We had made a plan to leave Paradise Ranch before Mother’s trial. It wasn’t safe for Mother to pretend to be Eleanor in the Hill Country; certainly the nuns would catch on. Eleanor had said her goodbyes. In their minds, Eleanor had quit being a nun and would take care of me elsewhere. Before the trial, we would pack bags and be prepared to stay in town with Joe Brewer. I still held out hope that we might win in court, but if we lost then Mother and I would live in town. But I would lose Eleanor.
Bunny had to be cared for. Frank had agreed, happily, to take him. It was the right thing to do. I couldn’t keep him. Like Eleanor giving up her son, I had to do what was best for my pig. He couldn’t live in a high-rise or a city or wherever we ended up in life. He deserved better, and that meant living with Frank.
The day before Mother’s trial, I took my pig to the Red Eye. Frank was pumping gas when we came up the road. I walked over with a big smile on my face. Act as if, and the feelings will follow. My mean grandmother always said that, and she was right sometimes. But I wasn’t nearly as happy as the smile on my face. Still, it kept me from crying.
“Bunny!” Frank hooked the nozzle back and swung her big arm. “Come see what I built you, my friend.”
Right beside the building, under the big bloodshot eyeball, she had made a pen with a trough for food. It had a hose to fill the water bucket and she had made Bunny a big sloppy mud puddle. He was much too big for me to pick up anymore, so I kneeled down beside him and wrapped both arms around his neck. Our hearts beat together for a few brief moments, then I let go and stood up. Bunny waddled into his new pen and rolled over in the mud, as happy as I had ever seen him.
Frank propped the gate open with a cinder block. “He’s smart enough to roam free. I’ll just tuck him in at night to keep him safe. Is that okay with you, Ruby Clyde?”
I handed Frank the $257.
“What’s this, Sugar Foot?”
“Some I had, most I made here washing trucks; I want you to have it.”
She was about to refuse, but I pushed on. “I’m a girl who needs to do things. You’re taking my pig for me, and I want you to have this money. Spend it on him if you wish, but just take it. Please.”
She did.
And that is how I left my pig. Under the big eye that had seen that whole part of my life, one that I would shortly leave behind. Bunny. Living at the Red Eye Truck Stop, where he would spend the rest of his days lolling in the mud by Frank’s door and winking at cowboys who stopped for gas or food. No Cadillac, no bacon. Life had worked out for Circus God’s pig.
* * *
That afternoon, I asked Eleanor what would happen if Mother were not found guilty at trial. “You all seem so sure that we will lose. What if Mother doesn’t lose and you don’t have to go to prison?”
She said, “That, dear child, would be a delightful problem.”
“And if you go to prison, what will you do?”
“I will minister to the incarcerated women,” she said, as if she had given that much thought. “It is not often that we are given the opportunity to make a true sacrifice. You know, Ruby Clyde, people argue about the Bible all the time, making it serve their own agendas, but one thing is perfectly clear. Jesus got up on that cross. And instead of getting on a cross for others, we run around saying Jesus died for me, me, me, but that’s a bit selfish, don’t you think?”
“Can I visit you in prison?” I bypassed the Bible lesson because I was missing her already.
She laughed gently. “I don’t know. I’m going to be pretty busy at my new calling.”
“I’m serious. I want to see you.”
“We can write letters and talk on the telephone, but I think you’ve seen enough of the legal system for a lifetime.”
I started to cry. There was nothing left in me to hold back the tears.
“Tears are good, baby. You don’t need to visit on my account, truly. If you really need to see me, then Joe Brewer can bring you. But I deeply hope that you will be busy with the new life we have worked so hard to give you.”
Later, Mother and I rocked on the front porch and then she tucked me into bed, but I couldn’t sleep. It was a moonless night so my room was pitch-black dark. No matter how wide I opened my eyes, it was a wall of black. And my mind wouldn’t stop. What if, what if, what if …
Finally I got out of bed and tiptoed into Aunt Eleanor’s room. I knew it might be a very long time before we were together again. I slipped in beside her and snuggled up close to her back and tried to breathe with her. She stirred, saw that I was there with her, then adjusted the bedding to cover me up. She didn’t seem worried at all. So I decided not to worry either.
All good things come to an end, my mean grandmother always said. But you know what? All bad things come to an end too.