died, slamming her head against the wheel. Something slid out from under the passenger seat. She bent over to pick it up. The gun was heavy, probably loaded. She placed it on the seat

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and cranked the car again. Her answer had come to her, sliding itself out from under the seat at just the right time. A car slowly passed her, the old man giving her a disgusted look as he drove by. She turned her attention to driving the car. Shed show them! If death came in threes like Nanna always said it did, then shed be the second, right behind Nanna. Then theyd all be sorry. First, she had to get far enough away

that they wouldnt find her. Then shed write a note, blaming them for all they had done to her, telling them how many times they had let her down. Then shed shoot herself. It would be easy. Shed seen in on television a million times. All she had to do was open her mouth, shove it in, and pull the trigger. There was no one around when she turned left into the Archaeological Park, and since the entrance guard did not work at night, it was dark and deserted. She drove on the road until she reached the temple mound, then she veered onto the grass and drove behind the mound. No one would see the car that way. It might be days before anyone found her, and that was fine with her. Each day she was missing, more people would find out. More people would worry. So that by the time they found her, the whole town would be lighting candles and talking to the television cameras about how she always kept to herself and never bothered anyone. Students would talk about her both to and from their field trip to the mounds. Eventually someone would find her suicide journal and publish it, selling it alongside the Indian books in the gift shop. There would be rumors of her ghost haunting the temple mound. Shed be a legend, more popular in death than she could ever be in life.

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Lana had told him Robin was not home. Believing her had been his second mistake. Taking her home had been the first. The third mistake was believing he could help her into her bedroom without having her undress him. She had managed to unbuckle his belt and was working on his zipper when Robin walked in. He wished at that moment, seeing the look on Robins face that shed just go ahead and swing the bat with all the force he had taught her. By the

time he reached the road, Lana was behind him, screaming for Robin to stop. Beau insisted that she go back into the house and call the police, reporting his car stolen. Lana protested, saying she didnt want Robin to get into trouble, but Beau convinced her that the real danger was Robins driving a car she clearly didnt know how to drive. He remembered the journal, how shed thought up ways to kill herself. He took off running. Wait, I want to go with you! Lana yelled. Call the police, he yelled back, running down the road. Hed have to tell Will what had happened, knowing that it would make him look bad, knowing that Beth Ann would be more than suspicious. He looked guilty, smelled guilty, and even felt guilty though he had done nothing. He had resisted Lana with everything he had, trying to be courteous to her while strongly refusing her advances. Yet in the end, it was he who stood over Robins mothers bed with his belt unbuckled.

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She was still falling in her dream when a voice woke her. For a second she smiled, acknowledging that it was only a dream and remembering it was Beau who had been there last, rocking her to sleep. She raised her back from the bed, grateful that it was only sore and not broken. It was not Beau who held her now but Will, his hair and body highlighted by the hall light. He rubbed her back as if he knew what had been at stake in the dream, using his thumbs to massage the tense knots between her shoulder blades. They burst beneath his thumbs, the juice warm and electric as it shot through the tissue in her back and neck. Its like poison, she told him, though she realized she was talking nonsense, still groggy from her sleep. She opened her lips to tell Will that Tommy was her brother, but decided to wait, too tired to relive the drama. Whats like poison, Will said, rolling her over and working on the other side of her back. Everything, she said. She resisted him now, feeling guilty for his tenderness, and sat up in the bed. Where have you been? At the office trying to make up for lost time, he said. He turned on the lamp and smiled at her. She hadnt realized until that moment how tired he looked. He seemed to have aged ten years since she last looked at him. He brushed the hair back from her face as he had a million times before. Whats wrong? he said, scooting onto the bed beside her.

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Her heart was sinking, and even as she spoke the words, she wondered if she hadnt lost her mind and the conscience that once accompanied it. The Hopi married for life. Even when they separated, they stayed married, living in separate houses but never engaging in sex with another person. There were no provisions for divorce in the Hopi way, no reasons good enough. There was no way Hania would side with her on this one. Nanna wouldnt have either. Only her mother would approve, and that scared the hell out of her. Surely, her cause was more justifiable than her mothers. After all, she wasnt looking for social status. It was a baby she wanted; yet she loved Beau more than she ever imagined loving anyone. She was not her mother. She was not Nanna. She was still evolving, learning who she was a day at the time, shedding behind the skin of what she knew she was not. She looked at Will and took a deep breath. Remember when you asked me if it wasnt enough to be married to you without the prospects of a child? Yes. His voice was thin and breathy. Its not, she said. Im sorry, but its just not. He shook his head and opened his mouth to say something then stopped and stood up. He turned around and looked at the room as if seeing it for the first time. Youre just emotional right now, not thinking with all your cylinders because of Nannas passing and all... Its not a reaction, Will. Ive thought about this long and hard.

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Look, I was wrong to say Id never want another kid. Its just everything right now isits just not a good time right now is allso much crap to clean up But you were honest, for once. You spoke what was on your heart, and you cant really change that now. So what are you saying, exactly? Im pregnant, Will. He sprang from the bed then stopped at the door. He ran his fingers through his hair then put his hands on his hips. I dont have to ask whose it is, he said. Hes been sniffing around here since day one Its not his fault. I set him up. Oh really, he smirked. And how would that be? I thought he was the leaving type, so I thought You thought what? Will walked back and sat down hard on the side of the bed. What could you have been thinking. Beth Ann rolled over and faced the wall, not wanting to see his expression. I thought that if I could just get pregnant, you would raise the child as your own. And wed be finally be a family. Will sighed. Well, Beth Ann, youve got a pretty warped sense of family. And you dont? Youve never really divorced Lana, Will. She more a part of this family than I have ever been. Robin cuts me outthe only family I really havehadwas Nanna, and thats the god-awful truth.

