"A picture. I want to see."
She rooted in her purse for her wallet, wondering at the same time if this were a good idea. Couldn't he just grab it out of her hand? That's silly, she thought. Where would he go? She opened her wallet with one hand and dug out a photo of a young man in camouflage fatigues. She handed it to Enoch. The man in the picture had blond hair and a weak chin. The badge over his pocket said, "Johnston."
Enoch tossed the photo faceup on the dashboard. "So, you and Larry planning to have kids?"
"Why do you keep asking me about Larry?"
"Fine. Let's talk about me."
Marilee wondered what she should ask him. She wanted to ask what it was like to be a dwarf, but the words stuck in her throat. "Okay. Tell me about the fire. In Kingston."
"Kingfield," said Enoch. "Another time." A bug spattered against the windshield and left a yellow-green smear like the feathered tail of a comet. "I've got one," he said. "If a tree falls in the forest and nobody's there to hear it, does it make a sound?"
"Talk about clichés."
"Yes, but does it?"
"It's a moot question. Without a witness, there's no way to know."
"I think it does," said Enoch.
" Based on what?"
"Track record. All trees that have ever fallen in the presence of people who can hear have made a sound. That means something."
"But one that falls in a deserted forest might fall silently. You can't prove that it doesn't. That's not logic."
"Then you rely on faith."
"What's faith got to do with it?"
"Where logic fails," said Enoch, "that's where faith steps in. Sometimes that's all you've got. You've got to have faith in the laws of physics and you've got to have faith in people. Remember that line?" he asked, turning to face her across the front seat. "At the end of Manhattan, remember? Mariel Hemingway says that to Woody Allen. 'You gotta have a little faith in people.' Great line. Sums up the whole movie."
They continued east on Interstate 10, through Tucson, past Benson and Willcox. The sign at the border said, "Welcome to New Mexico. Land of Enhancement." Enoch curled up beside the melons and fell asleep as darkness consumed the landscape. He slept through Marilee's stop for gas in Lordsburg. He slept through the convoy of trucks that rumbled past them just east of Las Cruces. When he awoke, hours later, they were near White Sands Missile Range. Red and blue lights flashed in the rearview mirror.
Enoch stretched his legs and bolted upright. What he said startled her. He said, "You're a woman and I'm a dwarf. Woody is neither. I've got to pee."
The cop crawled out of the backseat of Marilee's car. "We got a speed limit here, miss," he said. "Try and stay under it." He tore the ticket from his pad and handed it to her with a smile. "Thanks," said Marilee. "For what?" asked Enoch. As the cop drove west, Enoch went in search of a bush. He didn't use his crutches, and he wobbled as he walked. Marilee leaned against her front
fender and stared off into the distant lights of Alamogordo. She hated getting tickets, hated cops almost as much as she hated herself for having been so accommodating. She tried to think of a reason why this had been Enoch's fault but couldn't. In a moment, he returned.
Marilee opened her driver' s-side door. When the interior light came on, she saw it down in her footwell. It was a pale scorpion, translucent almost, with two dark stripes running the length of its body. She drew back and motioned for Enoch to come over. How did it get there? How could it have crawled inside a car ten inches off the ground? Had the cop somehow brought it in? Or had it been hiding in some cranny of Enoch's backpack? Perhaps it had been there the whole time, down by her feet as she drove east from Los Angeles.
"Get it out," she whispered.
"Easy," he cautioned. He reached down into the footwell and gently prodded the creature. It crawled onto his stubby fingers. Marilee froze. Was this guy stupid or just plain crazy? She wondered, for a moment, if Enoch might try something funny like flinging it at her or insisting she touch it. She took another step backward.
The thing crawled into Enoch's palm. He lifted it out of the footwell, but instead of tossing it into the desert, he held it in his hand. Enoch looked at the scorpion. The scorpion looked back. Its legs seemed bulbous and awkwardly hinged, as if the result of some miscue of nature. It uncoiled its tail and rose up on its legs. Marilee felt she was going to throw up.
"Get rid of it," she whispered. A trickle of sweat ran down between her breasts.
"In a minute."
The scorpion's tail arched high over its head, its stinger suspended like a hooked needle; its pincers cocked, front and open. Standing in the light of the car's doorway, Enoch studied the creature, staring it down as if daring it to strike. A passing semi whipped dust in their faces, but neither of them flinched. Each stood poised for battle. Each bided his time, eyeing the other as though they shared some indelicate secret with which Marilee could presume no intimacy.
Finally, the scorpion lowered its tail. Enoch placed it in the dirt by the side of the highway, where it crawled to safety beneath a broken Styrofoam cup.
They continued east toward Alamogordo. In less than an hour they would arrive and she would say goodbye to Enoch, dropping him off at the Y, perhaps, or maybe at a shelter. Then she would get out her map and find Larry's street. She would knock on his door in the middle of the night, and he would open it and take her into his arms.
Marilee stepped down harder on the accelerator. Her muscles ached from driving; her lips tasted of salt. Brown dirt lodged in the cracks between her toes. "I could use a shower," she said, more to herself than to her companion.
"A pool!" said Enoch. "I know a place. On the road to El Paso. It's not far. I'll show you."
A pool sounded wonderful. Clean water in which she could bathe. Cool water in which she could float away under the stars. But it was out of the question. "I didn't bring a bathing suit."
"Swim naked."
Marilee felt a tightness grip her stomach. So this was it. This was where he'd jump her. Where he'd slip his little thing into her like a snake gliding into wet moss, and she'd end up with a little dwarf child she'd have to name Elwyn. And why not? Hadn't she picked him up off the side of some road? What jury would believe her? They'd say she'd asked for it, wanted it even.
Yet a pool sounded wonderful. It was after midnight. Her hair stuck to the back of her neck like a clump of seaweed. It would be a shame for Larry to see her like this. Besides, she was bigger than Enoch. Stronger, probably, too. A pool was just what she needed. She would swim in her underwear.
"So tell me about the fire," she said.
"No."
"You said you would. 'Later,' is what you said. I'd like to hear." Marilee glanced across the seat at Enoch. His nose looked thicker in the darkness, and his face showed the first signs of stubble. "I told you about Larry," she reminded him.
"Fire!" shouted Enoch, so startling her that she nearly swerved over the center line. " Burst of light! Fireball! Like a bomb going off ! Butane. Storage tank. Erupted. Too much heat!" He was sitting on the edge of his seat, breathing hard and painting the fire with his hands. "Blowout! Exploded! Whole sky on fire!" His hand hit the rearview mirror. "Twelve people died. Twelve. Firemen," he said. "Too much heat."
Enoch stopped for a moment. He rubbed his eyes and scooted back on the seat so that his legs stuck straight out over the edge. "Rumors started," he continued, his voice lower now. "Children. You know how it is. Kids talk. Adults listen. Always the same. You're bound to be suspect if you're not like them. Grew up in that town. Guess they needed me."
Enoch stared silently at the oncoming headlights.
"I'm sorry," said Marilee.
"For what?"
"For