She walked slowly into the main room, which seemed to serve as kitchen and dining room and just about everything else. There was a rickety card table set up in the center, also thick with dust, and an old couch with a print that had faded into obscurity. Bookcases lined the windows in the back wall, which framed another door, this one painted green.
Aunt Amelia didn’t have any problem with bright colors, I see.
Walter would have hated it, but perhaps in this strange, bleaching desert light, colors had to be bright to keep from being scoured away.
There was a fireplace in the corner, although it looked more like a growth in the wall than the traditional brick-and-mantel arrangement. The only bricks ran in a line at the bottom, dusted with ash.
Well. First things first.
She went to the sink. The counter tiles were deep blue, the same color as the ones at the post office. She turned the faucet on.
For a long moment there was nothing, and then the faucet spat like an angry cat. (She heard Copper jerk upright out on the porch. Copper might not be familiar with jackrabbits, but she knew all about cats.)
The pipes made banging noises and the faucet shuddered as if it were going to take off into space. Selena cringed. Sometimes the pipes at the deli got air in them and they made awful noises, but they didn’t usuallyshakeso badly ...
Another loud spitting noise. Copper let out a suspicious woof. Then a rumble and a drip of brown came out of the tap, accompanied by another round of banging.
She left it to run for a minute and studied the stove.
Most of the cupboards sat flush with the floor, but the stove was a little electric model, only two burners, that stood up about three inches off the floor. Brightly painted Talavera tiles formed a backsplash behind the range.
Check under the stove for snakes,Grandma Billy had said.
She looked around the room. No flashlight. There was a distinct lack of anything that might serve as snake-wrangling equipment ... except ...
The broom by the back door had seen better days. Bristles stuck out in all directions. But the handle was solid, and Selena wanted space between her and anything that might be living under the stove.
She knelt down and slid the broom into the dark.
If something hisses, I drop the broom and go tie Copper up. Um. Then ... um ...
I suppose I go back and ask Grandma Billy how to deal with snakes.
But nothing hissed, except for the air in the pipes. Selena dragged the broom back out, weak-kneed with relief.
The faucet gave an especially loud bang and water came out.
It was ugly and brownish and left gritty marks on the white porcelain sink, but it was water. Selena sagged against the counter. If she’d been less tired, she would have cheered.
She let it run for a minute, feeling guilty about wasting water in the desert. Eventually it ran clear and she filled Copper’s bowl and drank from her own cupped hands.
Copper came inside the house for water. Selena fished out her last three granola bars. She ate one and fed two to the dog, who snuffled along her fingers to make sure that she wasn’t holding out.
“That’s it,” Selena said. “We’ll have to go to the church, I guess ... or maybe there’s a store in town to buy food ...” Twenty-seven dollars wasn’t much, but surely she could buy dog food with it.
The green door must lead to the back garden. She didn’t have the energy to go back out in the heat and look. She looked at the fireplace instead, which still had half-burned logs in it and a dull gray film of ash.
There were two square recesses in the wall by the fireplace. They reminded Selena of the little niches that held statues of saints. One was empty, and the other held a rather ugly doll.
Is that a kachina doll?Selena had seen a museum exhibit with kachinas once. They had all been gorgeous, vital-looking pieces, as if the artist had caught the dancer in mid-turn. They had been carefully and lovingly painted, given tiny rattles or bits of fur to hold in their hands. This one was drab, with spiky hair, a chin that went down halfway to its belt, a wispy beard, and no apparent feet or legs. The museum kachinas had all been dancing.
Well, maybe there’s a reason those were museum pieces. Or more likely, it’s not a kachina at all, just some random art she picked up.
Selena opened the violet door and poked her head into the bedroom.
An old iron-frame bed cast thin shadows on the wall, which was covered in some kind of map. There was a mattress with faded navy stripes on it, but no sheets. Another open door led to the bathroom, which stopped Selena in her tracks.
The toilet was . . .
