"Olive moved it."
"What?" The cold slapped my face and sharpened me a bit. One flat
rectangle of moonlight lay on the grass. I was moving toward Adonie's
truck. We were. I felt her shoulders under my arm and her arms about
me. It was impossible but it felt like Adonie was nearly carrying me,
getting me to her truck. "Here," she said. "Sit. Watch your head." Her
hands guided me. Then she was folding a quilt about me tucking it
around my shoulders and close about my feet. For a moment her palm
rested against the side of my face.
"Olive, will you be all right in the back?" she asked. There was no answer
but that was no surprise. The truck's engine started.
"What?"
"What what," Adonie said. "Keep your head back on the seat where I put
it. You got a good bash over your eye. It didn't stop you
though. Not you."
"What about the smell?"
"It was the lamp. It was starting to scorch the rug. Olive moved it."
"Oh, fine." The house was probably burning to the ground.
"We're going to Molly's. Just stay where you are. The clinic said she was
on her way home."
I don't know what Adonie expected. Did she think I would climb out the
window and dance on the hood? I closed my eyes. Vibrations. The drone
of the truck. The strobe of time. I meant lights. Every now and then a
streetlight, as we entered town.
