“Yup. Dad was Texan, born and raised.” On mentioning her father,
Jane’s eyes brightened. “After the war, he put in to get stationed at Fort Sam
Houston and the army gave him Fort Bliss.” She laughed. “But Dad always
said anywhere in Texas was better than Louisiana, Florida, or the damned
North, for God’s sake.” She shook her head, then looked up. “You ain’t got
family in New York or Massachusetts or anything, right? Can’t tell by accent
these days. Have to excuse me. I had a bad run- in with a Jersey pizza baker.
Left a sour impression.”
“No offense taken,” said Reba.
She had a distant cousin who went to Syracuse University and ended up
staying in New York for keeps. Her family couldn’t imagine how anybody
could stand the cold winters and conjectured that the bitter temperature
imbued itself on the people, too. Reba had only visited the Northeast a
handful of times and always in the summer. She was partial to warm regions.
The people in them always appeared tanned and smiling— happy.
“I’m from down south. Virginia. Richmond area,” she said.
“What’s a ‘Ginia girl doing out here?”
“Lure of the Wild West.” She shrugged. “I came to write for Sun City
magazine.”
“Well, shoot. They recruit that far?” Jane fl ipped her cleaning rag over
her shoulder.
“Not exactly. I thought I’d start here and eventually make my way to
California— L.A., Santa Barbara, San Francisco.” It was a dream that still
made her restless with hope. Reba shifted her weight in the chair. “Two
years later, I’m still here.” She cleared her throat. She was doing all the talking
when what she needed was for Jane to start.
“I understand, honey.” Jane took a seat at the café table and set her lavender
cleaner on the ground. “This is a border town, for sure, a transient,
crossover place, but some never get to crossing. Stuck in between where
they were and where they were headed. And after a few years go by, nobody
can recall their original destination anyhow. So here they stay.”
“That’s quotable.” Reba tapped her pen. “But you’ve lived here awhile,
correct?”
“All my life. Born at Beaumont Hospital on Fort Bliss.”
“So where are you headed if you’re already home?”
Jane smiled. “Just ‘cause you’re born in a place don’t make it home.
Sometimes I watch the trains go by and wish I could jump on. Watch the
planes scratch the blue and wish I was inside. Mom’s always called me
a daydreamer, a stargazer, a rambler— whatever I am, I wished to God I
wasn’t. Dreaming doesn’t do me a bit of good.”
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