CHAPTER 65

“We’re almost there,” I say.

We’ve passed the date farm and the ghost towns. We’re almost to Ruth Setmire’s house.

“This is … weird,” Dre said when I told her about Ruth Setmire and how she made me promise to come back and tell her what I’d learned about myself. Then she laughed. “I mean, when I used to ask you what the hell you and Seth got up to … I didn’t think it was visiting little old ladies.”

“Don’t let Ruth hear you call her that,” I said. “She’s fierce. Also old ladies can be fun,” I add, thinking of the women at the care home.

“Does she know we’re coming?” Dre asks now.

I shake my head. “She didn’t know last time either.”

“What if she isn’t there?”

“She’ll be there,” I say, with more confidence than I feel. She has to be. “She asked us to come back.”

“So … is she expecting … Seth? Is she going to be confused when you rock up with a hot Mexican babe instead of an ugly white guy?”

I laugh and elbow Dre. “Andrea!”

“What? It’s true. I’m hot and Seth’s … not. No matter what you say. Or Libby. Speaking of. Who knew she would be such a snake?”

I shrug. “Probably should have seen it coming.” Then I recognize the street we’re on. “Oh, turn in here. I’ll buzz.”

“Is that Gloria’s granddaughter?” Ruth’s voice crackles through the intercom. “Well, I’ll be… You came back!”

“A deal is a deal,” I say.

Ruth’s living room is littered with cards and unopened boxes and flowers. “It was my eighty-eighth birthday last week,” she says.

“Looks like you got spoiled,” I say, reading the card on a bouquet of a dozen red roses. I make a mental note of the date for next year.

“Oh, those are from my nieces who live out in New York.” Then she cackles. “I think they can’t stand it that I’m still around and kicking. They wanna know what is in my will! Or, I should say, who!” She winks at us. “Little do they know I plan on living for ever.”

Dre nods. “Sounds like a good plan. I’m Andrea, by the way. I’m a friend of Reiko’s.”

“Last time she was here she was with a ‘friend’ too,” says Ruth, putting the word in air quotations. “What happened to him?”

“We’re not friends anymore. And I don’t know if we ever really were,” I say, and it is the simplest and the hardest truth for me to say.

“Ah, I see,” says Ruth. “Well, I’d say that’s a shame, but I don’t think it is.”

“That is some dope wisdom,” says Dre, nodding approvingly.

“You don’t live to be my age without getting a little bit wise,” says Ruth. Then she gives us a wicked grin. “You either get wisdom or you lose your marbles. Now come sit down, we’ve got a lot to talk about.”

Ruth is just as vibrant and irreverent as I remember her, but even in the past few months I can see she’s aged. For all her big talk about living for ever, she seems older, and more fragile.

She takes us out to see her studio. It is in what must have once been a garage. There is a huge kiln in the corner and a fine coating of dust on everything. One whole wall is covered with easels, and the other has shelves and shelves of pottery.

“Did your mama ever spot the difference in the eagles?” Ruth says.

I shake my head. “I don’t think so. Thank you again for that.”

“It wasn’t a gift, remember? It was a loan. A conditional loan. You’ve got to show me how you’ve grown.” Her eyes are bright.

“Whoa,” whispers Dre. “This is some deep shit.”

“Deep shit is right!” Ruth declares. “Now go on, Reiko.”

“I guess, I want to live my best life, but for me. Not for anybody else.”

Ruth is beaming. “That sounds pretty good, my girl. I think you’ve earned that eagle. So what do you think of my studio? I don’t use it much anymore. My hands aren’t what they used to be. But this is where I used to make everything. Where I made the eagle.” She shows us various pieces and tells us when she made them, and why. Andrea is fascinated.

“Dre, I didn’t know you were so interested in art,” I say.

“This one has an artist’s soul, I can tell,” says Ruth.

Dre glows.

I smile at her, but part of me is jealous. I want an artist’s soul.

“And you” − Ruth turns to me, as if I’d spoken my uncharitable thoughts out loud − “you have a wandering soul.”

I shake my head. “No, I don’t … I don’t like to travel.” Swimming in my pool is one thing. Flying across a wide open ocean is another.

“I don’t believe that for a second,” says Ruth. “You need to spread these wings of yours and fly. For you, you hear me? Not for anyone else. I’ll do another deal with you,” she goes on. “Both of you, pick out something from my shelves. Another loan. Then come back in a year, and you” − she looks at Andrea − “tell me what kind of art you’ve made. And you” − her eyes dart back to me − “tell me how you’ve flown.”

“Ruth, we couldn’t take something from you,” I protest. “You’ve already been so kind, and the eagle was a unique circumstance.”

“And it worked, didn’t it! Look at you! And don’t tell me what to do. I’m eighty-eight and I’ll do what I want and what I want is to make a bargain with you two. What do you say?”

I look at Dre, who smiles and nods.

“I say, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Damn right I do! And I think I’m getting the better end of the bargain. It does my old soul good to see Gloria’s granddaughter. So if I have to use a little bribery, well, I’m not above it. The stuff in here” − she waves her arms around − “it’s just collecting dust. I like knowing that it has a new home. Especially if it means I’ll get a guaranteed visitor. One I actually like, mind you!”

My eyes prickle unexpectedly and I lean over and kiss Ruth on her papery cheek. “It isn’t bribery. We’d come see you anyway,” I say, but Ruth is shaking her head.

“I don’t need charity, but what we’ve got here is a deal. Now come on, pick something out and hit the road so I can go to sleep. It’s past my bedtime.”

Dre picks out a tiny wolf, frozen in mid-howl.

I find a small cactus, recreated in perfect detail. It even has a little owl hidden in a hollow.

“Now you’ve got a little piece of the desert you can take with you wherever you go,” says Ruth, pressing the cactus into my hand.