ࡱ> k MbjbjZ Z 48cb8cbM~22fD$E$G$G$G$G$G$G$$&T)rk$k$$555E$5E$5550nU&*51$$0$5)x)5)55k$k$5$)2B t: CLOSE UP AND FAR AWAY By Patricia Donohoe 2022 West Virginia Fiction Competition, 2nd Place Winner Selected by Barbara Kingsolver Up Close and Far Away was selected for the 2nd place award in the WV Fiction Competition by Barbara Kingsolver. Kingsolver wrote the following about this award-winning story, and Donohoe revised her story accordingly: This engaging, deceptively simple story of a family on a road trip pulled me right along for the ride. The close focus and spare prose reminded me of Bobbie Ann Mason, which is very high praise. Mason was one of the first writers I read, along with Wendell Berry, who taught me to pay attention to my own place and people in order to find my voice. This writer has done the same. Throughout most of the story, the real-time revelations of these characters and their relationships worked beautifully. Their dialogue was realistic and also charmingly unexpected. May Deans observations of the country they passed through offered a poignant study of how we imprint on the landscapes of home, and how those impressions shape our view of everything else. I like how the opening sentence, her fondness for the atlas, foreshadowed the journey and ultimately created irony. Shes happiest at home in her garden. I wished for this endingthe joy she finds in her tomatoesto have been more carefully built into the whole body of the story, so that the payoff is greater when we finally land there. Likewise, Id like to see the authorial control of the first sixteen pages carried through into a fully finished story. The last three pages feel quite abrupt, as the pace shifts from real time into a then this happened, and then this happened kind of tale. I was especially frustrated by Ellies unexplained turnaround from serious, understandable uncertainty about her pregnancy to an almost childishly happy lets name the baby! These mature women all deserve much more nuance than theyre given in the hasty, happily-ever-after pairing up with their men. I know thats the pat ending we see every time in movies and TV, but literature gets to be more thoughtful. There is deeper meaning in this journey for all these women than a simple man-hunt. For May Dean, especially, something has to have turned over in her heart. If the author holds the journeys meaning clearly in mind, it will come through for the reader. In order to avoid adding too much length, the story might need to end as theyre turning for home, with May Deans longing for the taste of her own tomatoes. Or it could resume after a space break and time jump, with May Dean in her garden thinking back on the trip, and her expectations, what came of it all and what didnt. In any event, this story could be longer and still hold my attention. With further revision, I feel sure it will realize its terrific promise. May Dean Dunnavant flipped the back cover of the 2012 road atlas open. She liked the big picture a paper atlas gave her. But she liked to read it from back to front. There was something perverse about starting at the back of a book or magazine. It appealed to her sense of justice, of bucking the system, riding the edge of the unexpected. She was, in fact, doing something unexpected. At least, for her. But she suspected everyone else in the van felt the same way. All five of themMay Dean, her sister Ida, daughter Ellie, friend Jake, and Ellies boyfriend Zackwere headed to Cincinnati, where they would stop for breakfast. But this was only the first stretch of a long journey. Wyoming, May Dean said, interrupting the early morning lull that had settled over them. Its almost a perfect rectangle on the map, she added, a little louder. When no one responded, she twisted around in the front passenger seat of Idas new van. They were all asleepexcept for her and Ida, who was driving. May Dean turned back around and opened the atlas to the front, where there was a map of the whole United States. Its a hell of a way out there, she said more to herself than anyone. Three straight days just to get there, plus another two weeks in Wyoming with Idas friend Stubby Littletoe at his newly inherited ranch. And then the long ride back to Ohio and Portsmouth. Three weeks stuck together tighter than a clump of raisins. Now why did she agree to this? She put the atlas down and pulled up her new knit top. It was loose and drapey, but her bra felt like a ligature from a crime novel. Had anyone ever been strangled with a bra? If so, what kind? Probably not a sports bratoo much give. Minimizers wouldnt work either with those unbending metal supports. No, it would have to be something like the one shed pulled out of the drawer when she was half asleep at 5 a.m., BC (Before Coffee). She mustve grabbed one of those smaller ones she kept hanging onto in hopes she could stuff herself back into it one of these days. Too late now, but shed be darned if she was going to sit there all day like a trussed turkey. She reached behind her, undid the three hooks of the diabolical contraption and took a big breath. There, she said, as her double Ds tumbled free. Where? Ida said, thinking May Dean saw something on the road. Oh nothing, just talkin to myself. Well help me watch