First in Time
Chapter One: Someplace Better
“Tears are a river that takes you somewhere…Tears lift your boat off the rocks, off dry ground, carrying it downriver to someplace better.” - Clarissa Pinkola Estés
Bossman Says
In an undernourished moon glow, two men shambled to a spot along a narrow shallow canal carrying tools. The canal ran low along the banks of an alfalfa field on one side. On the opposite side, it was open and dry with sparse scrub brush, sage and cottonwood grew haphazardly, wild and untouched. On the field-side, green protein-rich alfalfa shoots poked through the cracked dirt. The hay would cut, bailed, stacked and then trucked-off bound for other fields in other towns. Someone’s cattle would chomp on this Weldon-grown hay at feeding time.
The men examined the vacant area and then looked at each other. One shrugged. The other shook his head. Using hefty pick axes the men swung over and over at the dry side of the canal until they broke through the tangle of tree limbs, mats of composting leaves and twisted weeds. It was backbreaking work, not helped by the dimming light of dusk. It took an hour, more or less, to accomplish the task. Their shoulders ached. One of the men suggested this work wasn’t exactly what he thought he’d be doing when he signed on. The other man grunted, turned his craggy, thin face away and shrugged again. He didn’t question things like this young hand did. He just did what Boss-man told him to. Otherwise, it was none of his concern.
A trickle of water departed its mother flow and headed into the small new opening, pooling as it waited to be absorbed by the dry, hard earth. The rest of the gushing water flowed on like a thick brown ribbon through its original canal unfazed by this debasement. Where the water leaked into a dry patch of land it grew momentarily muddy. The men walked away. They said nothing, nor did they look back.
After all it was just water.
Out the window, the country seemed to race by. A thin river flowed through unknown lands, mountains rose up, and then the plane, like a dagger finding its target, thrust down. From inside, Nina Strauss loved taking it all in, the change in terrain and topography, the rural expanses, the cities that formed suddenly, the mountains reaching toward her, and then rushing closer as the plane landed with a soft bounce and squeal of brakes.
After disembarking at the Reno-Tahoe International Airport, Nina looked around, eyeing the newly renovated terminal like a voyager on unknown seas. She headed outside, shaking herself back to life. It had been a long flight.
She had no idea where the late afternoon’s flow would take her other than the ranch, where she’d grown up, and where her parents, Jim and Tracy Lyn, still lived. As she pulled herself together, she anticipated only the sure ride of a predictable current, on a well-traveled road.
The high, hazy afternoon light outside blinded her at first. She peered into the car-clogged ‘Arrivals’ area. Pulling her oversized tortoiseshell shades from her pocket, she slipped them on, catching her nose on the way. Her arms were full. Somehow, she’d over-packed again. Slung over one of her slim shoulders was her hefty black leather purse, along with an ancient khaki trench coat. It was cold and damp when she left her New York City apartment at five o’clock that morning. As she stepped onto the sidewalk in front of the baggage claim area, blinking lights of a car idling at the curb drew Nina’s attention.
“Yoo-hooo, Nina. Over here,” came a high-pitched, shrill command.
Aunt Mimi. In all her glory. Nina took a deep breath and forged on.
Nina pulled her suitcase behind her. She’d been flying all day from New York’s chaotic LaGuardia airport, to Chicago’s unruly O’Hare, and finally to Reno’s airport planted in a high, narrow valley of desert mountains. She’d noshed on a bagel in New York, slept curled up in an unused massage chair during her three-hour layover in Chicago, and finally broke down by ordering a screwdriver on the last flight. Long day.
Waving from the baby blue Lexus SUV were Dave Furlong, her mother’s brother and his wife, Mimi. as Nina slid gratefully into the backseat, Mimi turned partially towards her. Nina noticed the smell of car leather, mixed with a cloying sweet perfume that didn’t seem to be doing its job very well. A dark, Basque beauty, Aunt Mimi had a luscious, thick mane of tangled dark hair; beautiful widely spaced blue eyes; and excessive body odor. Uncle Dave was thin and pale, like a cornstalk devoid of color. She always thought of them as Jack Spratt, and his wife, who ate all the fat.
“Nini!” Mimi’s welcoming bright smile turned down in an instant. “You are a sight. Didn’t you have any time to freshen up? Poor baby. Such a long way to come, and no time to pull yourself together. We’d have waited.”
“Freshen...?” Nina trailed off, her eyes seeking out her uncle’s. When Mimi’s phone pinged, she peered intently at the screen.
Dave leaned over the back of the seat, to give Nina a peck on the check, simultaneously yanking her bag into the seat next to her.
“Lookin’ good, kiddo,” he grinned. “Got your car ready at home, gassed up for you too. Long way from home to home, huh? Good flight?”
“Thanks so much for picking me up,” Nina said settling in, attempted a smile. “Miserable flight, second leg anyway. Some crazy woman insisted on switching seats but left her bag under the seat in front of me, so I had no place for my feet. And then when we landed she grabbed it out even though I still was sitting down. Pretty sure I have little wheelie tracks on my feet.”