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Right. He looked around at the room again then stepped out into the hall and stopped. Want to hear something funny? What? At one time, a while back, I thought about telling you that if you somehow got pregnant, Id be glad to raise the baby with youno questions asked He swallowed several times, looking down the hall. Then, I realized I wouldnt be able to live, knowing youthat another man had given you the one thing you wanted, while I sat back like somelike some dried up old prune. He stood there for a moment longer, then looked around. He took the keys from his pocket, then held them. Im just going to go back to the office for a while. He was gone before Beth Ann could say anything else.

A breeze, as slight as babys breath blew through the trees, rustling the corn stalks in Nannas garden. Beth Ann hadnt been there since Nanna died and she had seen the deer. She walked toward the garden, picking up fallen limbs and hickory nuts as she always had, concerned that Nanna might turn her ankle. She expected the garden to be parched, the soil dry and dusty, but it was not. Everything was lush and green, and baby ears of corn hung from the stalks. Nearly ripe peppers, cucumbers and tomatoes were everywhere. Beth Ann took a basket from Nannas porch and began to pick the vegetables from the vines. Once the basket was heavy, she headed back to the house to separate the goods. That was when she saw Rachel and Tommy at the edge of the yard walking away from her. She called to them, but only Tommy stopped.

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Were you coming to see me? Beth Ann asked. Rachel stopped and turned around, but kept her head down, her eyes searching the ground. I was just... I wanted to check on the garden. Are you the one whos been doing this? Beth Ann gestured toward the garden then at the basket. I know I had not right to intrude... Intrude? You saved Nannas garden while I was... Rachel nodded then turned around again. Tommy sat on the well cover rocking back and forth, staring at Beth Ann. She tried in that moment to recognize one trait that she and Tommy shared. Maybe it was the dark hair or the dark eyes. Or was it skin color? The basket handles cut into her arm. Here, she said. Yall take these home. Rachel looked at the basket then shook her head, but Beth Ann insisted, following Rachel toward the house. Youre the one who grew them, and we cant...I cant eat all I have. Please, take them. Rachel turned around and took the basket from Beth Ann without looking at her then called to Tommy that it was time for dinner. Tommy lumbered toward them saying: Take them. Take them." Thank you, Rachel said. No, thank you for tending to the garden. Rachel nodded and placed her hand on Tommys shoulder as they walked into the house. Some day soon shed have to talk to Rachel about what Beau had told her; each of them sharing the stories from the past like the vegetablesthe owner

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giving because it made her feel better and the caretaker accepting them because she had earned them.

He was sweaty and out of breath when he jogged up to the back door of Beth Anns house and knocked on the screen door. Here I am, Beth Ann said from the yard. Rachel and Tommy were there too. Ive got bad news, he told them, still trying to catch his breath. He focused on the back door as he spoke, telling them about how he had run into Lana and how shed been incapacitated when he took her home, and how Robin had misinterpreted his intentions. When he told them about the car, Beth Ann headed for the back door. Ive got to call Will, she said. Weve got to find her before she hurts herself. Beau leaned over with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. Rachel walked over to him and stood before him. I never touched Lana, he told her. Never had any intention of touching her. She was just Rachel nodded and patted him on the shoulder. Come on, Tommy, she said. Let me know if I need to man the phone here, while you all go looking. Beau nodded, then straightened up and went into the house. Beth Ann was running around the kitchen looking for something. Lana had already called him. He was already looking for her when I called him on his cell phone. Where are my keys? she said. Beau followed her into her bedroom as she rummaged through her purse then looked on the dresser. He looked at the nightstand where he had left the picture, but it was gone.

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I never touched Lana, he said. Look, she said. Im sick to death of hearing about Lana. Whats important now is that we find Robin. He wanted to touch her then, taking advantage of the moment they had alone, but he realized she was right. They did have to find Robin, and they had to do it fast. My guns in the car, he told her. And Robin...shes got this journal, a suicide journal. I think she might be... What? She turned around and walked back toward him. She told me about it. Why didnt you tell me, for chrissake? I didnt think she...Weve got to find her. Beth Ann searched the room again, mumbling. Ill go ask Rachel to come over here and answer the phone while you keep looking.

Beau met a very pale Rachel at Beth Annes back door. What is it? he asked her. Is something wrong? Its Tommyhe keeps saying that Nanna told him that Robin is at the moundsI know it sounds crazy, but We need very lead we can get, Beau said. Go get Tommy and you two wait over here in case someone calls. Sure, Rachel said. I hope yall find her.

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Just then Beth Ann ran through the kitchen and past Beau. I found the keys, she said, not waiting for him to follow her. I think I know where she is, Beau said, barely hopped into the Jeep before Beth Ann spun it around and sped down the driveway. ng Tommys lead. She had said nothing since they left, and she said nothing until they were in the park. Now what? Did Tommy say what to do once we got here? I guess we just look for my car. Beth Ann drove slowly along the road, shining her headlights on each mound then moving to the picnic area and back again. Maybe shes hidden the car or dumped it somewhere, she said. They circled around to the entrance where Hendersons cruiser was entering the park. Dont stop, Beau said. Well keep up our look and let him do his. When they passed the temple mound again, Beth Ann thought she saw something move. There, she said. Sheparked the Jeep so that the headlights shone onto the mounds steps and the thatched hut they led to. Getting out of the car, Beau paused at the edge of the road and pointed to the tire tracks that flattened the grass and led to the mound. Beth Ann ran ahead of him to the other side of the mound, anxious to see what it was that had moved. The other side of the mound was dark, but she could just see the car. Beth Ann, Beau said. Im going up. She flipped off the headlights and heard something scurry away into the woods. Beau ran up the stairs two at the time to the temple mound, his body backlit by the headlights.

