Passage

“Oh, but I’m not driving,” she told Joanna. “I have to have a whole bunch of dental work done, and you never know about the weather this time of year so I’m staying with my son till it’s all done. But you know how it is, living with your kids. I thought participating in a study was a way to get out of my daughter-in-law’s hair once in a while. And I hate just setting around doing nothing.”

Apparently. “Do you mind if I crochet while we talk?” she had asked Joanna at the beginning of the interview and, when Joanna said she didn’t, had pulled out yarn and a half-finished orange-and-yellow-green afghan and begun working on it with work-weathered hands.

Joanna asked her about Deer Trail and her life on the ranch. Mrs. Troudtheim’s answers were comfortable and matter-of-fact, and when Joanna asked her to describe the ranch, she was impressed with the detailed and vivid picture she gave of the land and cattle. If she participated in the project, she would be a good observer. Joanna was also impressed with her friendly, comfortable manner and her open face.

“You told Dr. Wright you’ve never had a near-death experience,” Joanna said, consulting her notes, “Have you ever known anyone who had one?”

“No,” Mrs. Troudtheim said, looping the yarn around the crochet hook and pulling it through the edge of the afghan, “the day before my aunt died, she said she saw her sister — that was my mother — standing at the foot of the bed, dressed in a long white dress. My mother had been dead for several years, but my aunt said she saw her standing there, plain as day, and that she knew she’d come for her. She died the next day.”

“And what did you think of that?” Joanna asked.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, pulling out a length of yarn thoughtfully. “The doctor had her on pretty heavy medication. And I can’t see my mother in a long dress. She hated draggy skirts. People sometimes see what they want to see.”

But I’ll bet you don’t, Joanna thought, and asked her what times she had available.

“She’s the most promising subject yet,” she told Richard after Mrs. Troudtheim had crammed the afghan back in her tote bag and departed. “She reminds me of my relatives in Kansas, tough and kind and realistic, the type who can survive anything and probably have. I think she’ll be perfect for the project. I was especially impressed with her observational skills.”

“Except that she’s obviously color-blind. Did you see that afghan?” Richard asked, shuddering.

“You obviously have never been to Kansas,” Joanna said. “That one wasn’t half bad.”

“Whatever you say,” Richard said.

Joanna grinned. “I say she’ll make an excellent subject.”

“I’d settle for just a subject.”

Me, too, Joanna thought, relieved that she had finally found someone she could okay. She looked at the schedule. Mr. Sage was next, and then Mr. Pearsall, but not until one-thirty. If Mr. Sage’s interview didn’t take too long, she should be able to get down to see Mrs. Woollam. There wouldn’t be time for a full interview, but she could at least run down and meet her, get her to sign a waiver, and set up an interview for this afternoon. If Mr. Sage wasn’t long-winded.

He wasn’t. In fact, she had trouble getting anything out of him. Mr. Sage gave brief, bitten-off answers to everything she asked, which worried Joanna a little. She wondered how forthcoming he would be about what he’d seen in the NDE. But he wasn’t a psychic, or overly interested in death. And he had the best answer yet for why he had volunteered for the project: “My wife made me.”

“What’s your opinion of near-death experiences?” Joanna asked him.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I never thought much about them.” Good, Joanna thought, and asked him about his schedule.

“He was awfully silent,” Richard fretted after he’d left.

“He’ll be fine. People vary in their descriptive powers.” She stood up. “Richard, I’m going to go — ” she began, and her pager went off.

She had already gotten in trouble with Vielle today by not answering it — she’d better at least see who it was. She called the operator, who gave her Maisie’s number. “She said it’s an emergency and you need to call her immediately. I, for one, would appreciate it if you did,” the operator said. “She’s been calling all morning, pestering me to page you on the intercom.”

“Okay,” Joanna laughed, and did.

“You have to come down right now!” an agitated Maisie said. “Ms. Sutterly found out about the crewman on the Hindenburg like you wanted, and you have to come down so I can tell you.”

“I can’t right now, Maisie,” Joanna said. “I have an appointment—”

“But I’m going home, and if you don’t come right away it’ll be too late! I’ll already be gone!”

She sounded genuinely upset. “Okay, I’ll be right down,” Joanna said. “I can only stay a couple of minutes,” she added, though there was no chance she’d get away in time to go see Mrs. Woollam. She’d have to wait till this afternoon.

“I’m going down to tell Maisie good-bye,” she said to Richard. “She’s going home.”