The Four Winds

“He left,” Elsa said tiredly.

“Back to that damn tavern?” Tony said. “I told him—”

“No,” Elsa said. “He left Lonesome Tree. On a train. Or so I’m told.”

Rose stared at Elsa. “He left? No. He wouldn’t do that. I know he’s unhappy, but…”

“For God’s sake, Rose,” Tony said. “We are all unhappy. Dirt is raining from the sky. The trees are falling over dead. Animals are dying. We’re all unhappy.”

“He wanted to go to California,” Elsa said. “I said no. It was a mistake. I was going to talk to him about it, but…” She pulled the letter out of her pocket and handed it to them.

Rose took it in trembling hands and read it, her lips moving silently over the words. Tears filled her eyes when she looked up.

“Son of a bitch,” Tony said, crumpling the letter. “That’s what comes of coddling the boy.”

Rose looked stricken. “He’ll be back,” she said.

The three of them stared at each other. Absence could fill a room to overflowing, apparently.

The front door banged opened. Loreda and Ant came back with dirty hands and dirty faces and three small potatoes between them.

“It’s barely any use.” Loreda stopped. “What’s wrong? Who died?”

Elsa set down her glass. “I need to talk to you two.”

Rose put a hand over her mouth; Elsa understood. Saying these words aloud would change the children’s lives.

Rose pulled Elsa into a tight hug, then let her go.

Elsa turned to face the children.

Their faces unraveled her. Both of them were such spitting images of their father. She went to them, pulled them into her arms, both at once. Ant happily hugged her back. Loreda struggled to break free.

“You’re smothering me,” Loreda complained.

Elsa let Loreda go.

“Where’s Daddy?” Ant asked.

Elsa smoothed her son’s hair back from his freckled face. “Come with me.” She led them out onto the porch, where they all sat on the porch swing. Elsa pulled Ant onto her lap to make room.

“What’s wrong now?” Loreda said, sounding put-upon.

Elsa drew a breath, pushed off, let the swing rock backward and forward. Lord, she wished her grandpa were here to say, Be brave, and give her a little push. “Your father has left—”

Loreda looked impatient. “Oh, yeah? Where’d he go?”

And there it was. The moment to lie or tell the truth.

He’s taken a job out of town to save us. It would be easy to say, harder to prove when no money or letters came, when month after month, he didn’t come home. But they wouldn’t cry themselves to sleep, either.

Only Elsa would.

“Mom?” Loreda said sharply. “Where did Dad go?”

“I don’t know,” Elsa said. “He left us.”

“Wait. What?” Loreda jumped off the swing. “You mean—”