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Wait, she said. But he didnt hear her. She ran around the mound and headed up the stairs. She was halfway up the stairs when Beau opened the door of the hut. A gunshot split the silence. Beth Ann froze. There was silence, then a scream. Robins, probably. Beth Ann crawled on fours the rest of the way, her hands alternating with her feet, until she was inside the hut and tripped over the body.

Killing herself wasnt as easy as Robin thought it would be. Writing the note was easy enough, but the more she wrote, the more she put faces with the people she'd hurt the most, remembering what Beau had said. The temple mound was dark except for a yellow bulb that shone over the reenactment scene. It was a family at worship. A father, mother, teenage son, and a toddler sat in a circle around a fire, while a chief towered above them with his hands stretched out to the sky. Corn stalks lay scattered on the clay floor beneath them, along with rugs and pottery. Having seen pictures of the Mississippian Indians in her Alabama history textbook, she thought the likenesses were too dark; their faces too thin. It was as if someone had pulled some fashion mannequins from the department store, painted them with brown paint, and then dropped black wigs on their heads. Robin decided to wait until midnight to kill herself, thinking it would be more meaningful then, though shed really like to wait for a full moon. She wished she had asked Beth Ann when the next full moon would be. If it was

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tomorrow, she might be able to wait until then. She sat on the floor facing the native family, wondering if Indians ever committed suicide. She knew the Japanese did sometimes, cutting themselves with long swords. The gun was

loaded, the safety off. She put it into her mouth several times, almost pulling it, but not quite getting there. It was like that time in biology class when they were doing an experiment to see what blood type they had. She was supposed to prick her finger with a needle. It seemed easy enough, but she couldnt do it knowing it would cause her pain. She didnt know how people with diabetes gave themselves shots. Shed have to have someone else do it, just like she wished she had someone else with her now to put the gun to her head and pull. But there was no one else, and it was up to her to just do it. Open. Stuff. Pull. Open. Stuff. Pull. It had a rhythm to it, like Beau had taught her about hitting a softball or jogging. Beau the savior. Beau the teacher. Beau the traitor. Open. Stuff. Pull.

Beth Ann couldnt tell at first what she was tripping over. She called out to Beau and Robin, but all she could hear were moans from both of them echoing inside the tiny hut. She bent over to the body below her and felt around until she found an arm. It was hairy and wet. Beau? she said, kneeling down and feeling around for his face. Are you okay? Its just my arm, he said. Im fine. Robin, where are you? Whimpers came from the far corner of the room. Beth Ann crawled toward them, talking calmly along the way trying to keep from

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getting shot. There was a thud as something heavy dropped onto the clay floor. Robin was to the point of hyperventilation by the time Henderson opened the door and flashed his light into the hut. In its beam, Beth Ann saw Robin huddled in the corner, a gun laying in front of her. Beth Ann took a step forward, kicked away the gun, and pulled Robin to her. Im so sorry. I never meant to hurt anyone but myself. Robin crawled over to Beau and put her hand on his leg. I know he said. He reached out his hand and placed it on Robins. Im okay, Beau told Robin. See? Robin reached out for him and would have covered his body with hers, but Beth Ann grabbed her and took her outside into the fresh air. Will was climbing the last of the stairs when Robin and Beth Ann emerged from the hut. Robin ran to him, hugging him and screaming that shed shot Beau. Beth Ann ran back to the hut and took the flashlight from Henderson. Radio for an ambulance, she told Henderson. I already did when I heard the shot. Then go wait with Will. She flashed the light on Henderson to make sure he was obeying her. He nodded and walked out the door. Beth Ann ripped off Beaus shirt and tied it around his arm just above the wound. Youre bleeding all over the place. Youd be a great cop, Beau said. Whys that? She lifted his head and placed it into her lap. Youre fight rather than flight. Thats funny. I always thought I was a fleer more than anything.

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You walked in, disarmed a distraught shooter, had someone call for backup, then treated the wounded. By the book all the way. Good, she said. Maybe I can take Hendersons job. She brushed Beaus hair away from his face. I dont know how you got mixed up with all this tonight. I want to talk to you about it later, he said. So there wont be any misunderstandings. The EMTs arrived with a stretcher and loaded Beau onto it, hooking him up to wires and tubes. Beth Ann held his hand for a while, then let him go as they carried him outside the hut. Once he was outside, Robin ran to the stretcher. Hes not going to die is he? she asked them. Hell be fine, Will told her. Beth Ann followed the stretcher down the stairs, wanting to ride in the ambulance with him, but she stood back with Will and Robin as Beau was placed in the ambulance. Lets get you home, Will told Robin. He put his arm around her and guided her toward his car. She needs to go to the hospital. Its nothing a good nights sleep wont cure, Will said. Right, Pumpkin? Will, please trust me with this. At the very least shes been though a great shock.

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Havent we all He looked at Beth Ann with a scowl, but when she would not look away, he nodded. I guess youre right. Come on, she told Robin. Well take you to the hospital so you can see Beau, then maybe you can talk to someone who can help you sort this all out. Robin, still shaking and crying, let Beth Ann put her arm around her and guide her to the Jeep. Will stopped short of the Jeep, then turned toward his car. Are you not going with us? Beth Ann asked Will. He stood at the door and lowered his head. I was going toyes, Ill ride with you. Beth Ann helped Robin into the Jeep, buckling her in and pulled the hair back from her face, while Will settled in the back seat. Are you okay? she asked Robin. She shook her head and leaned back against the headrest. Poor Beau, she said, starting to cry again. Dont worry about him, Will told her. He going to be just fine. I cant believe I... Beth Ann put her finger over Robins lips. He doesnt blame you, she said softly. He understandshe really does. Trust me. Robin looked at Beth Ann and nodded. Once they were on the road headed for Tuscaloosa, Robin unbuckled her seatbelt and lay her head in Beth Anns lap. She drove the rest of the way stroking Robins hair.