out for deer. I can hardly see twenty feet in this soup. Fingers of fog clutched at little villages squeezed into the cleavage of hills along the river. Friendship, Buena Vista, Manchester, Aberdeen, RipleyMay Dean counted them off as ghosts of long-gone relatives rose from the mist. She found herself wondering what the Ohio valley looked like back in 1803 when her ancestor, Duncan McKenzie, settled in Adams County, before monstrous power plants, dilapidated buildings, and roadside trash littered the landscape. By the time they reached Cincinnati the sun had burnt most of the fog off. Just a few strands slithered on the river as they crossed the bridge into Kentucky. May Dean heard some rustling in the back of the van. Pococurante, Jake said. Huh? Its just a word I was trying to think of. May Dean had never heard the word before. She looked back to see if he was kidding. He was the only one in the second row. She loved the way his blue eyes sparkled when he saw something absurd, but what in the world was he talking about? A pococurante! he said, pointing to a sign for a political candidate they all disliked. You dont hear it very often, but I believe its someone thats noncaring, indifferent. I think Voltaire used it for one of his characters in Candide. He turned to the back row. You remember which one, Zack? Zack gently lifted Ellies sleepy head off his shoulder and propped it against a pillow before leaning forward. No, I havent read that yet. But didnt Laurence Sterne use it in Tristam Shandy? The reason I remember is that Id never seen the word before and had to look it up. Wrote it down in my notebook for new and weird words. You keep a notebook for that? Ellie was suddenly awake. Sure. My grandfatherwhen he first came to this countrywould memorize a page of words in the dictionary every day. He even made a list of words he thought would help him in his new life here. And he thought that word would be helpful? In Portsmouth? Ellie pronounced her hometown the way natives didPorchmuth. No. I mean, dont know. Dont have his list. But you never know when a word like that might come in handy. Not here, I hope, Ida said, turning into a Cracker Barrel parking lot. It was time for breakfast. * * * They made good time until the bypass around Indianapolis, where a blinding downpour caused a traffic backup that quickly exhausted Idas four-letter vocabulary. By the time they crossed into Illinois, they were so eager for a break, the first Golden Arches they saw looked like a sign from heaven. May Dean jumped out of the van as soon as the wheels came to a stop. Shit, she said. A puddle of muddy water covered her freshly pedicured, purple toenails and new white sandals. Shed splurged on her first pair of Birks, and now theyd only be good for gardening. Her garden! Had a gully-washer back home done it in? She squished across the parking lot and tried not to think about her precious Brandywines or the mud oozing between her toes. The restroom was so crowded they had to flatten themselves against the wall when someone left or came in. May Deans bladder nearly jumped out ahead of her once her turn at the toilet finally came. Thank god her cutoffs had an elastic waist. But exquisite relief was quickly followed by the need to weave and push her way through the crush around the sink. With so many bodies pressed into so tight a space, there was no way she could bend over and take her sandals off, much less rinse and dry them. Besides which, there were no paper towels. Just two stupid air dryers imitating commercial leaf-blowers. She scuffed out the door and joined the crew outside, where a scorching sun blasted down on them. Feels like an oven out here, Jake said, blotting his forehead with a monogrammed handkerchief. May Dean felt the muck on her feet dry into a gritty shellac. Her toes were cemented together. How bout we take the van through that car warsh, she said, pointing across the road. Surely itd have a hose or spigot she could use. We need to get a move on, Ida said. Lots of miles to make. She started herding them to the van. But May Dean wasnt going anywhere. She planted her feet on the tarmac and squared her shoulders like her stubborn little dachsie. I gotta do something bout these first. She lifted one foot, then the other. Jesus! You need a good ol biblical foot washing, Jake said. He helped her climb onto the second row of seats in the van so her feet stuck out the side door. Zack pulled her sandals off and rinsed them with bottled water while Ellie and Ida cleaned each foot with lemon-scented handwipes. I feel like a new person, May Dean said when they were finished. She wiggled her toes and smiled. Is this what being saved feels like? Were already saved, Jake said. At least thats what my dad always said when someone thought baptism meant salvation. Yeah, what do we need to be saved from, anyway, Zack said. Losing more time, Ida said. She handed the keys to Jake, who saluted her and donned his aviator sunglasses. With the two guys up front, the two sisters enjoyed spreading out in the second row, and Ellie curled up in her nest of pillows in the back. She was already napping again by the time they hit the interstate. Ida lifted a copy of Lonesome Dove from her leather tote and flipped