Percival Everett - Assumption

“Maybe she’s not here,” Caitlin said.

“She’s here. I don’t think she ever leaves.”

“Who’s there?” a woman said. She came through a door beside the refrigerator full of eggs and milk. “Who’s that?”

“It’s Ogden, Maggie.”

“Ogden? Ogden who?”

“Ogden Walker. Eva’s son.”

“Eva Walker? How is she?”

“She’s fine, Maggie.”

“I ain’t seen you in forever,” the old woman said. Her face was absurdly lined, her hair all gray and worn waist-long in a braid. “Is this your wife?”

“No, ma’am. This is Caitlin Alison. She’s from Ireland.”

“My husband’s mother was from Ireland,” Maggie said.

“Maggie, have you seen this woman?”

Caitlin showed Maggie the photograph.

“Yes, yes, I’ve seen her.” Maggie looked out her front doors as if expecting someone. “Everybody comes in here.”

“Did you talk to her at all?” Ogden asked.

“She’s my cousin,” Caitlin said. “Her name is Fiona.”

“Yes, I talked to her. I talked to her for a long time. Buddy talked to her, too.”

Ogden sighed and looked away. “When was this, Maggie?”

“Just the other day. Last week, maybe. She said she was from someplace.”

“Where?” Ogden asked.

“Someplace else. It made Buddy laugh.”

“Did she say where she was living?”

“My hollyhocks aren’t coming up they way they should. Oh, all the volunteers are sprouting up where I don’t want them, but the ones in my garden, no.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Ogden said.

“Do you think my soil is too rich?” Maggie asked. “I used a new fertilizer.”

“It’s possible.” Ogden nodded to Caitlin. “Maggie, thanks for talking to us. We’ll be going now.”

“She said she was living up above Questa.”

“Thanks, Maggie.”

As they walked back to the truck, Caitlin asked, “Questa?”

“Might as well be Mars. Maggie’s out of her head. Buddy’s been dead for ten years.”

“I see.”

“I don’t have any better ideas, though.”

Ogden looked up at the intense midday sun.

“Is it far?” Caitlin asked. “Questa.”

“Not too far. But why would she come way down here to mail letters? There’s a post office up there, a bigger one. And why shop here?”

“Because it’s quaint?” Caitlin said.

Ogden shrugged.

“I don’t want to take up all of your day,” the woman said.

“I did promise my mother I’d do something for her. If you don’t mind, I’ll drive you to Questa tomorrow morning. I think it’s a wild-goose chase, but we should check it out.”

“That works for me.”

Ogden dropped Caitlin off at the office of El Pueblo Motel and told her he’d see her early the next day. He then drove to his mother’s house, where he found her washing the stray dog she’d taken in a couple of weeks ago.

“Fleas?” Ogden asked.

“Not anymore.”

“You ready to go pick out a new air conditioner?”

“Thanks for remembering. So, did you find the missing girl?”

Ogden made a decision to not look surprised. “There is no girl and she’s not missing.”

“You found her then.”

“No,” Ogden said.

“Son, that’s what folks around here call missing.”

His mother had a point, but it wasn’t a really a valid one. Ogden said nothing.

“I know, I know,” she said, waving her hand. “You’re not allowed to discuss an ongoing case.”

“There really is no case. So far no one is missing. Besides, I don’t have cases. I write tickets and stumble onto marijuana gardens. Now, let’s go get your air conditioner.”

“Okay. Don’t get your undies all twisted up.”

“And may I ask who informed you about the alleged missing person?”

“A bird told me.” She loved saying that or, I have my sources.

Ogden drove his mother to Manny’s Appliance Depot or MAD as the locals called it. Manny had one of the few billboards in town and most people hated it, if only for its sheer size. Everyone hated it but Manny and Blinky Ortiz, the sign maker. The billboard was a giant hand-painted portrait of Manny with microwave ovens for eyes and a deep freeze for a mouth. Blinky had painted the sign himself and along with it the mural on the side of the store. The mural depicted refrigerators dressed like Indians dancing around a huge, glowing-red convection oven. The scene was modeled after the local corn dance and most people were offended by it, but Blinky, being Native, claimed that every detail was accurate, except for the fact that the dancers were appliances.

Inside, Ogden and his mother were approached by Manny. Manny looked like a loud person. He was a big man in bright clothes, shiny shoes, with long strides and large gestures. But when he opened his mouth, the softest, almost sweet, voice came out. It wasn’t feminine, but it was easy on the ear.

“Hello, Deputy, Mrs. Walker,” he said. He prided himself on knowing the name of anyone who had ever bought anything from him.

“Hello, Manny,” Eva said. “I need an air conditioner. A good one that can run day and night.”

Ogden let his mother wander off with Manny. He would stay out of it, let her make her decision, then carry it home and install it and drive it back when she didn’t like it. Manny was honest and his shop was the only show in town. They could have driven down to Santa Fe, but they didn’t and wouldn’t. Ogden browsed the shelves of hand tools. He stopped and admired all of the saws, daydreamed about making cabinet furniture some day.

“Hey, Ogden.”

Ogden turned around to find Leon Newton, the county clerk. He was a tall, pale white man with an endearing comb-over. “Hello, Leon.”

“Looking at saws?”

“Yes. What brings you in here?”

“Nails. Need nails. I own a house. I always need nails.”

Ogden nodded.

“Anything interesting going on down at the sheriff’s office?”

Ogden shook his head. He picked up a Japanese handsaw.

“That’s beautiful,” Leon said.

“It is.”

“I heard you’re looking for a young woman.”

“You heard that?”

“The girl’s cousin told me,” Leon said. “She was in my office a little while ago. I love her accent.”

“What was she doing in your office?”

“Looking at maps. She said she thought the most detailed maps would be in my office. She was right, of course. She’s smart. I pointed her to the giant one. You know, the big one on the wall opposite the counter. She looked at it for a good long time.”

“She ask to see anything else?”

“Like what?”

Ogden shrugged.

“No, she just looked at the map.” Leon looked at the saw still in Ogden’s hands. “I work with wood, you know. When I’m not trying to hold my house together with nails. I build cabinets. When I need them anyway. Measure twice and cut once, that’s my rule. Still, it doesn’t always work. You like to work with your hands, Deputy?”

“When I get a chance.”

“I think I’m going to build myself a gazebo. A place to sit and watch the sun go down. That’s a big project, but I think I can do it.”

Ogden smiled. “That’s great, Leon. Listen, I’ve got to find my mother.”

“Tell her I said hello.”

“I’ll do that.”

As they drove home Ogden’s mother said, “Manny says this one has plenty of BTUs.”

“That’s a good thing. You wouldn’t want to have too few BTUs,” Ogden said.

“Laugh if you want, sonny, but I know where you’ll be on hot August nights.”

“Nursing my hernia at your house.”

“It’s a little big.”

Ogden nodded in agreement.

“You don’t have to set it up tonight,” she said.