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When Will thought Robin might have drifted off to sleep, he leaned forward and whispered into Beth Anns left ear: You can play mommy dearest now, but you wait until she finds out youve been fucking loverboy. Then shell wish shed killed you both, while she had the chance. He laughed, then leaned back in the seat. And the funny thing, is that for once Lana was innocent.

At the hospital emergency room Robin stood next to Beth Ann watching Beaus silhouette through the hospital curtain and wondered if it had really been love she felt for him. Her mother told her once that sometimes when people drink, something happens that suddenly sobers them up, like an accident or a close call. Maybe she, herself, had been drunk on Beau, intoxicated with his attention. When they arrived at the emergency room, Lana was there. To keep her from upsetting Robin, Will took her to the waiting room, where he bought her coffee. Robin had made it clear during the drive that the first thing she wanted to do was to check on Beau, and Will, having no desire to see Beau Lefoy, opted to do what he had always donekeep the lid on Lana. Knock, knock, Beth Ann said, pulling back the curtain. He sat on the side of a bed wearing a paper gown and a sling on his left arm. Well if its not my two favorite people, he said. Come here, he told her, motioning with his head. Robin took a few steps forward, but froze again.

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She wished she hadnt come, but was at home instead, waking up from a very bad dream. I think shes still in shock, Beth Ann said. Im sorry I shot you, Robin said. She looked at her shoes, how Beaus blood was splattered all over them. Thats okay, he said. Ive got matching scars now. He pointed to his good arm with the hand that hung out of the sling. She remembered that day in the back yard when she asked him if hed ever been shot, how she had wanted him to kiss her. Now, she felt dirty inside, wishing she could start all over and take it all back. Were on our way to see a counselor, Beth Ann said. She must have made a gesture then, or mouthed something to Beau, because there was silence before he spoke again. Oh, he said. I see. Robin watched their reflections in the hospital window. She had shot someonecome within inches of killing someone just as her mother had. Maybe, if shed killed Beau instead of just shooting him, shed be drinking right now too, drowning herself little by little, like pouring teaspoons of water up her nose. Just let me get Robin settled and Ill find someone to take you home. I cant, he whispered. The doctors orders are to spend the night. Something about the medicine theyve given me. Well, Ill come back in the morning, then

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Ill be fine, he said. Youve got enough on your plate right now. He nodded toward the door where Robin stood waiting. Beth Ann nodded then guided Robin down the shiny white halls where the lights were too bright and the air smelled like mouthwash. Her sneakers squeaked in contrast with the clickety-click of Beth Anns sandals. You might have to spend the night here, Beth Ann said. So they can make sure youre okay. Youve been through a lot the past few days. Robin nodded and kept walking. It was strange how things didnt matter anymore, how she didnt really care one way or the other. She could stay here forever, or she could go home. All that she needed in either place was a bed, because she had never been so tired, so sleepy. If she could just lay her head down on something soft, nothing else mattered.

The woman in the pink dress was named Darla. She had kind eyes that never once looked away while Robin sat across from her. And although she had never visited a shrink before, Robin felt comfortable, as if she had been there before. "My stepmother used to be my counselor," she told Darla. "Well I imagine she still is, since it's real hard to just shut that off once you go home." Robin smiled. She was a smart woman. When Darla caught Robin looking at the picture on her desk, she turned it around. "My girls," she said. "Do you shrink their heads too?" Robin asked.

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"Only when they get too big," she said. She smiled and leaned forward, patting Robin's knee. "Are they yours or did you inherit them?" Robin expected to stun Darla with this question, but she smiled and responded quickly, saying: "I am their birth mother, but I expect I'd call them mine either way. Don't you think?" Robin shrugged her shoulders. "Besides, inheritances are usually wonderful gifts." The intercom buzzed and Darla stood and walked to her desk. The room was dark with the exception of a few dim lamps. Robin's legs sweated on the leather sofa and made sounds when she tried to raise them or slide them to the left or right, so she sat still, wondering how much longer she'd have to stay awake. Darla mumbled a few "uhuh's" then put down the receiver. She clipped her earring back on, then sat down in the chair facing the sofa. "Do you feel like seeing your father?" Robin wondered why she wouldn't want to see him. He wasn't the one she was upset with. She nodded, and Darla opened the door spilling hospital light into the office. Her dad was there, standing between the darkness and the light like a killer in a horror movie, only his arm wasn't raised and he didn't carry a knife. She felt a little afraid, nevertheless, when he walked in. She realized why she might not want to see him. She was sure to be in trouble for running away, not to mention stealing a car. And Beau, well she didn't even want to go there. Talking with Darla had taken the focus off what she had done and replaced it with how she felt. Her father was sure to want

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answers explaining how she could have done such asinine things. She braced herself as he walked in and grabbed her by her arms. "How are you, Pumpkin?" he asked. He hugged her, pinning her arms to her side and cutting off her air supply. Before she could answer, he pulled her to the sofa and sat her down, turning her around to face him. She looked to Darla for some kind of refereeing, but she was lost in the darkness of the office. "Everything's going to be fine," he said, patting her knee. "We'll have you fixed up in no time." He hugged her again, dragging her across the leather to him. Her legs made a sound that made her want to laugh, and she would have were she not so she didn't know what she was. Anger didn't really define it since she didn't want to break anything or hit anyone. Sadness was too cheesy a word, since only crybabies were sad. She should be glad that her father wasn't mad, but when she thought about it, she realized she wanted him to be angrywanted him to pick up that picture of Darla's two girls and crash it though the hospital window. What she had done was awful. Anyone else would be in jail by now. Not her, though. As long as her Daddy was the mayor, by golly, she'd be safe. He'd get her out of any crime, protect her from any criminal, and get her virtually anything she wanted. In his first campaign, her father ran with the slogan: "Will Morgan, The Man with the Plan." So it had been. Therefore, it would always be. She had finally gotten to him, screaming loud enough that he'd take notice of her. Now she'd be his special project, his plan, his chance to fix what was broken. That was, until the next project came along.

