| Michelle Grant |
| The Last Arizona Tumbleweed
Darkness poured through the barren little valley, gradually coating each rock and cactus with cool relief from the passing desert day. Twilight faded and an inky spring night lingered over the Arizona earth. Far below the tiny stars, a lonely house sat near the quiet highway. Nina Garcia stood inside the kitchen, scrubbing the last pan from dinner. Her hands were covered in soap suds, and she worked quietly, reflecting on the day and lamenting over the broken dishwasher. Work didn�t bother her, but she would be glad to have a chance to scribble down the story ideas she�d been working on and ponder ways to coax Fernando into trying again for a baby. She�d read that one miscarriage, even in a very healthy young woman, wasn�t necessarily a cause for concern. Perhaps they could even move closer to town so the child could make friends. A sharp bark echoed through the yard, and Nina jumped. The pan she�d been holding crashed to the floor. Her heart pounding, Nina slowly leaned down to the floor and picked up the pan. The barking was getting more frantic. It wasn�t like Paco to bark over nothing. Suddenly, a cold seized through her as she remembered her husband outside, working in the garage. She�d told him a thousand times that the jack looked way too small to hold the car up, and if something had happened�she�s better go see what Paco was barking at. Letting the pan smash back to the floor, Nina wiped her hands on her apron and ran outside. The screen door clacked back shut behind her as she jogged carefully through the dirt to where she heard Paco�s urgent snarls. The moon was half gone tonight and Nina was careful not to trip in the dark. A slight wind has gathered while she was inside, and goose bumps pricked over her bare arms and legs. The yellow sundress that had seemed so appropriate during the day was burdensome now. She saw Paco near a large patch of tall desert brush, tail swinging wildly. Rushing forward, Nina called the dog and gently patted him on the back. �Paco! What�s the matter boy? � she asked, speaking to him in her soft Spanish to calm him. He ignored her. As she made her way to the German shepherd�s head, she leaned around a cumbersome Agave and let out a shrill yelp of fright. An airy ball of tumbleweed had come to rest against a small group of cacti a few feet ahead of Paco. The weed was glowing with an emerald haze that seemed to wax and wane in a dim pulse. A gust of wind hissed through the area and made the arms of the tumbleweed shiver and blow slightly. It seemed to be waving at her. Nine felt a hot lump of saliva struggle down her throat. �Paco�� she whispered, trying to silence the barking. She grasped his leather collar and tugged him back a foot or so. �Paco, come on. We need to find Fernando.� A shaking weight touched her shoulder, and Nina screamed shortly as she turned. Fernando stood next to her, staring at the tumbleweed with his mouth hanging slightly open. He licked his lips and blinked hard, as though trying to clear the glowing green image from his sight. The air tasted bitter and grains of sand began to whip through the air and sting their faces. A coyote howled somewhere not far away, and suddenly Paco stopped his tirade of growls. Everything fell very quiet except for the wind whistling through the brush. A sense of dread filled their hearts. Fernando put his arm protectively around his wife. �I�ll put a tarp over it or something. Take Paco inside. I�ll be there in just a minute.� Nina tugged Paco�s collar again and they jogged together back to the house. As she sat at the small round dining table, Nina shivered and ran her hands along the dog�s soft, pointed black ears. She wanted to know exactly what was wrong with that thing outside. She�d never seen anything like it before. Out in the desert, nothing glowed but the moon and the stars and the occasional passing semi truck on its way to or from Mexico. She wondered who they would call, and who would believe what they�d found. |
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