Out resting in the silky hot water watching the ribbons of steam mixing with the fading sunlight. Watching as they rise and collect trapped under the opal canopy of the sloping greenhouse walls. There in the indoor clouds, I tell him a story something from the archives of my childhood.
And when I am done he asks for a small clarification, "Your sister Terri?"
"No," I whisper across the water, "Wendi...."
He leans over placing his thick forearm on my forehead. "You really are still very sick. Maybe you should go in for antibiotics."
"Why do you say that?" I question. I've been allowed to be "still very sick" for 2 weeks.
"Because you never talk about your sister unless you are sick enough to be in trouble."
"No," I brush him off, "I'm not in trouble I'm just tired of fighting..."
"..her hand pointing at the ridge to where a rabbit was standing on 2 feet watching them. Abel laughed startling it. It thumped away turning up a trail of dust and 6 or 7 other rabbits behind it. Each popping and dashing in a different direction. Little explosions of desert fireworks running through the sage.
When the ground settled he looked again to the sun muted valley but the herd had melted back into the desert they came from. What was left was a small grayish coyote with his nose to the ground walking lonely against the sky. Above him a hawk circling the sun.
“It is only dead here if you are,” she whispered..."
Life With Man, mlb