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CHAPTER TWENTY Rachel We were just neighborly at first, chatting about the weather and comparing gardening tips. Then I saw him fishing at Lock #9, the place I always went when I was feeling particularly low. He asked me if I liked to fish, and when

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I told him I had never tried, he considered it his duty to teach me. One Saturday led to the next, and we became dear friends. When it grew increasingly difficult for us to go home at the end of the day, we became more than friends. Then life got complicated. He told Claire the Sunday before his accident that he wanted a divorce. She refused, saying she would not have the town gossiping that she couldnt keep a husband. Their vows said till death, and she was sticking to them. I wondered for a long time afterwards if he fell deliberately, but knowing how much he loved that little girl of his, I knew there was no way he would have fallen in front of her. I was the first to arrive, after Beth Ann that is, but all I could do was stand there trembling. God knows how I wanted to go to him, take his broken body into my arms, but it was Beth Ann I held, giving her all the love I so desperately wanted to give to him, knowing half of her was Tom. She was all that he talked about when we were not talking about ourselves. He wanted her to be the first female astronaut, picturing himself watching her on television while she walked on the moon. The skys the limit, hed say. Nothings going to hold her back. When I discovered I was expecting, I was delighted to know that I too would have a part of Tom with me forever. I sewed for days, stitching yellow baby clothes that both a boy and a girl could wear, but it was a boy that I desired. Now that Claire was gone, I could name him Tommy and nobody would be the wiser...except of course for Nanna.

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If Rose Lavender was not happy about the circumstances leading to Tommys conception, she was at the very least content knowing that I was carrying her dead son's child. I never had to tell her the baby was Toms, and we never discussed it either. As my stomach grew, she came over more frequently, bringing food and magazines. Days before Tommy was born, she brought over the crib and changing table she had stored in the attic when Beth Ann outgrew it. When I went into labor, Nanna drove me to the hospital, while Beth Ann sat in the back seat. When I told the clerk at the hospital that his name was Tommy, Nanna nodded knowingly. Once, when Nanna and Beth Ann were at the house visiting Tommy and me, Beth Ann asked me about the babys daddy. I told her he had gone away to be with Jesus. She nodded and cocked her head, then leaned over the crib and whispered: Its okay, baby. At least you have a mommy. It was the first time I allowed myself to feel guilty for loving a married man. Thats why, when I first realized that Tommy was not normal, I was not surprised, since everything done in the darkness will someday see the light. I cannot say that I regret the time I spent with Tom, nor can I say I wish Tommy had never been born. I stopped wishing at all a long time ago when I realized that what I wished for was far more than I deserved. Now days I simply livenot looking forward, and trying not to look back. Its only in times like these, with Nannas death and Beaus relations with Beth Ann, that I allow myself to look back over my shoulder and wonder what if. What if he had lived? What if

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we had married? What if Tommy had been born normal? What if Id never gone down to Lock #9?

Beau had not slept at all when he looked up from his soupy eggs and rubbery bacon to find Will Morgan standing at the door watching him. Come on in, Beau told him, shoving back the tray. Will stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Hows Robin? Better, I guess. She and Lana are in asession right now, then Lanas gonna take her home. He jingled the keys in his pocket and looked around the room. Im here to take you home. You dont have to do that, Beau said. Youre discharged arent you? Yeah. Then lets get you out of hereunless youve arranged for someone else to drive you. No, Beau said, almost too quickly. Theres no one. Will stepped out of the room to allow Beau to get dressed. His shirt, bloodied then cut off of him was useless, so one of the nurses had brought him a tshirt from a benefit softball game they had played a while back, the ER-Shockers team. It was difficult maneuvering his arm through the sleeve, then back into the sling, but he managed, knowing the hard part would be the forty-five minute drive home with Will. Something about Wills demeanor, led Beau to believe he knew

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about Beth Ann and him. Either that or Will believed that he had really tried to seduce Lana. Either way, this was not one man being neighborly. Will had an agenda, and it was best to let him get on with it. Im not interested in buying that land of yours anymore, Will told him. They had barely left the hospital parking lot, when Will got straight to it. Whys that? Its just not going to work outthe hunting lodge. Will stared straight ahead. Though I dont know why you would need it anymore, either. Hows that? Well, Nanna left Rachel her house, so Tommy and Rachel can move out of there. Unless, of course, youre planning on staying and living in it Will was looking at him now. Beau nodded and looked out the window. It was another hot, humid day, and the sun glared back at him as if reflected from a massive mirror. They were stopped at a traffic light, the air conditioner making the only sound in the car. Well, are youplanning on living in the house? I dont know, Beau said. I came here to go to law school, you know. Will let off the brake and drove slowly under the light. Look around here, Beau. There are lots of places much closer to that school than Havana. Yeah, Beau said. I guess youre right about that. But theres always Tommy to help take care of. Will let out a fake laugh. Your aunts a wealthy woman now. She can afford a full-time nurseone thats qualified to work with afflicted people. Guess youre right, Beau said.

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As they headed toward Moundville, Beau remembered the first day he had driven that road, not wanting to move ahead, but not wanting to fall back into being a mechanic or a failed cop. The sun burned his eyes, so he lowered the sun visor. Pictures of Beth Ann and Robin showered into this lap. He gathered them with his good hand the best he could, but a snapshot of Beth Ann lay on the seat between Will and him. Will reached for it at the same time as Beau, and their hands brushed one another. Beau retreated. Will took the picture and looked at it while he drove. Shes pregnant, you know, Will said, his voice flat. Beth Ann? Beau said. His heart beat quickly, his mind unable to concentrate on anything but the one question that Will quickly answered. And its yours, of course. Beau could feel his own shoulders dropping. He could see his chest rising up and down, his heart beating against the ER-Shockers shirt. She told you that? was all he could manage to say. Yep. Beau concentrated on the pain in his arm and how it correlated with the beating of his heart. You two got plans on living happily ever afterjust the three of you? Beau swallowed hard, realizing he had to get a hold of himself and prepare some kind of defense. Who knew what Will had planned for him on this friendly drive home. I didnt even know, he said, almost at a whisper. Will shifted his weight in the seat, then smiled. Well, now. If that aint something. Not even telling the father of the baby that hes expecting.