it open. You goin to read that? May Dean asked. It was a thick paperback with small type. Thought I would. Why? Oh nothin. Guess Im just bored is all. Ill just look at the landscape some more. Shed always been hungry for more adventure and seeing new places. It was fun to imagine what living in a different place would be like, but everything had started looking the same once they left hill country. She missed the irregularity of mountains, where every hill and valley had a different shape and feel to it. There was a sense of mystery, of suspense, in wondering what was on the other side of each knoll and curve. There was something depressing about the predictability of endless acres of soy and corn along the interstate. The jingle of Idas phone was a welcome interruption, and she twisted around to hear who was calling. But Ida turned toward the door and cooed into the phone. May Dean had a hard time making out what she was saying, so she scooted closer and leaned over her canvas carryall next to Idas feet. As sisters they were entitled to snoop into each others business, werent they? She was almost in hearing range when Idas face popped in front of hers. Every fleck of powder was visible in the auburn hairs of her sisters eyebrows. What are you doing? The eyebrows went up a notch. Just looking for my chap stick. May Dean pulled it out, uncapped it, and started slathering her lips. Who was that? she asked casually as she snapped the lid back on. What? Idas eyebrows rose another notch. As though she didnt understand. May Dean recognized that deflection. In fact, she was familiar with all of her sisters clever little tricks. Well, almost all. Who . . . were . . . you . . . talking . . . to, she said, carefully enunciating each word. Ida lifted her shoulders a tad. Oh, that. Just Stubby. Is he okay? Something we should know? No, he was just checking to see where we are. Ida studied her bronze-colored nails and picked at a chip on her right forefinger. He gets lonely out there. Hell, I get lonely out in South Webster. Besides, hes an interesting guy. Never said he wasnt, May Dean said. So you and he are, um . . . . Friends. Ida reclined her seat and relaxed against it, but May Dean was on to that tactic, too. Oh, now I get it. Hes the real reason were on this safari, isnt he? May Dean narrowed her dark brown eyes in an effort to bore through her sisters veneer of complacency. Its a great opportunity to see the country, Ida said. When did you and I ever get to do that growing up? May Dean stared at the monotonous farmland outside her window. Shed never seen anything like it. Guess Im just your typical hillbilly, she said after a bit. Me, too, Ellie said, yawning. No way! Zack said. He turned around and faced the three women in back. The golden glints in his hazel eyes blazed. If anything, the Dunnavant women are icons. Silence enveloped the van as the three women contemplated what that meant. When they finally turned into the parking lot of a restaurant in Iowa City, May Dean, Ida, and Ellie raced each other to the Ladies Room, which thank goodness was clean and empty. What did Zack mean when he said were icons, May Dean said, after they finished using the stalls and were washing their hands. A symbol, I guess, Ellie said. Yeh, but for what, May Dean said. Actually, I feel more like an anachronism, Ida said, powdering over some age spots. Good god, where did that come from? May Dean stopped fluffing her dark curls and peered at her sister. Read it in a mystery novel. It helped the detective figure out. . . . No, I mean why you think youre an anachronism. Dont you ever feel like youre out of step? Like the rest of the worlds gone on without you? Ida asked. Never have time or energy to think about things like that, May Dean said, reaching underneath her knit top and pulling her refastened bra down. Shed read somewhere that each boob could weigh as much as a small turkey. In her case, itd be stuffed. Ellie felt the tension between the two sisters mounting. Jake and Zack are probably wondering whats happened to us, she said. Lets go, May Dean said, before someone thinks up another label. Ida pulled out her phone once they were seated in the dining room. Its already 7:30, so I guess we should stay here tonight, she said, tapping her phone. How many rooms? Two, May Dean said at the same time Ellie said three. I thought we had this discussion and everyone agreed. The three women in one room and two guys in the other, May Dean said. Actually, Id like a room to myself, Ida said. Need to make some calls. Ellie grinned at Zack, but May Dean felt her cheeks prickle. She was hoping this trip would provide some special time with her daughter and sisterwho always seemed too busy to hang out with her anymore. Plus, she was a bit self-conscious about sharing a room with Jake. Doing so meant acknowledging the sexual nature of their relationship in front of her sister and daughter, and even though they were a couple, she still didnt know what to call him. Was he her boyfriend? No, that sounded too juvenile. Lover made her think of an illicit affair; fianc wasnt accurate; and significant other reminded her of the statistics course she had struggled with that spring. Maybe he was her icon! Ha! That would be