“Oh, there we go,” said Grandma. “Scorpion.”
“Scorpions?!”
“At least one of ’em.” She grinned. “Don’t worry. He ain’t a bark scorpion—those like a little more water, if they can get it. These’ll just itch if they sting you. We’ll build a fire and clean it out.”
Selena was torn between resistance to cooking anything alive and the fact that there were scorpionsin the house.
It’s only a few feet away! A real scorpion!
“Can I see it?” she asked.
“Sure, have a look.” Grandma rolled one of the ancient charred logs aside, revealing a low brown body with a fat, puffy tail. Selena had envisioned a wicked stinger held aloft, but this one’s tail was rolled to the side and looked a bit wilted.
“It’s big,” she said.
“The big ones are best. It’s the little ones that pack a wallop. Here, pretty sure I left some wood on the back porch.”
She opened the green door. Selena poked her head around the doorframe and exhaled in surprise.
The sun was setting over the desert. The sky had already gone deep blue overhead, but heavy bands of red and orange lingered in the east. On the left side of the property, the hill she had seen from the train platform rose up, stark black against the sky. A saguaro leaned out from the hillside, arms raised. It looked a bit like a boxer about to punch the sky, albeit one with three arms.
In the last red light, she could see that the stone wall ran back at least a hundred yards. The remains of garden beds were square shadows on the earth. The wall was topped up with chicken wire and broken by a ramshackle gate at the back.
A section of the back porch was screened with wire as well, and had a sizable stack of split wood piled up against the back wall. Grandma Billy sniffed.
“Now this likelyisfull of widows. And scorpions and anything else you want to name. Wear your gloves—I’ll loan you a pair—and if you get bit, you come get me. Walk, don’t run, though.” She grabbed two likely-looking logs and banged them together.
“Where does the wood come from out here?” asked Selena.
“Red cedar,” said Grandma. “Shit grows like a fiend and sucks up all the water it can. We go out and cut it down from around the creek every year, but seems like there’s always more.”
She brought the logs inside. Selena hovered, and finally steeled herself to ask, “Can we take the scorpion outside?”
Grandma Billy tilted a glance up at her. “You don’t want to cook it?”
“It’s not its fault that it’s here,” said Selena.Am I being stupid? If she says that you have to kill scorpions, she’s probably right, she knows the desert and I don’t ...
“Fair enough,” said Grandma. “See if I packed a spatula and bring me the frying pan.” She addressed the scorpion in the fireplace. “You’re getting your life by the grace of God, scorpion. Or the grace of Selena, anyhow. You be good and tell the others to stay out of her boots, you hear?”
“Does that work?”
“Probably not. Brains aren’t big enough to shove gratitude into. Still, never hurts to try.” She scooped the creature up with a spatula and shoved the frying pan handle into Selena’s hand. The scorpion sat inside the pan, looking sullen (although Selena was willing to admit that she might be projecting a bit).
“Um . . .”
“Well, go on, take him out front. Mind you, don’t step on any more of them while you’re dropping him off, though.”
Selena gulped.
The desert at night was very different. Things buzzed and chirped and rustled. Thin gray twigs caught the light like bones.
Copper wanted to help, and took “Stay! I mean it!” in poor grace. Selena inched out of the circle of light cast by the open door and held the frying pan as far away from her body as possible. “Um. Be a good scorpion. Just ... err ... go on your way ...”
She flipped the frying pan over and bolted back for the house.
Grandma Billy had finished laying the fire. “Here,” she said, holding out a match. “You light it. House needs to know you’re moving in.”
“I’m not staying forever,” protested Selena. “Just a few days. I just ...”Don’t talk about money. It’s rude to talk about money. Telling people you’re rich is crass and telling them you’re broke makes them uncomfortable.She trailed off.
