Searching for Caleb

Someone pushed a pot of ivy into her arms. Then a rubber plant. She was carrying so much they had to open the car door for her and help her settle things in. "Just put them anywhere," she said. "The front seat is fine." The front seat was already full of food for the trip- Fritos, Cheez Doodles, salt herring and coffee beans and a box of Luden's. This year she was the only person in the car. Though next year, who could tell? She took the cat from Ann-Campbell, and then once the cat was in she had to get in herself and slam the door, fast, and roll down the window no more than a slit. "Ask Duncan if he's ready to start," she said. The clanging of the tailgate was her answer. "Well, I guess I'll be saying goodbye then." For the first time her voice was sad, and appeared to drift out too slowly on the mist of her breath. "We don't want to hit the rush hour." She stuck a cold silver key in the ignition and kneaded her fingers. Hanging from the gearshift knob was a National Safety Council ad torn out of a magazine: cupids with black straps slanted across their chests, I LOVE YOU, WEAR YOUR SEAT BELT. She turned and looked at the cat, who glared at her from behind a begonia plant. "Well, then," she said, and roared the engine up and left, waving her hand out the slit in the window.

Behind her the U-Haul's engine started too, and the crowd of neighbors moved over to Duncan. "Have a good trip!" "Drive safely, hear?" The truck rolled off. "Oh, aren't you ashamed," Red Emma called suddenly, "taking her away from us like this?" But Duncan only waved. He must not have heard. Or else he was too intent on catching up with Justine, who by now was only a puff of smoke in the distance.