something! They were all more relaxed at breakfast the next morning, but another exhausting day lay ahead. May Dean took the first shift at the wheel, followed by Ida, and then the guys. Ellie preferred napping in the caboose, as Ida called it. They played every car game they could think of across Nebraska and still found themselves in that same state when they finally pulled into a hotel that evening. May Dean felt like a tub of melted ice cream. She didnt even know where she was the next morning when she heard someone knocking on the door. She thought she remembered seeing a sign for Scotts Bluff when they stopped the night before. If that was the case, they still had another 175 miles to Casper, where they planned to meet Stubby before heading out to the ranch. That knocking again. May Dean slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Jake, and tied her wrap around her. She peered through the peek hole expecting to see Ida, eager to get going, but nope, it was Ellie. May Dean undid all the locks and let her in. Everything okay, doll? she whispered. Ellie started to say something, but May Dean shushed her and pulled her into the bathroom. She closed the door as quietly as she could, not wanting to wake Jake, who was still naked under the sheet flopped across his middle. It had been a great night for them, but hadnt included a lot of sleep. Sorry to bother you, Ellie said behind the closed bathroom door. I accidentally dropped my last razor down the toilet and need to shave my legs. Do you have an extra? May Dean rumbled through her toiletry bag and dug out a couple of disposable razors. You sure thats all you need? she asked, putting them in Ellies hand. The look on Ellies face didnt go with the leg-shaving emergency. She looked panicked, like the time she got her first period. She avoided looking at her mother, but May Dean could see her reflection in the mirror. Somethings wrong, May Dean said, just as Ellie covered her face with her hands and started sobbing. May Dean reached out to hug her, but before she could get her arms around her, Ellie was bent over the toilet. * * * May Dean leaned toward her daughter and kept her voice low so it wouldnt carry back to Zack, Jake, and Ida, about twenty yards behind. They had taken Route 26 so they could stop at Fort Laramie and the Guernsey Ruts. Theyd read about the wagon ruts on the Oregon Trail but were still surprised to see how deep they were. May Deans mind was on something else, though. Have you told him? Ellie shook her head as Zack caught up with them. He put his arm around her. Awesome, he said, pointing to the canyon-like walls where the ruts cut five feet down into sandstone ridges along the North Platte. They stopped to look at the names carved into a boulder. How many babies do you think were born and died out here? Ellie asked, as Ida and Jake caught up to them. Hundreds probably, May Dean said. Born, that is. Lets hope not so many died. Do you think these are the names of babies that died? Ellie ran her hands across some markings. May Dean didnt like the direction this conversation was taking but didnt want to say anything. When she was pregnant with Ellie, no one in her family had tried to influence her about whether or not to keep the baby. She wanted Ellie to have that same freedom. Ellie would have to live with her decision the rest of her life. But it was Ida who answered first. Babies die everywhere, Ellie. She turned and started walking ahead toward the visitors center. Ida was waiting for them back at the van. Ellie, Im sorry. No, Im the one who should apologize, Ellie said, remembering the stories shed heard about the infant daughter Ida had lost. Here, Ida said, handing her the keys. Would you like to drive? Ellie shook her head, but handed the keys to Zack, who turned his Cincinnati Bengals hat backward and slid into the drivers seat. Ida burrowed into the pillowed nest in the caboose, so Ellie rode up front with Zack, and May Dean and Jake plopped down in the second row. A stagnant stillness settled on them as they left the ruts. * * * Stubby was waiting for them the next morning at the caf next to their motel in Casper, where he suggested they stay another night before heading out to the ranch. Once you get there, theres no place else to go. Until we make a point of going somewhere, he said, chuckling. Besides, I want you to get a taste of some specialties round here. He pulled several twisted pieces of dark brown rope from his hunting vest and handed one to each of them. Whats this? Ida smelled it and crinkled her nose. Everyone else sniffed it, too. Only Zack smiled. Jerky, Stubby said. From antelope and mule deer. People eat this? May Deans nose scrunched up, too. Yep. But you dont have to. Stubby laughed, lifting a cooler from his new green pickup and sliding it into the back of the van. Save your appetite for this picnic lunch and the steak dinner tonight. But let me warn youdont order your beef rare or even medium rare. Unless you want it kickin. So youre a cowboy now? Ida said, taking in his customized pickup, western boots, and Stetson. May Dean wondered if Ida had also noticed that his overlapping belly and wiry beard were gone. He looked fit and lean with a tanned face that emphasized his