People’s flight stories were only good within the first half hour. After that, forget it. Sympathetic as always, her uncle muttered, “Golly. People.”
“Why didn’t you stand up for yourself?” Mimi said, while reading a text on her phone. She looked back and shook her head. “Really, Nina. People like that should be shot.”
Nina laughed, wishing that sometimes she had her aunt’s ability to view the world in black and white.
“She was anxious. Something about her mother being sick. I was too tired to argue.”
“Never mind that now. You hungry?” Dave said, smiling at her through the rear-view mirror as he pointed the car towards downtown. Mimi tapped out a message on her phone.
“Not so much, but I could use a tea to wake me up.”
Or splash some water on my face. Freshen up as Mimi had suggested. The little dig was typical of her aunt.
“There’s a Starbucks on the way out, on Virginia,” Mimi said, as she hit send again on her phone. “Or you could just stay the night. Why drive all the way now when you’re tired? Uncle Dave will take us out to dinner later, won’t you, Dave? And then we can catch up properly. Just stay.”
Mimi pouted prettily. “We have such a nice guest room, now that I gave all Lauren’s stuffed animals to the animal shelter to use as pet toys.”
Nina considered her aunt’s proposition for a split second. Oh, to sleep, to be taken out, wined and dined, and pampered. But she hadn’t flown across the country for that.
“So, tempting, but Pop’s expecting me, and I can’t wait to surprise Tracy Lyn.”
“She doesn’t know you’re coming?” Mimi asked. “Surprises are so ... surprising!” She laughed hysterically at her meek wit. “Hope she enjoys the big one on Saturday.”
“Good thing I didn’t say anything to her,” Dave chuckled. Nina hoped he was telling the truth. But her uncle was nothing if not honest and straightforward. Like a park bench on a sunny day, he felt all welcoming and warm.
“I just wish I had more energy. Why is traveling so exhausting? You just sit there for hours being carted like cattle across the sky. Mooooo.”
Dave laughed. “I’ll make you some tea when we get home, send you on your way with one of our to-go cups. No need for you to make any extra stops. I know how anxious you must be to get home.”
“You can return that cup to us on Saturday,” Mimi whirled to face Nina in the back seat again. “So, how is my home-away-from-home? New York City, my spiritual homeland.”
The way she said it, with an emphasis on each word as though there was a period after each, made Nina’s teeth hurt for some reason. Never once in the decade in which she’d lived in Manhattan had Mimi even visited. It came off as possessiveness about a city never actually visited, like wearing a Yankee cap when you’ve never been east of the Mississippi. It seemed to Nina that Mimi considered herself not so much a native Nevadanbut an Upper East Side powerbroker with friends in high places and a closet full of couture fashion.
“It’s all good,” Nina said sweetly. “Noisy and alive. Certainly, missing your good cheer and energy.”
Mimi beamed.
“I can’t wait to see Tracy Lyn, Saturday, too,” Mimi said. “She’ll be shocked out of her panties. Nothing much happens out there. I should know. I just keep telling her, ‘It’s time to move to Reno.’ Have some fun in your later years. You know. Kick up your heels.”
Dave snorted and gave his wife some unexpected side-eye.
“Kick up her heels? Who are you talking about? My sister and Jim? They just love living out at the ranch. Why, they’re the original cozy couple. And hey, she’s only turning 60. Hardly later years, is it, Nina?”
Nina agreed, but she kept it to herself, though a small snort escaped from her nose before she could stop herself.
Mimi tossed her hair at Dave before turning again and smiling wickedly at Nina.
“I do wish you’d stay with us a night. I miss seeing my girls. Lauren never comes home anymore.”
Mimi looked like a girl whose request for a new doll was refused. Nina thought back to the years of sleepovers in Reno with her cousins. Their life had seemed glamorous compared to her ranch life in Weldon. Dinners in restaurants with waiters, not at counters. The sneaked sips of wine when Uncle Dave wasn’t looking. Long, late-night talks under the bed covers. She and Lauren had been close, then, but had lost touch years ago. She couldn’t remember why anymore. Maybe she never really knew. She would have been tempted to stay if Lauren were there. She was fond of her relatives’ house the way one is of any place long in the family. It seemed to hold all the nostalgia and tradition associated with a family. Indeed, the smells and sights of Mimi and Dave’s house were as familiar to her as her own home. It was the vault of all collective memories. Without it, the past disappeared into the ether. She knew she was too attached, but her nostalgia for the West and in particular, Nevada was as strong as ever.
The house was tucked into old growth trees up a short gravel driveway that twisted through a mass of shrubs onto a small rise. All around them were newer homes but the house had a certain old-world charm that Nina still loved.
