Rudolph Wurlitzer - The Drop Edge of Yonder

"I am sad," Frau Sutter said, wiping away tears. "I am crying. What is this meaning?"

"An expression of gratitude," Delilah explained, "gratitude for redemption, for being saved by grace."

"Who is this Grace?" Frau Sutter asked. "Am I knowing her?"

"You know her," Delilah explained. "But if you ask for her, she will never come. And if you don't ask, she won't come either."

"Yes," Frau Sutter exclaimed. "Yes. Yes. I am understanding. You are Grace, and the man you have been saying to me all about is Redemption! The man who goes away and comes back and goes away"

"This is the man." Delilah continued to look into Zebulon's eyes. "Or what passes for him anyway. He goes by another name than Redemption."

Frustrated by these bizarre interruptions, Azariah's riding crop began to slap against his thigh like a runaway metronome.

"Frau Sutter, I beg you — no, listen to me, I implore you: can we please return to the business at hand?"

"Frau Sutter is not calm, Mister Kehoe," Delilah stated firmly "She is not happy, and she is not patient, and until she sees her husband, she will not decide if she will return to Zurich. She has done her best to explain her situation to you, and she will not make any business arrangements or deals about Captain Sutter's land with you or with anyone else."

"Excuse me, Madam," Kehoe said, breaking his riding crop in two. "I have no idea who you are or by whom you're employed, but I find it inappropriate and rude that you speak for Captain Sutter, or, for that matter, for his wife or son or anyone else."

Frau Sutter pulled herself up from the table to her full height, which was not more than five feet. "Countess Baranofsky is not a servant, Herr Keyhole. She comes from Russia to Mexico and then to this fort to ask my husband for help. Her husband, Count Baranofsky, we have talked to in Zurich, Switzerland, to be friends with us and have business in California, a land which I was told is green like God's Eden, which, I am learning, is not true. Now her husband Count Baranofsky is killed by outlaws. I am not saying who is doing what, Herr Keyhole. This is not my fort. It is my husband's fort. I am not here to sell land or chickens or cows."

August Sutter looked around the room with glazed eyes. He struck a match to his pipe, only to stub it out with his thumb, then light it again.

"Can we please finalize this situation? If we're lucky, Mother, some cowboy or prospector or savage red brute will cut off Papa's head, along with that of his Hawaiian mistress. Then we will be able to arrive at a practical solution and not have to depend on people such as Herr Kehole. We will sell everything at a good and fair price and get the hell out of here."

Frau Sutter held her hands over her ears. "August, you are saying against God. You must never speak these terrible words."

"It is not for me to know about God's will or what goes on in Sacramento or San Francisco," Azariah Kehoe said. "But I can assure you, Frau Sutter, that unless you come to terms right now, this very minute, I will leave, and you will be faced with ruin. Please understand: this country is on a fast roll. Soon there will be a train from coast to coast carrying thousands of immigrants into every corner of the state. Unless you make suitable arrangements to distribute your holdings while they still have value, you will be left behind."

Fran Sutter made a desperate effort to concentrate. "You are making me become madness, Mister Kehole. You are looking at my husband's land and you are making plans. My husband owns many hectares. He will arrive with friends and then he will eat and talk with you. Now I only want to sit in a fruit tree with Countess Baranofsky, and speak where we have been and what we have lost, what we will not become or see. I have a dream to come here, a dream of finishing things up. What happens to that dream? Maybe it is the dream of another? Maybe it is not a dream. Maybe I am dreaming there was a dream."

She turned to Delilah. "That happens. You and I are knowing that."

"Yes, we are." Delilah reached over to hold Frau Sutter's hand. "We know all about that."

Azariah Kehoe had heard enough. Bending down, he briefly passed his lips over Frau Sutter's limp hand. "If you will excuse me, Frau Sutter, I have overstayed my visit. Unfortunately, I've important business matters in San Francisco that need attending to. Let us hope for both our sakes that we will never have to discuss business matters again. Please extend my deepest salutations to Captain Sutter. I believe he has my business card."

Delilah looked at Zebulon, then at Kehoe. "Do you know the old saying? `If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans."'

"Indeed," Kehoe muttered, and strode out of the room.

Frau Sutter sighed. "I am always thinking Herr Keyhole will not go away. Now when my husband comes here, he will know if he will stay with me and my children and grow fruits and vegetables and cows. He is no good for business. And now you, Countess, with your nice young man! So strong! So quiet. Do not have him running off to make business!"

She kissed Delilah's hand. "Now, Countess, I am asking you to go away from this fort before it is too late. My husband is failing me. He is always failing me and my children, and he will fail you, Countess, if you have business with him. There is nothing here for you, nothing here for anyone. Are you understanding what I am saying? Go to China or Portugal or India. Go to Switzerland. But always be going from this bad country. What am I saying to you?"

"You're tellin' her vamanos!" Zebulon said.

"Si," she nodded, one hand reaching for a glass of wine, the other hand waving them towards the door. "Vamanos far away."

EBULON FOLLOWED DELILAH ACROSS THE DARK COMPOUND, maneuvering around drunks and Argonauts passed out between wagons and mining machinery, then over a crumbling wall and around a corral towards a tent pitched at the far end of a field.

Inside the tent, they listened to thunder rolling down from the Sierras, followed by gusts of rain slamming against the fragile shelter like tiny fists.

"I knew you would find me," she said.

"Did you want me to?" he asked.

"Off and on," she said.

As suddenly as it had begun, the rain stopped.

She guided his hand to her breast, then to her stomach. Her belly was larger and rounder than he remembered. And there was something else, something that he wasn't sure about that filled him with fear.

Suddenly all that mattered was his horse. For all he knew the horse was dead or had been stolen. Not that anyone would bother to steal a sway-backed strawberry roan on her last legs.

He stood up. "I got to check on my horse."

She reached out to hold onto his leg.

He knelt before her, placing his head on her belly as she stroked his head. Then he was inside her and they were silent in the center of everything that moved.

Until she pushed him away.

Through the open tent flap they saw the Warden and a halfa-dozen men riding towards them. Behind them and in front of the fort, Frau Sutter stood with an older man wearing a bright red uniform and cockade hat, who Zebulon figured must be Sutter. As they stumbled out of the tent, pulling on their clothes, more men and women appeared on top of wagons and along the fort's bastions.

He took the Warden's small golden bowl from his vest pocket and placed it in her hands.

"You can sell it back at the fort, or San Francisco. You'll have enough for wherever you need to go."

"I need to go with you."

"I'll find you," he said.

He ran across the field, circling towards the fort.

As the Warden rode up, she grabbed a stirrup, her other hand pointing east.

"The bastard raped me," she moaned. "He's run off to the mountains."