The Bean Trees - Barbara Kingsolver [102]
He took both my hands in his. “Nor I you, Taylor.”
“Can you write? Would it be safe, I mean? You could use a fake return address or something.”
“We can send word by way of Mattie. So you will know where we are and what happens to us.”
“I wish that didn’t have to be all.”
“I know.” His black pupils moved back and forth between my eyes.
“But it does, doesn’t it? There’s no way around the hurt, is there? You just have to live with it.”
“Yes. I’m sorry.”
“Estevan, do you understand what happened back there in that office, with Esperanza?”
“Yes.”
“I keep thinking it was a kind of, what would you call it?”
“A catharsis.”
“A catharsis,” I said. “And she seems happy, honest to God, as happy as if she’d really found a safe place to leave Ismene behind. But she’s believing in something that isn’t true. Do you understand what I’m saying? It seems wrong, somehow.”
“Mi’ija, in a world as wrong as this one, all we can do is to make things as right as we can.” He put his hands on my shoulders and kissed me very, very sweetly, and then he turned around and walked into the house.
All four of us had buried someone we loved in Oklahoma.
I called Mama from a pay phone at a Shell station. I dug two handfuls of coins out of my jeans pockets, splayed them out on the metal shelf, and dialed. I was scared to death she would hang up on me. She had every right. I hadn’t said boo to her for almost two months, not even to congratulate her on getting married. She’d written to say they’d had a real nice time at the wedding and that Harland was moving into our house. Up until the wedding he’d always lived in a so-called bachelor apartment, which means a bed plus hot plate plus roach motel in his sock drawer, in back of El-Jay’s Paint and Body.
There was static in the line. “Mama, I’m sorry to bother you,” I said. “I’m just outside of Oklahoma City so I thought I’d give you a ring. It’s a lot closer than Arizona.”
“Is that you? Bless your heart, it is you! I’ll swan. Now weren’t you sweet to call.” She sounded so far away.
“So how’s it going, Mama? How’s married life treating you?”
She lowered her voice. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Either you’ve got a bad cold or you’ve been crying. Your sound’s all up in your head.”
The tears started coming again, and I asked Mama to hang on just a minute. I had to put down the receiver to blow my nose. The one thing Lou Ann hadn’t thought of was that I should have packed two dozen hankies.
When I got on the line again the operator was asking for more coins, so I dropped them in. Mama and I listened to the weird bonging song and didn’t say anything to each other for a little bit.
“I just lost somebody I was in love with,” I finally told her. “I just told him goodbye, and I’m never going to see him again.”
“Well, what did you turn him loose for?” Mama wanted to know. “I never saw you turn loose of nothing you wanted.”
“This is different, Mama. He wasn’t mine to have.”
She was quiet for a minute. We listened to the static playing up and down. It sounded like music from Mars.
“Mama, I feel like, I don’t know what. Like I’ve died.”
“I know. You feel like you’ll never run into another one that’s worth turning your head around for, but you will. You’ll see.”
“No, it’s worse than that. I don’t even care if I ever run into anybody else. I don’t know if I even want to.”
“Well, Taylor honey, that’s the best way to be, is not on the lookout. That way you don’t have to waste your time. Just let it slip up on you while you’re going about your business.”
“I don’t think it will. I feel like I’m too old.”
“Old my foot! Lordy, child, look at me. I’m so far over the hill I can’t call the hogs to follow, and here I am running around getting married like a teenager. It’s just as well you’re not here, you’d have to tell everybody, Don’t pay no mind that