Sunday, March 4, 2012

Outpost 3

They sat on the deck in silence save for the sipping of their coffee, watching the day's newborn sun come up from behind the Glass Mountains, turning them into a glowing behemoth risen from the Permian Basin like an island on fire. The dog came around, sniffed the boots mudcaked from the previous day's walk up Alamito Creek, then sat between them, tail tapping the old hardwood in a happy drumbeat until settling.

He asked if she'd heard the coyotes in the night and she nodded. She asked if he remembered the dream that had him talking in his sleep.

No. What was I saying?

Something about Paris, she said, then asked if he'd ever been.

No. You?

She shook her head, putting her hand atop his on the arm of the chair. He turned his palm up and took her fingers into his.

The Amtrak leaving for Del Rio blew its horn, bringing the dog's head up from its paws. She turned back to the sunrise just as he turned to her, so that her silver and turqouise rattlesnake earring dangled and swayed like a lure, and he asked her. Te casarĂ­as conmigo?

She smiled, putting her coffee down, thinking, finally looking at him, nodding.

Okay, he said. Good. He kissed her cheek and stood up. Mas cafe?

Si. Gracias.

She touched his jeans as he left and her eyes and the dog followed him in.