We drove to Arizona this morning, to the Constellation Campground.”
Nora looked down at the recorder in her lap, watched the tape spin slowly through its little plastic window. She didn’t have the money to record in a booth with the foam on the walls like Dolly or Bowie, so she’d bought the tape deck to record herself singing in the bathroom where the acoustics were best. In recent years, she’d hardly ever used it. In fact, the only reason it was in the car with her was because she’d lent it to a friend the week before.
Nora considered what to say next—what, if anything, future her would need to know. “The feeling you are having right now will pass. It always does.”
A knock on the driver’s-side window startled her, and she turned to see Finn waving at her through the glass. “Are you recording a song?” her daughter asked as Nora opened the door.
“Uh, no. Not exactly.” Nora quickly changed the subject. “Hey, do you want to help me pitch the tent?”
“Okay!”
Nora tucked the recorder under her arm and set it on the picnic table before kneeling down next to the tent she’d already spread out on the sand.
“See that hole?” Nora pointed to a grommet on the tent floor closest to Finn’s feet. “Put the end of the pole in there and hold it steady while I attach the sides.”
Finn followed Nora’s instructions and held the pole upright while her mom clipped the nylon sides to it. As they worked, a shadow from the rocks above crept slowly toward them. They had arrived at the Constellation Campground just in time to see the Martian-red cliffs catch fire in the evening sun.
“I like this place,” Finn said as Nora snapped the last of the fabric in place. “I like the way it sounds.”
Nora froze and listened to the wind piping through the fluted rocks; a colony of quail chirping in a patch of prickly pear; the rustling of the cottonwood trees. “Cool, huh?”
Finn nodded.
“How about you, Zadie?” Nora called to her other daughter, who was seated at a picnic table reading a book. “What do you think of this place?”
Without lifting her eyes, she replied, “It’s all right.”
Nora sighed and turned back to her youngest. “I don’t think your sister likes camping.”
She had forgiven Zadie for her surliness. After all, Nora had dragged her out of bed at seven in the morning on a weekend with no warning. She would have been grumpy, too, if her own mother had done that to her.
And confused. Nora knew her behavior had been erratic. That morning, it had almost felt like a ghost had taken over her body. Thankfully, neither of her daughters seemed particularly distraught, and she wanted to keep it that way.
Nora pulled the stakes out of their nylon bag and handed one to Finn. “Do you want to help hammer in the stakes?”
She nodded.
“Here…” Nora kneeled beside the tent and fed one of the stakes through its designated loop and into the grass. “Take this.” She handed Finn a rubber mallet. “Now hit it as hard as you can.”
A wildness flashed behind Finn’s eyes, the kind children get when they’re given permission to be destructive. She squatted like a toad in front of the stake and, using both hands, struck a wobbly blow to the head of the stake. “Nice one!” Nora cheered. “I should hire you to fix the squirrel hole in the deck.” Finn beamed and pounded on the stake again, pushing it another half-inch into the red earth.
They had finished with three of the stakes and were about to start the fourth when Nora’s hands began to tremble.Not again,she thought. It had taken all her energy to get through that morning’s episode. She was worried she didn’t have the strength to do it again. “Finn, honey, just leave that stake there. I’ll finish up.”
Finn pouted. “But I want to do it.”
“I know, but I have a better idea,” Nora said, trying to keep the alarm out of her voice. “How about you and your sister go explore the campground. You can take my tape player and record some sounds for me.”
Finn considered her mother’s offer. “Okay,” she chirped, dropping the mallet on the ground and running back to the fire ring. “Zadie! Mom says we gotta go record sounds for her!”
After a little muttering to herself, Zadie closed her book and followed her sister down the trail leading to the camp office. When they were out of sight, Nora crawled into the tent, curled onto her side, and tried not to cry out. Her body felt like it was ripping in two, like the fault line of her sternum was shifting inside her and all she could do was wait and hope whatever it was didn’t kill her.
Terror gripped her as she made a tight fist around the stake in her hand. As the pain escalated, she drove the stake downward, piercing a hole in the tent floor. Through clenched teeth, she repeated to herself, “This feeling will pass. It always does.”
“Sssssh!” Finn hissed at Zadie, pressing her finger to her lips. “Quit moving around.” She held the recorder inches from a striped lizard clinging motionless to a boulder.
“It’s a lizard. It doesn’t make noise,” Zadie grunted.
Finn answered her with a quick glare, then returned her attention to the tiny reptile. A moment later, the lizard skittered down the side of the rock and disappeared into the brush. “You scared it away!”