The officer was young and slender and had a handlebar mustache—good god, was she stuck in some sort of Hollywood Western?—and he walked to his car and stood watching her approach, hand at his belt. She had to distract him. Get him out of there. The Sea Creature clogged her windpipe but she stopped and rolled down the windows. “Hey,” she said. “You okay here?”
He blinked at her.
“I was out on a hike,” she said cheerfully. “Driving home now. Have a nice evening!” When he said nothing, she shrugged, and started to accelerate when he put up his hand.
“Stop.”
She pressed the brake, tried to look nonchalant. She could see he was taking in her car, both the outside and inside. She resisted the urge to talk; better, in this situation, to stay silent.
“I’d like to see some identification, please.”
She opened and closed her mouth and had the vague sensation she must look like a fish. “I’m Ammalie,” she said, fumbling for her wallet. “Out for a hike. My husband once came here. Dark Sky appreciator. He died. Of a stroke. I brought him water. But he died. I came to…tell him goodbye. It’s a long story.”
He was standing, looking from her driver’s license to her face, but at the mention of Vincent’s death, a softer look indeed came across his face. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, and sounded like he meant it.
A moment of nausea was followed by a brilliant idea that unfolded in her mind. “My car, wow, my car…” She took a deep breath. “My car isn’t well. It actually got broken into in Colorado, at a place called Kenosha Pass, you can look it up, they took my plates, that’s why I don’t have any on right now, and anyway, what my point is, is, that my car is making a clanky sound! Creaky. Maybe you heard it? I don’t suppose you would mind following me out? When you leave? Make sure I make it to the highway, at least? I’m staying at Cave Valley Cabins, which kind of confuses me, because is it a cave or a valley?”
His stance relaxed. “Rita and Rex’s place?”
She smiled. “Yeah, exactly.”
“Valleys have caves in them,” he said, somewhat annoyed. “And I heard your car as you approached.”
She snorted, trying for playful. “Yeah. Very sick. On top of the creak, I’m worried about low oil. Don’t want the engine to blow.”
“So you know John?” he said, nodding at Dart.
Her mind whirred. “John the Dark Sky man from Texas! That’s what I call him.”
A small smile crossed his lips. “Well, John asked me to come check on the place. Somebody saw some activity.”
“Oh?” She kept her voice calm. “If you see any tracks, they’re mine. I’m sorry, but I got curious. I just peeked inside. From the outside, I mean! I didn’t go in! I just, you know, looked in the little window on the door. He said it was okay. John did. Like, I hope I’m not trespassing or something…I just wanted to tell my husband goodbye. It’s a long and complicated story…”
He glanced at the setting sun, then back at her. “Looks quiet enough to me. And there ain’t much to take, or reason to be here. This is as remote as it gets.” He scratched his jaw. “I’m having a day. That storm and all. How about this? How about I drive you back to Rex and Rita’s and you get Bob over at Bob’s Gas and Tow to come tow this tomorrow? Because it doesn’t sound good at all, and yeah, you don’t want to burn your engine up.”
The smile that she gave him was genuine, because her delight was real. While she didn’t look forward to being in the company of the law, another idea had bloomed in her brain. A colorful one. “What a generous thing to offer. Sincerely! If you don’t mind giving me just a minute? I’ll hurry, won’t keep you waiting. I know it’s getting late. I just need one minute to think on what I need from inside my car here.”
But even as she spoke, she was moving fast, sliding the car key off her key ring. She left it in the ignition, jotted a quick note on the back of a crumpled dirty envelope. take the grey goose, love her well, she is yours. various plates under seat. mail there too, so you can find me if you want. undercarriage is going, she won’t last long. She paused. It was against her code of ethics to give out other people’s information, but she also had to trust her instinct. in case of emergency, contact woman with my same first name, last name your stated mission, near the exit. she will be ally. also, thank you for the kiss.
Kat Wilder from Salida.
Then she placed a few bills—she wished she had more, but she was out—on the floorboard, grabbed her backpack, and smiled as she walked toward the man.
As they drove past the rock outcrop, she pointed with enthusiasm in the opposite direction. “Wow! Wowza wow wow, look at that sky, that moon!” Just as she’d hoped, he glanced over, looking at the hanging globe, and as they passed the rocks, she felt her heart leaning toward Kit, who was surely hiding behind them.
