Misplaced (104 page)

“
I
can’
t
d
o
thi
s
alone,
”
sh
e
pleaded
,
th
e
murkines
s
i
n
her
mind still controlling her tongue. “
W
e
’
ll need your help.”

“Ther
e
ar
e
s
o
fe
w
in-bet
w
ee
n
place
s
lef
t
i
n
th
e
world
.
But
e
v
en as I appear to you, I am nothing more than a spirit.”

“Y
ou
’
re real enough now, and you are her guardian.”

D
e
s
p
o
n
d
en
c
e
o
v
er
c
a
m
e
h
i
s
f
e
at
u
re
s
,
and
he
s
h
oo
k
h
i
s
he
ad
.
“Know
this;
what
starts
with
Khara
will
change
the
world.
Y
ou
are her protector now.”

“Me?
”
sh
e
protested
,
bu
t
ther
e
w
a
s
n
o
arguin
g
wit
h
hi
s
expression
.
Gradually
,
hi
s
fac
e
bega
n
t
o
shimme
r
lightl
y
like
mercur
y,
an
d
i
t
shif
t
e
d
sli
g
h
t
l
y
to
t
h
e
lef
t
to
re
v
ea
l
t
ha
t
Be
n
w
a
s
stil
l
underneath
.
V
ictori
a
trie
d
t
o
detai
n
th
e
departin
g
vision.
“
W
ait! Don’t lea
v
e!”

Ben
collapsed
into
her
arms
like
a
punctured
balloon,
and
there
w
as
nothing
to
do
but
guide
his
limp
body
to
the
ground
and
pray
that
he
w
as
still
ali
v
e.
She
listened
for
a
heartbeat;
it
w
as
there,
though
not
as
strong
as
she
would
ha
v
e
liked.
But
what
did
she
know
about
heartbeats?
Briefly,
V
ictoria
thought
abou
t
draggin
g
hi
m
bac
k
t
o
th
e
others
,
bu
t
ho
w
coul
d
she
explain what had happened? Something urged her to
w
ait. For
someone
who
had
just
spoken
with
an
ominous
spirit,
she
felt
strangely calm.

On
c
e
,
realit
y
ha
d
bee
n
bla
c
k
an
d
white
.
B
u
t
now
,
a
s
s
he
pondered
Nando
r
’s
words,
e
v
erything
had
become
gradations
o
f
grey
.
Sh
e
an
d
Be
n
seeme
d
suspende
d
half
w
a
y
bet
w
een
hea
v
en
and
earth.
Hazing
up
w
ard,
she
saw
that
the
midnight—
blu
e
sk
y
w
a
s
fading
;
the
y
w
er
e
half
w
a
y
bet
w
ee
n
nigh
t
an
d
day.
Althoug
h
Khar
a
ha
d
recounte
d
th
e
stor
y
o
f
Nando
r
’
s
death,
h
e
ha
d
appeare
d
a
t
leas
t
twic
e
now
.
H
e
w
a
s
no
t
dead
,
but
not
ali
v
e
enough
to
help
them.
She
remembered
her
mothe
r
’s
image
,
s
o
close
,
s
o
rea
l
i
n
th
e
mirro
r
tha
t
day
.
W
a
s
sh
e
tra
v
eling
the road to insanity?

He
r
han
d
w
a
s
stil
l
restin
g
o
n
Ben’
s
ches
t
whe
n
h
e
sa
t
u
p
,
mystified
,
a
fe
w
minute
s
later
.
“Wha
t
ar
e
yo
u
doing?”

All of a sudden you
w
ere—do you feel all right?”

Hell,
”
h
e
spat
,
“you
’
r
e
th
e
on
e
drinkin
g
mescal.
”
H
e
dusted
off
his boots and rose gingerly.

“Remember anything?”

Ben
shook
his
head.
“I
probably
shouldn’t
be
smoking
that
stuff
at
my
age.”
He
rubbed
his
shins.
“Hey,
did
you
kick
me?”

She
didn’t
ans
w
er
and
wondered
if
she
w
as
still
just
a
little
high.
V
ictoria
resol
v
ed
that
the
Mescalero’s
drink
had
conjured
he
r
apparition—nothin
g
else
.
Sh
e
ros
e
wit
h
th
e
nee
d
t
o
join
others,
the
ground
rolling
beneath
her
feet
as
she
staggered
out
of the shelter.

Chapte
r
Thirty-eight
Cele
s
t
e

Lik
e
a cat hearing a lizard stir in a nearby bush, Celeste’s
attentio
n
shifte
d
abruptly
.
Ha
d
i
t
bee
n
daytime
,
sh
e
could
ha
v
e
seen
the
bare
spot
in
the
trees
that
signaled
the
direction of
her
farm.
She
touched
her
index
finger
to
her
forehead
and questioned,
Carl, is that you?

