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By Root 1498 0

a rugged hour, they made it to the southeastern face of Tsankawi and sat with legs dangling over a five-hundred-foot plunge. The world lay literally at their feet. Marcos named from north to south the faraway summits of the Sangres. “Jicarilla, Sheepshead, then Truchas and Sierra Mosca, West Pecos Baldy and Capulin,” between which lay Nambé, due east. She listened intently to these beautiful names, leaning into Marcos, her arm over his shoulder as if to protect him from herself. Given the stark transcendence of this place and his deep love for it, Franny began to lose her nerve about discussing a future for them elsewhere. She never felt so alone with Marcos before, and though she liked the abundance of this world of his, its natural dignity, she had to wonder how and if she could ever fit into it. Still, she had to try to say something.

“You remember when I came out to Pajarito that first time and you were asking me about my plans for the future?”

“Sure.”

“How I said that once I saved enough money, I wanted to go overseas, just anywhere far away? Timbuktu, I think I said.”

“I remember. You bought tickets without telling me?”

She smiled. “No. Besides, I don’t think I care about flying around the world anymore.”

“Why bother when you’re sitting on top of it right here?”

“That’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Sitting on top of the world?”

“You know how devoted I am to my acting.”

“Why shouldn’t you be? You’re good.”

“Well, I was talking with the director of the company and he said the only way for me to get ahead, really excel, is to go out to the Coast.”

“Coast.”

“You know, West Coast.”

“Hollywood.”

“That’s where all the real actors are, the dedicated ones. There and New York. Why swim in a small pond when there’s a great big world out there just waiting?”

“So we’ll go to California, if that would help you.”

“Marcos, you’ll meet more powerful people in your field, too,” Franny said, her heart leaping, hardly believing her ears.

She needn’t have doubted, since Marcos went on to say that while it wouldn’t be easy, he could hire some outside help to keep the stables going for a month, maybe more. The regionals had taken him all over the West, but he’d never been to California. Would they need to be out there longer than that?

“Probably, well, I’m not sure.” Insane of her to ask such a thing of him. What was she going to do? “Thank you, Marcos,” she said, hiding her profound disappointment.

“For what?”

“For being such a good man.” Kissing him, she noticed out of the corner of her eye a pottery shard—there were many along the path—and pulled away to pick it up. Simple black design on an ivory field, last touched, probably, by one who had used it for carrying water up to the pueblo from a nearby canyon.

“Here,” and gave it to him. “For good luck and protection always.”

In the aftermath of Tsankawi and the feelings it stirred in Franny and Marcos, who made love in one of the cliff houses at the easternmost brim of the trail, the drive to the convalescent center was marked by streaming stillness. Marcos drove with one hand, the other resting in Franny’s. He sensed something had changed between them, but not knowing what it possibly could be, kept the intuition to himself. They parked on the perimeter of Acid Rock and were greeted by Sarah, who took them to the glassed atrium where Kip and Clifford sat together, talking, pointing at exotics in the new aquarium.

“Clifford?”

He turned his face toward the three who stood there, his eyes not leaving the world of the saltwater tank, and in particular a small spotted blue shark that cruised it with undulating authority.

“Clifford, I’d like to introduce you to my son, Marcos, and his friend Franny Johnson.”

“Good to know you,” Clifford said, his eyes darting from the aquarium to the others and quickly back.

“Hello, Clifford,” Marcos said, stepping forward and taking his hand, gently shaking it.

“Oh, yes, hello.”

Now Clifford did look at Marcos, who smiled at him. Clifford peeked over at Kip as if to ask whether he was supposed to return the smile.