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Beau kept his head turned, looking out the side window, occasionally catching a glimpse of Will in the windows reflection. Maybe I ruined things for her by telling you, Will said. Maybe she never wanted you to knowand now Ive She was going to tell me, Beau said. But unlike you, she was probably thinking of Robins welfare ahead of her own. Oh, so now that youve knocked up my wife, you think you can tell me how to be a father? Beau did not move, but kept staring out the window. Will sped up, passing cars even when the road signs advised not to. Know what she told me? No, Beau said, careful to keep his voice even. She said she set you upthat she only wanted your sperm. She said she wants me to be the father of that baby and raise it for my own. Is that right. Beau took deep breaths when he thought Will wasnt looking. Will was gaining momentum, his voice sounding cockier by the moment. Only one problem with that, Beau said. Yeah? You made it very clear to her the other day that youve got no intention of fathering another baby. When did she tell you that? Will took his eyes off the road. The cars right wheels edged onto the shoulder. Its not like youve ever kept it a secret, Beau said. Then, knowing he had touched a nerve, he added. Hell, everybody in town knows it too.

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Youre full of shit, Will said, yanking the car back onto the blacktop. Youre crazy if you think youre going to be able to pass this kid off as yours. Too many people know youre shooting blanks. Will laughed, then followed it with a grimace. You talk like Beth Anns really going to have this little bastard baby. Beau paused, wondering if there was any chance Beth Ann would have indicated that she wanted an abortion, then he thought better of it. She would have that baby, he was sure, with or without a man to call its father. It was all she had wanted for a very long time. He knew it, Will knew it, and all of the town knew it. Shell have it, Beau said confidently. And she wont hide it either. If theres one thing I know about Beth Ann, its that she doesnt give a rats ass about what your constituents think about her. Well, she better care, he said. This aint no fly-by-night handyman job I have hereits my goddamn livelihoodmy own hometown, and shes not about to go fucking it up just because she wants to have some romp with the stud boy next door. Shell do what she wants to do, and theres nothing you or I can do to stop her, Beau said, smiling. Well see about that, Will said. The way I see it, this thing can play out in three ways. One, you leave, I divorce her, and she raises her bastard baby by herself, tarnishing mostly her own reputation, which is fine by me. Two, you leave, I play Daddy to this kid, and the town thinks those doctor trips paid off for us. Three, which is in no way my choice, for obvious reasons, is you stay here

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where two of you play house, and I have to spend the rest of my term proving that a cuckold can still govern a town, while all the time, Im making your lives miserable. Of course you may have left out a couple of scenarios, as I see it. Oh, really, Will said. Enlighten me, Mr. Nightschool Lawyer. Four, Beth Ann, me, and the baby get the hell out of Dodge, leaving you to explain it all, not giving a shit what you say. Or five, she tells us both to fuck off and she spends the rest of her term and yours telling everyone what a son of a bitch you are. You dont want to fuck with me, boy. Youre way out of your element here. And I know things about youthings that will keep people talking about you long after youre dead and buried, which may come sooner than you think. Youre threatening me now? What are you going to have Henderson run me off the road or something? Cut my brake line? All so you can stay Mayor of this stinking little nothing of a town. Now youre just paranoid, Will said. Must be the drugs they gave you. Ill never know what she saw in you, Beau said, as they drove into the drive between Rachel and Beth Anns house. But we both know what she saw in you, stud boy, and now that shes got it, you can say bye-bye. Will slammed on his brakes, and the car skidded in the gravel. Then he honked the horn once, twice, three times, until Beth Ann opened the back door and stepped down into the yard.

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Your stud boys home, he told Beth Ann, sweeping out his arms and presenting him as if he were a prize on a game show. Come to claim his woman and his baby, so you can ride off on his back into the sunset. Beth Ann was clearly stunned, her eyes wide and her face pale. From the next door, Rachel opened the screen door and watched from the landing. Will looked back at her, then looked at Beau. Of course, he gets it natural, he said. Them LeFoys always have been bastard-breeding machines You son of a bitch, Beau said, charging at Will, swinging his good arm. Stop it, Beth Ann yelled. She ran and put herself between them, pushing back Beau and staring down Will. Get out of here, Will, and dont come back. Well, it looks like scenario number two aint gonna work, Will said to Beau, laughing. Lets see, that leaves one and three for me, and four and five for you, though Im still thinking shes gonna leave you high and dry, Buddy, now that youve given her what she wanted. Get out of here, Will, Beth Ann yelled. Get out of my sight right now or Ill What, call the police on me? Whoa, Im scared. Will opened the car door, but before falling into the seat, he looked at Beau, and said, Think about what I said, stud boy. If I were you, Id think long and hard about leaving if you know whats good for you. Will sped off, squealing tires once he hit the pavement. Beau looked back at the door, but Rachel had disappeared.