In the driveway, tucked under one of those hefty-sized shrubs, she spied her old beater. Purchased in California from an old hippie while she was still in college more than a decade earlier, the Volvo wouldn’t hold up on a drive back east, but it could surely handle the hour drive south to the ranch. It had been sitting at Dave and Mimi’s house since the last time she was home. Convenient and familiar. Just what she needed.
After splashing water on her face and accepting a steamy cup of green tea for the drive, Nina settled into the springy front seat, adjusted her wrinkled traveling clothes, and popped an old CD into the player. Soon, the Dixie Chicks crooning “Cowboy Take Me Away” blasted out of the old sound system, as she meandered through Reno and south onto Highway 395. After leaving the city proper, the vista opened. To the west, the Sierra Nevada Range rose up towards Lake Tahoe, that blue gem high in the mountains. To the east, soft, dry hills spread long and far, undulating in a seemingly endless wave straight back the way she’d flown. Quirky, old, historical Virginia City lay miles away in those hills. She looked west where the Sierra Nevadas rose into the setting sun. Lovely.
Nina handily passed both a sporty convertible and a truck, surprised that her Volvo still had the oomph. Inside the convertible, a woman with bottle-blonde hair had been checking her rear-view mirror while her shellacked blood red nails played a tune on her chin. Nina realized the driver was hopelessly stuck behind the truck with no idea how to maneuver passing it.
She let the Volvo have its head. Just one more leg left to go before Weldon.
Coming home for her mother’s birthday meant more than a quick vacation. It was, she hoped, a chance to reconnect with her mother, who’d grown silent over the past year. Though a bit out of sight, out of mind, Tracy Lyn’s unusual silence had been a disappointment that niggled the back of Nina’s mind. When her father called to offer a plane ticket home, she knew his concern about her mother was as acute as her own. She accepted immediately.
Anticipating her mother’s face, Nina’s stomach fluttered with a little adrenaline rush. She imagined them settling in for dinner, opening a bottle of wine, dishing out the food.
Like a flowing river, she pushed ahead south, before forking east towards McDower Valley where the tiny towns of Ramsey and Weldon lay. She wound through hills and a long flat valley before dipping down into a larger valley that opened like a wide soup dish, with patches of neatly aligned green fields dotting the landscape.
As she snaked through the hamlet of Ramsey, Nina decided to take a shortcut along the dirt road that bisected Bob Wendover’s garlic fields. The air was pungent with the stuff. The sun was setting behind the hills to the west. At the end of the dirt road, she turned left and made her way along the west side of Ronnie Karnes’ ranch. Switching off the music and opening the windows, she took in the clean air and utter silence.
When she was younger, Nina would speed along these dirt roads at night, car lights turned off, basking in the flow of silence.
Nina thought back to her father’s phone call last month. She’d been out with Andy and some friends at The Crosby Street Bar in Soho, where the streets were narrow, and despite the distinct feeling of living in the moment, there was history in the very pavement on which she walked. She was slightly tipsy, as she walked and talked on the phone with him.
“It’s her 60th birthday, Neen.”
“I know, Pop. I’ve been trying to think of what to get her. A scarf maybe?” She shook her head though he couldn’t see her. “Right. That just seems so trite.”
Jim had laughed.
“Ahem….um…I’ve got a better idea, darlin’. Surprise her...show up at the ranch. It’s been more than a year.”
“Just come out, you mean? Without discussing it all with her. Preparing her?”
“Yup darlin’. Just like that. Tracy Lyn needs a lift. She’s barely here anymore. I need her to wake up and be present again. You, showing up, would be like a breath of fresh air.”
“More like a pail of cold water!” Nina laughed.
And now she was only minutes away. Happy she’d taken him up on the offer, she breathed deeply. And then, as though an unseen arm reached in to direct her, she stopped along the side of the road just to listen to the quiet and breathe even more deeply the sage-scented air so ubiquitous in Nevada.
Standing alongside her purring and popping Volvo, she stretched, inhaled, and saluted the slivered moon. As she turned to take in the view from all sides, a loud crash startled her. Walking into the middle of the road she peered all around. The scrabble of tangled cottonwoods looked deathly, like the witchy trees in the Wizard of Oz. They so frightened her as a child that Ben would hold her hand when they walked along this very road. She felt the shadow of his sturdy boy hand in hers now. And then it was gone, and she sensed movement coming from beyond the tall old cottonwood trees. The grove of trees was bent and ghostly, just the property line between Rafter Hooting Owl, her family’s place, and the Karnes’ ranch. Nothing much existed in the empty in-between land.
But then she heard more noise. Screeching brakes. A man calling out. Nina left the car and walked forward on the dirt road about 25 yards. Instinct told her to keep out of sight. Feeling a little foolish, she tucked into a patch of trees and waited. A few minutes later, she saw a truck rumbling up the road. It was laden with gnarly old trees, with their roots hanging off like the limbs of doomed people reaching for salvation. Where were they headed? The only area that was burdened with such trees lay to the west of their property. None of this made any sense.