In the motel, while she waited for her laptop to boot up, she pitied herself enough to allow a moment of hope. This time there would be a message from Oğuz. This time she’d know everything was all right. Everything would be explained.
Not tonight.
She moved on. North of the Navajo lands she crossed into Utah. The map showed a “primitive area.” That would be rugged, solitary. She thought of Maria. That’s where I’ll go. The road was a single dirt lane, switchbacks along a cliff and she froze, unable to force herself to go on. There was no one behind her, no one to be impatient, no one to honk. No one to see if she went over the side. Who would find her? Who would know? She wanted to go back to the highway, but with no room to turn the car around, she had no choice. I can’t, she thought. But I have to. One deep breath, another. She drove.
There was a flat expanse of red dirt at Grand Gulch. Emine looked down into a giant amphitheater. Steps made for the legs of giants, sentinel rocks like torches, and down there, the slickrock bowl. Alone and reckless. Hair blowing in her eyes. Her body still trembling and vibrating from hours in the car. Stretching her leg down, thrown off-balance by her backpack, stumbling and righting herself with a hand on hot stone. Even with dark glasses, to look up at the sky was to be blinded. If she fell and was hurt, there was no one to help her. But she thought again of Maria, who was frightened only of people and what they can do.
It was all slickrock here, buffed to a shine, the gleaming red surface spilling in all directions. Not a person, a bird, an insect, a lizard, a snake. (Oh, Maria!) Arches and bridges.
In the distance, she saw vegetation and thought water. She walked on and found a small pond, more like a bright green puddle, just enough to support some desert grasses and one leafless bush. She drank from the bottle she carried till it was empty and then refilled it from the pond. Not to drink. This water should be tested, a beautiful bright maybe radioactive green.
The earth here did not breathe but she lay down anyway, burned her arms on sun-scorched stone, smooth as hot ice.
She thought to see herself mirrored in the polished surface but there was nothing. White glare, her face annihilated by the sun.