high cheekbones and dark blue eyes. Ida climbed into the vans front passenger seat and insisted that he drive. Jake and May Dean were in the second row again, and May Dean glanced back at Zack and Ellie, who smiled and looked fine. May Dean had a plastic laundry bag in her carryall just in case. They saw a herd of antelope out Hat Six Road and some mule deer when they turned off on a dirt track that wound up one side of Muddy Mountain, down another, and up to the top of Casper Mountain. By the time they stopped at a picnic area, Ellies face was blanched, and May Dean was a bit short-winded herself from the high altitude. You okay? May Dean asked when they were off to the side. Just dehydrated, she said, sipping a ginger ale. May Dean kept looking for a way to talk with her apart from the others, but it wasnt until after lunch when they were back in town that she saw her chance. Stubby had taken them to Lou Tauberts to treat them to some western clothes. Youre going to need these for the ranch, he said, brushing aside Idas protest when she saw the price tags on boots, hats, and everything else. But this is over the top! Listen, m lady. You dont know what your being here means to me, he said, putting both hands on her shoulders and forcing her to look at him. They all grabbed a bundle of clothes and headed to the dressing rooms. May Dean crowded into one with Ellie and shut the door. She squeezed into a pair of dark denim pants. At least they had some stretch. She wasnt so sure about the plaid cowboy shirt. You told him? May Dean asked, unbuttoning the shirt. It was clearly made for someone tall and slim. No, Ellie said. She unsnapped a denim blouse and hung it with some Levis. May Dean couldnt help comparing her daughters small, lacey bra with her own sturdy minimizer. Why not? she asked, looking for her knit top. Because! Ellie said, her silvery eyes flashing, I dont know what to do! It is a huge decision. How can I be a mother? Ellie said. Im not even done with myself yet. Youll never be done with yourself. I could get a procedure and hed never even know, Ellie said, slipping her shorts and Tee-shirt back on. You could. May Dean didnt know what else to say. She pulled her knit top over her head. Shed just gotten her arms through the sleeves when Ellie stepped in front of her. Did you ever think about an abortion when you were pregnant with me? Everything seemed to heave around her as an earthquake ripped through her gut. She nearly folded but somehow managed to stand her ground and hold her daughters gaze. Youll always be the best thing that ever happened to me, she said. Ellies upper lip quivered. She grabbed the clothes she wanted and headed out, as the door banged behind her. * * * The drive to the ranch took them through the most desolate country May Dean had ever seen. Broad expanses of scrub were broken only by rugged rock outcroppings and sharp, jagged mountains in the distance. Ida was with Stubby in his pickup, and May Dean, in the vans front passenger seat, was glad that Jake was driving. She kept glancing in the rearview mirror at Zack and Ellie in the second row. They seemed okay, but May Dean had the feeling that Ellie was avoiding eye contact with her. She was just about to twist around and say something when they turned off the main highway and crossed a cattle guard onto a rutted track. The van lurched over one bump after another as Jake tried to keep up with Stubbys pickup. Every so often theyd get close enough to see the back of Stubbys round head bobbing up and down and Idas mouth flapping beside him as they crested another fold of land. But then the pickup would zoom down the other side like a giant roller coaster, and theyd be left in a cloud of dust. She peeked at the rearview mirror again. Ellies eyes were closed but her skin was paler than usual beneath her field of freckles. The sun was squatting on the horizon when they finally came to a stop in front of a rambling stone and timbered house against a hill dotted with small cedars. After a warm welcome, Stubby showed them to their rooms and invited them for cocktails on the front porch to meet his ranch hands, housekeeper, and cook. Those tamales hit the spot, Ellie said after dinner when they gathered around the fireplace. She smiled at Zack. May Dean thought she looked like she was feeling better. But had anyone else noticed her refusal of any alcoholic beverages that evening? She was just going to ask something innocuous, like could they get the recipe for those tamales, when the sound of wind slamming grit and sagebrush against the house grabbed everyones attention. Stubby smiled and motioned toward the windows. They call it the Chinook. It roars down the mountains, across the high plains. Is it always this windy? Zack asked, cocking an ear to the increasing whine. No, sometimes its worse. Like how bad does it get? Zack said, rubbing Ellies neck. Well, said Stubby, you know its really bad when theres whitecaps in the toilet. They all laughed, but May Dean felt a shiver ripple through her. How could anyone live out here? It was so bleak and lonely, and everything was on such a huge scale. She felt exposed and insignificant, a tiny speck in a universe with nothing at the center but something cold and uncaringa