On
e
o
f
th
e
b
es
t
t
hing
s
a
b
ou
t
he
r
carefull
y
culti
v
a
t
e
d
imag
e
as
the crazy white woman who talked to cats
w
as that it liberated
he
r
fro
m
con
v
entiona
l
code
s
o
f
conduct
.
P
eopl
e
w
eren’
t surprised when she suddenly got up to lea
v
e a gathering with
suc
h
explanation
s
as
,
“
I
promise
d
Kingsfor
d
Charcoa
l
w
e
’
d
w
atch the late show.”
P
eople would raise their e
y
ebrows and
n
o
d
thei
r
hea
ds
,
an
d
w
he
n
som
e
o
n
e
ga
v
e
he
r a
patr
o
nizing
glanc
e
an
d
patte
d
he
r
ar
m
saying
,
“Bu
t
o
f
course
,
dear,
”
she
w
as secretly delighted. For Celeste, crazier
w
as al
w
ays better.

The last time she
’
d felt her husband’s presence this clearly
ha
d
bee
n
durin
g a
snowstor
m
i
n
1993
.
Sh
e
remembere
d
the
feelin
g
exactl
y
an
d
relishe
d
th
e
imag
e
o
f
hi
m
i
n
a
pol
o
shir
t
and
jodhpurs
.
E
v
e
n
afte
r
he
’
d
sha
v
e
d
an
d
sho
w
ered
,
th
e
scen
t
of
leather clung steadfastly to his skin.

O
n
thi
s
night
,
surrounde
d
b
y
pin
e
trees
,
Celest
e
became
increasingl
y
intoxicate
d
b
y
th
e
sam
e
smell
.
A
s
thoug
h
i
n
a
trance,
she
made
a
few
excuses before
beginning
the
long
w
alk
t
o
th
e
Jeep
,
an
d
sh
e
aske
d
tha
t
someon
e
b
e
kin
d
enoug
h
to
make
sure
the
girls
got
back
to
the
farm.
Salt
of
the
earth
that
th
e
Mescaler
o
w
ere
,
thre
e
wome
n
insiste
d
o
n
accompanying
her
.
Alon
g
th
e
w
ay
,
sh
e
entertaine
d
the
m
wit
h
a
stor
y
about
ho
w
she
’
d
ha
d
som
e
pesk
y
raccoon
s
caugh
t
an
d
relocate
d
t
o
Big
Bear
Lake
in
California.
It
had
cost
her
a
few
hundred
dollars
apiece,
but
had
been
worth
e
v
ery
penny.
The
women
ho
w
led
with
laughter
and
told
her
that,
for
half
the
price,
they
would
ha
v
e turned them into a fine
stew.

As
soon
as
she
turned
off
the
main
road
and
onto
the
gra
v
el
o
f
th
e
Square-4
Ranch
,
w
a
v
e
s
o
f
anticipatio
n
rushe
d
through
her
body
and
settled
in
her
right
leg.
Compressed
ner
v
es
had
lon
g
ag
o
pre
v
ente
d
an
y
sensation—th
e
resul
t
o
f
a
botched
surgery—but tonight it tingled delightfully.

Wheezin
g
an
d
breathless
,
sh
e
entere
d
th
e
mai
n
house
throug
h
th
e
bac
k
door
,
droppin
g
he
r
key
s
o
n
th
e
counter.
From
a
nearby
dra
w
er
she
withdrew
an
en
v
elope.
After
sealing
it
,
sh
e
pu
t
i
t
i
n
he
r
coa
t
pocket
.
Sh
e
lef
t
th
e
light
s
of
f
and
calle
d
t
o
Shamrock
,
wh
o
arri
v
e
d
i
n
a
momen
t
an
d
stretched
b
efor
e
p
laci
n
g
he
r
hea
d
u
n
de
r
he
r
mis
t
ress’
s
hand
.
“Com
e
on
.
Y
ou
’
r
e
sleepin
g
i
n
th
e
cabi
n
tonight.
”
Emm
a
an
d
General
Le
e
accompanie
d
thei
r
mistres
s
i
n
a
slo
w
processio
n
across
th
e
y
ar
d
unti
l
Emm
a
rushe
d
ahea
d
an
d
ou
t
o
f
sight
.
Celeste
opened the cabin door and stepped inside, where she remo
v
ed
th
e
en
v
elop
e
fro
m
he
r
pocke
t
an
d
lai
d
i
t
o
n
to
p
o
f
th
e
stereo
consol
e
alon
g
wit
h
th
e
key
s
t
o
th
e
Jeep
.
Sh
e
lingered
,
smiling
,
at
th
e
cross-stitche
d
sample
r
an
d
photos—th
e
remnant
s
o
f
he
r
life.
Shamroc
k
sho
v
e
d
a
pa
w
int
o
he
r
hand
.
“No
w
yo
u
kee
p
th
e
cats
company
and
don’t
make
a
fuss,”
she
said
tenderly,
bending
to
kiss the dog’s head.