When she was delivered back to Cave Valley Cabins—truly, she was grateful—she shuffled off to bed and curled up in a ball, and in that position ate a sandwich she’d prepared and fell asleep before she’d finished it and without bothering to wipe the exhausted and happy tears from her eyes.
—
When Bob the Tow Truck Driver called to say no car was at John’s property, she feigned surprise. What?! My god! Where could the car have gone! I left the key in it for you, but who would steal a car from there?
When Hugh the Deputy called so as to file a missing car report, she went along. Sure it was clunky, but I sure loved that car!
When Rita expressed outrage and confusion, she got closer to a truth: Truly, it was time to donate it to NPR anyway.
When Rex raised an eyebrow, she shrugged and got to her knees to give wiggling Lady the biggest hug of her life. Then she stood and said, “You’ll take good care of her? She’s helped me through a tough time,” and waited for him to nod and say, “Of course, Ammalie. You have my word. And my word for silence too. I don’t know what you’re up to, but it’s likely something I’d support.”
When an email arrived from an unknown email address, she read it three times. Contact made, all safe. She wrote back: I knew Kit Kat bars would be good.
When she listened to a message left by Levi, she closed her eyes and felt the warmth spread across her heart, which ached—no, yearned—to be less alone. “Uhhh, just checking in,” Levi said. “Course, miss seeing you at the restaurant. Just thought I’d inquire. Finally wrangled your number from them. I just thought…I just thought maybe we could talk.”
Levi! Such a strange energy, that joy flooding up her throat, and she found herself touching the dimple where her collarbones met, as if to acknowledge the glowing feeling there. But first, she had to focus. Three important calls had to be made. She sat in Rita’s truck outside the tiny brick library in the nearby town. She could have used the landline back at the office, but she’d wanted privacy.
First, Apricot: Ammalie thanked her sincerely for spending Thanksgiving with Powell and happily listened to the details about that—a nice meal together, a game of Scrabble. In a certain way, Apricot said, it had been sweet to have that time together, with just him, but also, what the hell, when exactly was Ammalie coming home? Ammalie deflected the question and added that she was going to be out of touch, then leapt off the call with a made-up excuse.
Next, Mari: They talked of the twists and turns of a fulfilling life, and how to keep on track for one. Mari ended the call with, “You couldn’t have saved Vincent, but it appears you’ve definitely restructured your life, so, yay! But come home now, it’s time,” to which Ammalie mused, “I met someone recovering from a drug addiction. Someone else with MS. An un-homed man. But mainly, I’ve met myself, and the limits of what I can do. I’ve got to seek a bit more. But I can’t wait to give you a huge hug, and it’ll be sorta soon, I promise.”
She saved Powell’s call for last. He didn’t answer but called back a few minutes later, and she said, “I had to talk to you on Dad’s birthday,” and he said, “I know, me too,” and they both said, “I miss him.” The silence of that truth resonated and he said, “It’s been a minute,” and she said, “We’ll have another ceremony when I’m home,” and he said, “You’re still traveling? Aren’t you coming back? When you said you were leaving, I thought you meant, you know, a normal vacation. Like a week or two. Like a normal person?”
She looked out the window of the truck at the little brick building, and watched the librarian turning a key, locking it up for the day. “I’m adventuring because I need to. I’ll explain, I promise.”
But he was not satisfied. “Mom? What’s going on, Mom? I don’t understand why you’re there, and I’m sorry if I was checked out, but I’m checking in now, because, well, what are you doing? And also, I’m sorry I said those things in our Big Fight, which is what I’m calling it. I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you. Who could hate you? It just came out. I don’t think you’re boring. And I don’t mind you checking on me.”
Tears blurred her eyes. “Thanks, Powell. I mean that.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m on a road trip. Haven’t you ever wanted to go on a road trip? In fact, maybe you should do a big one while you’re out of school. It’s hard to find the time later.”
“Mom, why are you in Arizona, though?”
“Why not Arizona? Because it’s warmer here—well, most of the time! Dad came here. And I needed to do this, to tell him goodbye. There are chollas. And cactus wrens. And coatimundi. And javelinas—”