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He shouldnt have said that about Rachel, she said. Please tell her Im sorry. Why didnt you tell me? I didnt have time, she said. I was going to, but Robin You had time to tell him. I was kicking him out, she said. Is he right about me being some stud service to you? The moment he said it, he knew he had hurt her. How could you believe that? After all weve said to each other, all weve been through? Well, you did want a baby awful bad, he said, knowing he should shut his mouth, but the adrenaline kept pushing him on. She nodded, and then her eyes welled up with tears. Yeah, I did, she said. And this should be one of the happiest days of my life. She swallowed hard, then headed toward the stairs. So youre not happy then, carrying my baby. Everything is so screwed up. Why, because I know? Because I ruined your plan by sticking around, because I was stupid enough to fall in love with you? No, damn it! Stop talking like that! You sound like Will. Then whats the problem? If you love me and I love you, then why the hell dont we just pack our things and leave right now? It was okay to do the other day, but now youre all: I dont know what to do.

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Because the other day, Robin hadnt tried to kill herself. The other day, I didnt know how much she cared about you. The other day, she wasnt laying her head on my lap and trusting me to do the right thing. This is about Robin? She nearly killed herself because she thought you and Lana were having sex. Think of whats going to happen when she finds out Im pregnant with your baby. Shell get over it, Beau said. The counselor will help her. I thought you cared about her, she said. I do, damn it. But shes not my kid. My kids there, in you, and that happens to be my main concern. Well she is my kidor at least I feel responsible for her. Beth Ann sat on the lowest step and put her face in her hands. I just dont want to destroy her. So youll stay married to Will to keep from upsetting her? No, she said. Im going to divorce him as soon as I can. And that wont upset her? It will, but it will be about her father and me, not about you. Itll be all about me when she finds out your pregnant, Beau said, exasperated. And thats not something your can hide for very long. Not until later, she wont. After Will and I have divorced. Now or later, what difference does it make?

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Maybe by then, shell have time to get over youtime to work things out with her therapist. Im just thinking anytime is better than her finding out right now, when shes so low. The last thing she needs to hear is that the guy she thinks shes in love with is really in love with her stepmother. And what makes you think Will isnt on the phone right now, telling her just that? Im just hoping that Ill be able to convince him that he shouldnt. Im hoping that Ill be able to get him to do the right thing for Robins sake, once

Once what? Once youre gone, she whispered, then broke into tears. Beau took a deep breath then picked up a rock and threw it at the tree. Sounds like youve got it all figured out, he said. Just for now, she said, gesturing with her hands. Just until things settle down, and I can get a divorce I see, Beau said shaking his head. I just walk away like a good little stud boy should, he said. Stop it, she said. Stop saying that. Excuse me for not knowing what to say when Im gettingbanished, Beau spat. Its not banishment, I tell you. We make Will think youre gone forever, but its only for a little while, she said. Its just a way of buying me some time to clean things up

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Do some damage control? Beau said, smirking. In a way, she said. But Ill come find you, I swear.

Im sure you will, Beau said. Im sure you will. He walked back to Rachels house, not looking back when Beth Ann called him. Ignored her when she said she loved him.

Youre doing the right thing, Rachel told Beau as he packed his clothes. Yeah, well, you know me, Beau said sarcastically. Theres just no other way right now, once you think about it. And I know, deep down inside, that you do care about what happens to Robin. It just makes me mad as hell that Will gets his way. Oh, he doesnt get his way, Rachel said. He just thinks he does. Either way, Beth Anns divorcing him. Well see, Beau said. Or I guess youll see. I wont be seeing anything from Louisiana. Do you really have so little faith in Beth Ann? she asked, her voice soft and motherly. I dont know what to believe, he said. All I know is for the second time in my life, a woman is refusing to let me raise my own child. Youll raise it, she said. Once this all blows over and the babys born, you two will be together. I just know it. I wish I could be so confident, he said.

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Its so obvious that you two love each other. You can just see it. Rachel went to his closet and pulled out his shoes, then handed them to him. Nanna knew it too. We talked about it before she died. You did? Beau said, surprised. She said she knew it from the beginningsaid shed never seen Beth Ann so happy then after shed been with you. Beau sat down on the side of the bed, glancing at the Bible on the nightstand. I never meant to steal anybodys wife or make some little girl so upset that shed Lifes funny, Rachel said. And why we do things are sometimes more important than what we do, I think. Or at least I like to believe it that way. Rachel sat down on the bed next to him and placed her hand on his. Why dont you wait until morning to leave. Ill get up really early, make you a nice breakfast, and pack you some traveling food. Maybe I will, Beau said. Im kind of tired from all the excitement. He smiled, then rubbed his arm. And maybe you should visit next door in a little while and tell a certain young lady how you feel about her. I dont know about that, he said. Come on now. Swallow that LeFoy pride and say what you mean in here. Rachel put her hand to her heart. What do you have to lose? Beau thought about it for a minute.But think of what you stand to gain? Its important to tell somebody you love them when you can. Not only could it be your last

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chance, but the memory of hearing it goes a long wayif you know what I mean. Beau smiled at her then put his arm around her and squeezed. So Ill see you in the morning, then? She nodded then said, Ive never really been good at goodbyes. You arent that good at hellos either, Sister, he said, jokingly. She absentmindedly slapped him on his sore arm. Ill take good care of her while youre gone, Rachel said, patting him on the back. She can take care of herself, Beau said. Just dont let her forget me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE Beth Ann

It is Hopi belief that children renew the life force for the entire groupthat each child is a new chance for survival and redemption. Hopefully, the same can be said in Beaus and my case. We have been given another chance

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in life. He can now compensate for the child that was taken from him, and I can advance to the next level of life. When the baby is born, I will keep her inside until the twentieth day. On that day, Beau and I will wash her hair with the very yucca suds that led to her conception. We will wash her face with sacred corn meal that I will have obtained from Hania. I will invite my mother to be part of the ceremony, since forgiveness is all part of that great cycle, and she will bless our child by gently rubbing her body with a perfect ear of Nannas white corn. Then, as the rising sun appears at the dawning of a new day, we will present our child to the sun for the first time. Wrapped in the suns rays, we will ask the Creator to bless her and forgive her for the sins of her parents. Then, as the sun shines upon our babys face, we will give him or her the name spoken to us both one night as we slept in each others arms.

