One Day in a Small-Town Desert, chapter 16, page 6

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Fírí Parızada lugged her duffel bag of shoes and cash across the front room to the kitchen. She’d worked hard to embezzle this money; she wasn’t about to leave it behind--especially if the police weren’t going to catch her with it.

The old man, Pí‘oro, had already carried Zhíno out to the stable. It was weird how their assurances of a changed Zhíno matched her dream-that-wasn’t-quite-a-dream. The old couple couldn’t possibly know about that. Maybe there was some truth to this magic, after all. Fírí didn’t have time to argue the point, anyway. She had to get out of there.

Vata stood at the large wooden table, preparing sandwiches. Oranges, bottles of water, and other, hidden items were already packed in leather saddlebags sitting open. The sandwiches looked to be all ham and cheese.

“I’m a vegetarian,” Fírí huffed. Why don’t people ever ask? Koro-brain hicks.

The old woman didn’t look up. “Then pick off the meat, dear.”

Ire rose in Fírí’s chest, but she held her tongue. The sun was almost up and the police would surely arrive any minute.

Vata wrapped the final sandwich in clear plastic and set the stack of five or six into a saddlebag, flipping the bag’s lid shut.

The back door opened and in snuck Pí‘oro.

“The horses are ready. Zhíno’s secured,” he whispered. His eyes focused on Fírí’s duffel. “What’s that?”

“My belongings. If you can take Zhíno, I can take this.”

She wasn’t about to tell them about the cash. Just because she trusted them to get her across the desert, it didn’t mean she had to trust them about anything else.

Pí‘oro grunted and turned to pick up the saddlebags off the table.

“Goodbye, darling.” A bag in each hand, the old man bent over to kiss his wife.

“Go in His name, dearest,” Vata softly replied.

Out the door, Pí‘oro and Fírí scurried. The farmyard, which had seemed so spooky at night, was now mundane in its simplicity. Faded-wood shacks, water basins, food troughs, a chainlink fence for the enclosure, and a wild variety of animals, from housecats to gazelles. The varied animals barely looked at the two humans as they trotted across the soft ground.

The cool air soaked through Fírí’s lungs, invigorating her. She was on the move again. It was good to be alive.

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