“Help what?” Karen asked.
“Help it all seem a little less scary,” said Imani.
Karen studied the joint. “I’ve never smoked marijuana.”
“Now’s a good time to start,” said Mercury.
“You could be right about that,” Karen said. “Show me what to do.”
As Mercury carried the lantern outside with her to the temporary restrooms, she was still giggling to herself about how absolutely hilarious Reefer Karen had been. She’d kept them laughing with anecdotes from her classroom that proved she’d had a sense of humor long before Mercury, or anyone else at Will Rogers High School, had realized it. Then, mid-story, the history teacher announced, I shall go night-night now. Night-night! She tumbled backward, hugged her backpack like a pillow, and within seconds began to snore softly.
Mercury quickly used the very rough facilities and then hurried back to the cave. The rainclouds had been blown away by a chilly northern wind to reveal a spectacular waning moon that was still almost full. The ebony sky was completely clear. It exposed a blanket of glitter that entranced Mercury. Just outside the entrance to the cave, she extinguished the lantern, leaned against the rough rock, and stared above her. She gasped as an enormous shooting star blazed to its death.
“You okay?” Ford’s deep voice made her jump.
“Oh my Goddess, you scared me!” Mercury fanned her face, not sure if the wine, the weed or the fright he’d given her had made her cheeks so hot.
“Sorry ‘bout that.” His white smile flashed in the darkness. “I heard you gasp and, well, I guess I’m not over what happened this morning.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure why I’m not more freaked out about it,” Mercury said. “Maybe it’ll hit me later.”
“I hope not.” Ford spoke so earnestly it made Mercury grin.
There was a movement several yards from them, and the moonlight illuminated the silhouette of a woman by the creek. She stood perfectly still on a little rise in the land. Her back was to them as she stared into the distance.
“Who’s that?” Mercury asked.
“Imani,” Ford said. “She went out just after you did.”
“She didn’t go to the bathroom area with me. I wonder if I should take the lantern to her.”
“I don’t think so. Gemma said she’s been doing that every night.”
“Doing what?” Mercury asked.
“Just staring. Gemma says she goes out by herself, turns to the southwest and stays like that—sometimes for hours. Do you have any idea why?”
“She’s facing San Diego, where she had two kids—babies really—and a husband she loved very much. She’s looking toward them.”
“Damn. That’s tough,” Ford’s voice was rough with emotion. “I didn’t know.”
“Imani acts like she’s okay, but she’s not,” Mercury said softly. “I hope someday she will be, though.”
“So do I.”
They stood side by side in silence until Mercury realized why Ford must have been outside the cave.
“Oh, did you come out here for the lantern?” Mercury lifted the dark lamp.
“No, I came out here so I could say goodnight to you before you went to bed.”
Mercury lowered the lantern and looked up at him. “You couldn’t say goodnight to me inside?”
“No,” Ford said softly. “Not like this.” He stepped closer to her and reached out to cup her face between his hands. Then he bent and gently pressed his lips to hers. The kiss wasn’t filled with passion; it was filled with promise. He whispered against her lips, “Buenas noches, Bellota. I am very glad you didn’t die.” He took the lantern from her suddenly limp grasp. “And I do appreciate this lantern. Gracias.”
As Mercury watched him disappear into the darkness, her fingers lightly touched her lips.