“I’m a visitor,” el lobo told her, amusement flickering in his eyes again. “But I like it. There’s an unusual smell in the air.”
Adelita nodded. “It smells like rain.”
At his puzzled look, she explained, “It’s the resin on the leaves of the creosote bushes. We had some rain last night.” She turned to Bettina. “Have you seen Mama yet?”
Bettina shook her head. “We came here first.”
“She’ll be happy to see you. You can’t imagine how much she talks about you, considering how little you spoke with each other when you lived here. And Janette will be delighted.”
“I won’t have time to see either of them this trip,” Bettina told her.
Adelita regarded her worriedly. “Why are you here? You’re not in trouble, are you?”
“No,” Bettina told her. “We’re finished with the trouble part. I was just hoping I could leave my things with you.”
“Why? Where are you going?”
Bettina smiled. Adelita was more like their Mama than she’d ever care to admit. Always worried. Always needing to know what was going on.
“To find Papa.”
Adelita said nothing, but the look on her face spoke volumes.
“There has still been no word?” Bettina asked.
“You must understand,” her sister said. “I loved him, too. But he left us, Bettina. He abandoned us.”
Bettina shook her head. “I’ve been told that he has lost his way. That he has forgotten us—not because we mean nothing to him, but because he is in no position to remember.”
It was hard to find a way to say this without speaking of brujería and spirits, but Bettina didn’t wish to start another argument right now.
Adelita regarded her steadily. “Who told you this?”
“It doesn’t matter who.”
“¿Quien?”Adelita repeated, her voice sharper.
“You will not be happy with my answer.”
Adelita sighed. “Just tell me what you have heard.”
“Bien,” Bettina said. “He is in the desert. Living as a hawk who has forgotten he is a man. I want to find him. I need to remind him who he is.”
Anger flashed in her sister’s eyes.
“¿Estás loca?” she said. “How can you even begin to believe such things?”
“I told you the answer would not please…” Bettina began.
She paused when Adelita held up a hand. Her sister took a steadying breath.
“Perdona,” she said in a softer voice. “Here I promised you that I would try harder to keep an open mind and the first thing you tell me makes me want to shake the sense back into you.”
“Adelita…”
“But it is hard, Bettina. Está muy dificil. These things you believe… the world you live in… it is so far from my own.”
Bettina searched her sister’s gaze. Of all the reactions she might have expected from her sister, this was the most surprising. But she saw that Adelita was truly trying to, if not exactly believe, to at least be willing to listen.
“I could show it to you,” she said. “I could take you into it.”
“No, no,” Adelita told her. “It’s too late for that. I have Chuy and Janette to think of. I have… my world.”
You can have both, Bettina thought, but she left it unsaid.
“It should have been different,” she said. “It should have belonged to both of us.”
Adelita shook her head. “Quizás .But I might not have met Chuy, and we wouldn’t have had Janette. I would not give up my daughter for anything.”
Silence fell between them. Outside the gallery, the world went on, tourists happily exclaiming over this or that find, planning their lunches, looking for a washroom. Inside, the shadow of la epoca del mito hung thick in the air.
“Así,” Adelita said finally. “So. You are going into the desert, then.”
Bettina nodded, unwilling to trust her voice at this moment.
“What will I tell Mama? And Janette?”
Bettina drew a ragged breath. She looked to her wolf and the kindness in his eyes gave her strength.
“Tell them nothing,” she said. “I will be back as soon as I can.”
With Papa, she thought, if all goes well. But she left that unsaid as well.
“You will be going far?”
Bettina considered la epoca del mito, how it could take one anywhere, anywhen.
“I don’t know yet,” she said.
“If you… if you come nearby again, you will stop and see me, yes? You could have a meal with us before you must go on once more. You know Janette would love to see you. Everyone misses you.”
A film of tears blurred Bettina’s vision.
“You know I love you all,” she said. “But I love our papá, too.”
Adelita swallowed hard. “If you can find him, bring him back to us.”
“I will. I promise.”
Adelita opened her arms and Bettina stepped into her embrace. When they pulled apart, both their eyes were wet with unshed tears.
“I will leave you with this,” Bettina said.
Taking her wolf’s hand, she reached out for her bosque del corazon. Then they stepped away, as though walking through a curtain of air, the hard tile surface of the gallery turning to dirt and pebbles under their feet. Bettina heard her sister gasp, just before the curtain closed behind them.
“Why did you do that?” her wolf asked.
They stood in la epoca del mito once more. Tubac, La Gata Verde, Adelita, the tourists… all were gone. There was only the desert, Bettina’s bosque del corazon in the shadow of Baboquivari Peak. The lights that had risen from it the last time they were here had been replaced by a shroud of clouds, as though I’itoi had wrapped himself in a cloak of vapor.
“To let her know that her trust was not unfounded,” Bettina said.
“How so?”
Bettina smiled. “It’s hard to keep an open mind. So I gave her something to fill it. To keep the door of what might be ajar.”
He nodded. “And now you’ve named me. Lobo.”
He said the word as though tasting something unfamiliar. It was impossible to tell from his expression if the taste of it pleased him.
“That’s how I’ve always thought of you,” Bettina told him. “El lobo. The wolf. My wolf.”
“I can be that,” he said. “And gladly.”
It wasn’t easy to part with her wolf, but his responsibility to the manitou of the Kickaha Hills pressed on him and Bettina had her own obligations to fulfill. They tried to say goodbye quickly, but Bettina still clung to him for a long moment before she finally stepped back and let him go. El lobo appeared no more eager to leave himself. He held her hands, lifting them to his lips to kiss the palms, first one, then the other. Before she could speak, before she made the mistake of asking him to stay, or telling him she would go with him, he gave her a last, quick kiss on her lips and walked away.
He seemed to step into a heat mirage, a shimmering in the air, then just as they had departed from Adelita’s gallery in Tubac, he was gone. Bettina sighed heavily. The minutes slipped away as she stood there, gaze on the place where he had vanished. Finally, she sighed again. Rolling her shoulders to loosen her muscles, she began the task she had not spoken of to either her wolf or Adelita.
First she went into Tucson to buy some staples: beans, squash, peppers, tomatoes, chiles, corn flour, tea. A container for water, a pot to cook and eat from. Bundles of twine. Matches. A small spade. A long-bladed folding knife. It was a short trip and she was soon back in her bosque del corazon under the shadow of Baboquivari Peak.