cosmic pococurante! She looked at Stubby, who was still chuckling about his windy jokes. Dont you miss the hills and trees back east? she asked. Indeed I do, he said, getting up to put more logs on the fire. I never knew how much a landscape was part of you. Take your trees, for instance. Back home theyre everywhere. Out here, theyre an interruption. To me, the barrenness feels unfinished, raw. But to people here it means room, lots of it, and freedom. When they go back east, all our vegetation gives them the creepslike its going to crawl in the window and strangle them. Jake put his arm around May Dean. The warmth of his body felt good against hers, and she felt herself relax into his large, cushiony frame. But what was up with Ida? She was poised on the edge of the other leather couch, her jawline tight. It was the same look May Dean remembered seeing the first time she dove off the high board at Dreamland when they were kids. So much had changed since then. The community swimming pool was gone, the downtown nothing but a dump for druggies. Other than the new university, was there anything worth going back for? Maybe there was a kind of beauty in the starkness of wide-open spaces. Are you staying out here? she asked Stubby. Depends on what Ida wants to do. Stubby stood and pulled her up beside him before taking her hands in his. When she smiled and nodded, he continued. You see, wed like to get married, while you all are here, to be part of our ceremony. They all jumped up to congratulate them and, after some excited talk about wedding plans, went to bed with smiles on their faces. Except for May Dean, who sighed as she plunked down on the love seat in her and Jakes room. She was glad for Ida, but for herself? A howling Chinook couldnt have left her feeling more stripped. First her daughter grown and gone, and now her sister. What was left for her to hold onto? Maybe a new grandbaby. But even that was uncertain. May Dean? Jake sat down beside her. Ive never seen you look so down. Is something wrong? Nothing in particular. Just everything, she said, unable to hold back the tears. When he looked puzzled, she managed to clear her throat and continue. Seems like Im just an interruption on everyone elses horizon. Not on mine. He handed her a neatly folded handkerchief. She wiped her tears away and needed to blow her nose, too, but couldnt bring herself to use his handkerchief for that. Jake. . . , she said, I dont. . . . Shhhh, he whispered. Dont say anything. He kissed his finger and traced her lips. The last sound May Dean heard that night was the wind whistling around the house. * * * Its good to go and good to get back, Jake said as they pulled up in front of his home in the big tree district of Portsmouth. May Dean couldnt agree more. She wasnt sure what she was getting back to, though. Ida had asked them to drive her van back so she and Stubby could figure out where they wanted to live. What their decision would mean for her and Idas relationship was anybodys guess. And then there was Zack and Ellie. As she dropped them off at the cottage Ellie had inherited from her fathers family, she couldnt help wondering if one of the bedrooms would become a nursery. They had so many things to think aboutgraduate school, jobs, marriage if they wanted it. How would a baby figure into all of that? All she knew was that she and Ellie had an important conversation to finishor at least begin. But when and whereor howto go about that, May Dean had no idea. By the time she finished getting a few groceries at the Kroger, she couldnt help giving in to a little self-pity, especially as she drove down one street after another devastated by the pill mill plague. By the time she turned onto her road, she was holding her breath, hoping for something different from what shed left. Her street was only a few miles from Jakes. But worlds apart. Scraggly front yards and sagging houses lined the street on one side, with the decrepit remains of the Pepsi-Cola plant crouching on the other. For a few seconds she missed the sweeping panoramas of the Rocky Mountain West. The image of one, lonely tree on the wide-open prairie had a certain appeal. One tree could shelter a lot of life. But the West had its share of problems, too. Especially Wyomingwhere everything felt so far away from so much that was close to her heart. Like her garden. Shed been dreaming about it all the way back. Had her neighbor remembered to water it? She was almost afraid to look but couldnt resist heading out back as soon as she put the groceries away. She tugged at the gate, ignoring the sprawl of weeds. Shed get to them another day. What she was after was over by the garage, where strong stakes kept her babies off the ground. Yep, there they were, glowing in the evening sun. She picked the ripest ones and nestled them in a basket. Her father always said no place beat Appalachian hill country for growing ta-mate-us, and here was proof, lined up on her kitchen counter. Three juicy globes ready to burst into flavor. She slid two pieces of bread into the toaster and set the reddest one on a cutting board. Her knife glistened above the plump perfection. Wait. How could she spoil such beauty? 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