The Reckless Oath We Made

After we got on the highway, he laid down and went to sleep. Rosalinda opened her bag and took out a long roll of what looked like belt webbing, with a pattern in it. It reminded me of the trim on the dress Gentry had given me. The dress that was somewhere with his camping stuff in his truck.

“I’m going to work on my weaving, if you don’t mind,” she said. “I’m trying to get a bunch of things ready for the holiday season for my Etsy shop.”

“You have a shop on Etsy?”

“I used to make decent money, but it’s been harder since . . . because I have to borrow my brother’s phone to upload pictures and stuff, and I can’t always get to the post office.”

“You really don’t have a cellphone?”

“It’s money we don’t have. Besides, I’m always at home,” she said. “I didn’t finish college, so I can’t get a regular job. The weaving and some babysitting are the only jobs I’ve ever had.”

“I didn’t go to college.” I didn’t know why she was telling me that stuff, but I thought we could try to have a conversation. “You could always wait tables.”

“I don’t think my dad would like that.”

I was going to ask how old she was, but I didn’t want it to sound like a smart-ass remark. Still, I figured she was old enough to get a job her father didn’t approve of.

We didn’t talk after that, until I saw a red-tailed hawk perched up in the top branches of a pine tree.

“There’s a hawk,” I said to make her look up from her weaving.

“Oh.” That was all she said, but a few miles further, there was one on a road sign past Udall. She pointed and said, “There’s another one.”

That fast we saw another, up on an electrical line, twisting his head around, looking in the grass for something to eat.

“That’s three,” I said.

She folded her weaving up in her lap, and from there on, that was all we said to each other. Four, five, six, seven. To keep track of how many hawks. By the time we reached the pull off for Bryn Carreg, we were up to thirteen, plus three turkey buzzards and a bald eagle fighting over a deer carcass.

In six months, the weeds had grown up around the carport, so the only place to park was the shoulder. We were far enough out in the country I didn’t bother with Leon’s leash. I just opened the back door and let him out. I put my purse in the trunk, and I offered to put Rosalinda’s in, too, but she clutched it to her chest and shook her head.

As I came around the other side of the car, I saw a metal sign half hidden by the weeds. It had a real estate company name and phone number on it. FOR SALE in big red letters. 84 Acres, Pond was painted underneath that.

It made everything worse. Five years Gentry had worked on his castle, and I destroyed it all in a week. Following Rosalinda up the path to Mud Manor, I thought about Gentry carrying the tent ahead of me, inviting me into his life. Look what he got for it.

I’d worried I wouldn’t be able to keep up with Rosalinda, but she had to stop a few times to catch her breath. Leon ran ahead of us, chasing things.

“I don’t miss this hill,” Rosalinda said, panting as we came up the last stretch. The weeds hadn’t taken over Mud Manor, because there was too much shade, but a bunch of vines were climbing up the side of the house. “I still don’t know how Gentry hauled all the construction materials up here.”

“Did he build this, too?”

“Oh, he built this first, so I wouldn’t have to camp out. I mean, Edrard helped, but Gentry did most of the work.”

“That’s nice.”

“It really was. I’m sure it doesn’t look like much to you, but this is my real home,” she said. I thought about Rhys telling me she had a crush on Gentry. I wondered if that was true, or if it was homesickness. Either way, I felt bad for her.

I assumed she’d come to get her things from the house, but she walked around the fire ring and started up the path to the hill of good cell reception. I whistled for Leon and we followed her.

It had been so beautiful in the spring, all green and shimmery. Now the valley was hazy from range burning, and the trees were starting to look bare, but a few still had bright orange leaves. For maybe ten minutes, Rosalinda and I stood on the hill looking down on all those long stretches of brown grass. Then she reached into her purse and pulled out a plastic bag full of gray powder.

“He always said he wanted his heart buried on this hill. His parents acted like I made that up, but his father finally agreed to give me some of his ashes. Maybe part of his heart is in here. Or for all I know, his father gave me a handful of ashes out of their fireplace.”

“How come they decide whether you get his ashes?” I said.

“Oh, we weren’t married. We were only handfasted.”

“I think that counts.” I didn’t actually have an opinion about marriage, but my opinion about Edrard’s parents was they’d acted like assholes to Rosalinda.

“I don’t know what to say,” she said. “The only prayers I know are a bunch of Old Testament stuff Edrard wouldn’t appreciate.”

“You could sing something.”

I was sorry I’d suggested it, because she picked this song that was so fucking sad, she only got partway through it before she cried. After she gave up singing, I helped her untie the knot in the plastic bag. She tested for the wind direction, tipped the bag over, and the breeze scattered the ashes down the side of the hill. Then Leon hiked his leg to the limestone outcropping behind us. Amen.

“I’m going up to the castle, if you want some time to yourself,” I said.

She nodded.

On the way up, I heard something flapping in the wind. The edge of one of the tarps had come loose, so it popped back and forth at the top of the east tower like a blue flag. Someone had cleared out Gentry’s stuff. The only things left were some scaffolding, tumbleweeds, and the bones of a little critter. Leon sniffed it over and hiked his leg to the doorway.

“Quit pissing on everything,” I said, but he gave me the look that was basically a dog shrug. When I went up the steps, the big goof came after me, his claws scrabbling on the stones. About halfway up, he changed his mind and went back down.

At the top of the tower, I had to lean way out to grab the edge of the tarp. Down below me was the whole state of Kansas again. All winter brown, except for those splotches of fire orange. It made my throat tight knowing Gentry might never get to see that view again. I let go of the tarp and took out my phone. Stretching my arm out as far as I could, I took a panoramic picture of as much of the horizon as would fit.

I took one last look for myself, long enough to see Leon trotting down the hill toward the ponds. I called for him and, for the first time, he turned at the sound of his name. I didn’t know anything about tying knots, but I managed to get the tarp fastened. Whether that did any good, I didn’t know, but at least it was done.