Out There: a novel Read Free Page B

into his head, but that was impossible in the car, so instead he closed his eyes and prayed. As Esco gunned the Corolla up the long rise, he visualized his fingers gripping the stones by the road, his feet waving to the ravens.
    Nigel tapped him on the shoulder. “You prayin’, cousin?” His big head was too close.
    “Sorta,” Jefferson replied, his eyes slits.
    Nigel got the message, withdrawing his head and sitting back.
    Jefferson closed his eyes and summoned back the place where his hands traveled through the rough scrabble along the highway, thought about needing a dog and wanting a dog and how Esco and Nigel had to understand this.
    The Corolla crested the top of La Bajada Hill, and Jefferson knew the timing would not get any better. Esco and Nigel might be tired and ready to get home, but at that moment they were also the least likely people in the world to say no to anything his heart desired.
    He cleared his throat. “Do you think we could stop at the animal shelter on the way home, Esco? I’m hoping to get a dog—a puppy, really. I’m thinking a sweet puppy with an old soul to keep me company now that I’m home. You know, to listen.” Jefferson stopped, not knowing what else to say.
    Esco seemed to force a smile, and Nigel said, “We can do whatever you need us to, cousin,” and so they drove to the animal shelter. It was twenty-five minutes before closing time, and there were background investigations and forty-eight-hour waits and fees to be paid. But the volunteer on duty had lost her lover in Vietnam, and she looked upon Jefferson with a pure and heroic love as he explained his need for a dog, and escorted him through the kennels until he settled on the pup of his visions, a gray-eyed blue heeler that had some oddly comforting measure of hound in her bold voice.
    He named her Remedios the Pup, after Remedios the Beauty in One Hundred Years , who was said to be wise beyond her years and of a beauty so intense as to drive men to insanity. Nigel, not understanding the reference, said of the pup, “Well, she is a very pretty girl,” and Esco just clicked her tongue in approval.
    Once they got home, Jefferson nestled Remedios in soft towels on his bed. No one slept much that night because of her various needs and insecurities. Esco stationed herself on a cot at Jefferson’s feet, and Nigel slept in his sleeping bag on the floor. They were not taking any chances with Jefferson’s safety, they told him. Though they were sure he was okay and the pup would be his guardian angel, they’d still sleep better right there with him.

5
    Over the next few days Esco found herself unable to settle. She stood behind the counter as Jefferson ate his tofu breakfast burritos, filling small bowls with cashews and Cheetos and raisins, dusting the tile mosaic of Our Lady of Guadalupe over the stove, sitting on her stool with her book, pretending to read but unable to track the words along the page. She had so many questions she wasn’t brave enough to ask out loud. When would he tell her how he really was? When would the stories from over there begin to come out of him? And what was he carrying strapped to his chest, under his shirt? She’d noticed the bulk of it when they hugged at the airport, but she hadn’t said anything, waiting for a better time.
    And what had happened to his voice? Aside from a few words of greeting at the airport and his request to stop by the animal shelter on the ride home, she had only heard Jefferson baby-talking to little Remedios the Pup and singing late at night in the bathroom. He hadn’t mentioned the new turquoise paint on the kitchen cabinets. And had he forgotten the garden behind the house? She’d thought he would go straight back there.
     
    Jefferson found himself wanting to recite again—that dry anxiety forming in his throat, that thirst for the words—but he took another bite of his burrito instead. The night before, he’d taken the book out in the bathroom before