He found her at the reservoir sitting on the boulder and writing in a journal. Writing about how much you hate me? he said, stepping over the thicket to reach to her. Quite the opposite, she said, softly. Her face was red and swollen, her hair tangled across her shoulders.

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The first time I ever saw you, you were here. She smiled bashfully, then moved over so he could join her. And I dont have to tell you what happened the second time I found you here. He put his arm around her, and she lay her head on his chest. Beau, I He placed his finger over her lips. I dont think we need to talk tonight, he said. He kissed her tenderly on her lips, then on her forehead. I think we need to love each other the best we can. Make some memories that will hold us over, until we see each other again. Which will be soon, she said. He nodded then lifted her shirt over her head. Gently, he kissed her stomach, then whispered into her naval You know me, he said. Im your Daddy.

Robin thought she heard the doorbell, but she dismissed it as her imagination. Her ears had done nothing but ring since she shot that stupid gun. A few minutes later, Lana opened her bedroom door and told her someone was there to see her. Who is it?"

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I promised not to tell, Lana said, smiled, and then closed the door behind her. Robin rushed to locate her shorts and t-shirt. It had to be her father. Who else? She felt a twinge of disappointment, but brushed her hair anyway. Why all the secrecy, she wondered. Probably part of the new and improved family plan. Yesterday, when she had driven her home from the hospital, Lana told Robin that she and her father had talked, and they were going to be better parents if it killed them. Im going to go to outpatient alcohol treatment, she said. And Im gonna get off the bottle for good this time. That way I can still be with you while I get well. Robin had nodded her head, then rolled her eyes when her mother wasnt looking. I mean it, she said. Have I ever agreed to get treatment before? No, Robin said. See! And admitting you have a problem is the hardest part. Together, Honey, we can put this family back together, once and for all. Yeah, it was probably her father there, waiting on her to have some kind of family pep rally, talking about responsibility and how important it is to keep your chin up no matter how bad things get. She shuffled into the hall, not wanting to see him. Hey, Beau said, standing there bigger than life in her living room. I came by to see you. Robin looked around to see where her mother was, wondering how long it would be until she took him from her, offering him coffee and god-knew-what-else.

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Me? she said. I dont see anyone else named Robin around here, he said, smiling that smile. You think we could go outside? Sure, she said, following him. Hows your arm? Good, he said. Really good. Right, she said. Like I really believe that. When they stepped outside onto the carport, she saw that his car was packed. You going somewhere? Beau looked at his car then looked back at her. Yeah. I came to say goodbye. Why? she said. I mean, I know you werent having sex with my mothershe cleared all that up Its not that, he said. Its just time for me to go home. Its cause I shot you isnt it, she said. Youve got to get away from me, or theyll put me in jail. No, Beau said, smiling. Its not like that. Its not funny, she said. I know. Im not laughing. Yes, you are. No, Im just smiling because youre so Freaky? I was going to say cute, but since youre hell bent on telling me what Im thinking and feeling What about school? Arent you still going to be a lawyer?

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I dont think thats what Im cut out to be, he said. Me neither, she said. I never thought you were the lawyer type, but I didnt want to hurt your feelings. So what do you think I should be when I grow up, then? A teacher, she said. And a girls softball coach. Really, he said. You have a way of making things fun to learn. Id learn a lot if I were in your class. Hmm. Beau said. Maybe Ill check it out once I get back to Louisiana. You sure you have to go? She wrote her name in the dirt on the hood of his car. Yep. Will you come back? Maybe, he said. Maybe someday down the road. Itll be boring here without you. Youll get by, he said. Besides, youre anything but boring yourself, Annie Oakley. He smiled at her, then punched her on the arm until he made her smile. Besides, youll be dating soon, and youll forget all about me. Right, she said. Every weekend Ill be fighting them off, using that softball swing you taught me. You will, he said, That is if you quit being so cantankerous, and let them see how wonderful you areunderneath.

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Cantankerous, she said. See, youre already talking like a school teacher. It means quit putting on that angry girl routine, and let people see that Robin I knowthe one that smiles and has that wonderful sense of humorthe one that made me come by here at the crack of dawn to see her. The one that is really special. Youre special too, she said, her voice nearly a whisper. Thank you, he said. But Im not perfect, and I want you to remember that about me. I do things that mayhurt people, but I dont mean to, you know? I know, she said. I do the same thing. Look at your arm, for instance. That was an accident, he said. And I forgive you. Maybe you can do the same for me some day. What do I have to forgive you for? I dont know, he said. But youll think of something. I think that medicine they gave you has weirded you out, she said. Youre talking in code or something. Youll figure it out, he said. And when you do, just remember that everything Im saying right now, I mean. O. kay, she said, puckering her lips and raising her eyebrows. Keep that swing level, he said, swinging an imaginary bat. He hugged her with his good arm and kissed her on her forehead. While the hug felt good, and she wanted him to keep hugging her, she didnt tingle all over this time.

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Maybe after youve shot a person, theres just no way to love them the way you loved them before. Can I write you? she asked him as he got into the car. Sure, he said. But Im not real good at writing back, so dont get your feelings hurt if I only write a line or two. Your address? Rachel will know it, he said. Ask her. Bye, Robin said, as he backed down the drive. He waved to her as he drove away. When he stopped at the stop sign, she noticed that he looked back in his rear-view mirror. She waved again, then walked slowly back into the house. Her therapist (it made her feel grown up to call her that) told her that she should start a different kind of journal; one where she wrote down her feelings every day, beginning each entry with: Today I feel ____________ then fill the blank in with some kind of emotion. Later, in their weekly session, theyd discuss these feelings and what they meant. Robin pulled out the new journal her mother had bought her at K-Mart and began her first entry. August 1. Today I feel special.