This is all going to end badly, I thought. I just have to have a heart to heart conversation with Mrs. Westington. I turned Echo around, but she kept looking back hopefully as we returned to the part of the mall where her grandmother had been talking to an old friend. Trevor Washington had already joined her when we arrived.
"Where did you two go?" she asked.
I glanced at Trevor, hoping he hadn't seen us, and then I told her I just wanted to show Echo the Nature store.
"Oh, well maybe we should go there and get her something," she suggested.
"Actually, we're both hungry," I claimed.
"Oh?" She looked at Echo. I knew she could see the unhappiness in her face. I had been with her a short time and already I knew how to read her moods and feelings. Mrs. Westington looked at me as well. I'm not good at lying or covering things up either. I thought. She knew it, but she played along.
"Okay, let's go have something to eat," she said.
We went to a restaurant in the mall. I ordered a salad. Echo was still upset about Tyler, but the excitement of eating in a rest
aurant overtook that for the moment. She wanted a cheeseburger and a Coke, which was something she never had at the house, of course. Afterward, we bought her a chocolate frozen yogurt. I could see that if I didn't order one as well, she'd be upset. so I did, but when neither of them were looking. I dumped it in a garbage can. Buying myself new clothes reinforced my determination to diet. I'm going to shed pounds. I vowed. I didn't need Brenda on my back or Tyler Monahan's attention to get me to do it. either.
Laden down with packages and bags, we returned to the station wagon,
"You wanna drive?" Trevor asked me. It took me by surprise, but I could see Echo thought it was amusing and even exciting. I looked at Mrs. Westington.
"The man's getting lazy," she said, glaring at him. "Just don't go speeding," she warned.
As we headed home, our route took us through Healdsburg and we went by what Trevor told me was Tyler Monahan's retail outlet. I slowed down, tempted to pull over and have us all go in. He couldn't ignore us then. I thought.
"Maybe we should stop by and say hello," I suggested. "I'd like to see their store."
"It's nothing," Mrs. Westington said quickly. "It's just another shop with overly priced things for tourists. Ed never buy anything there."
I drove on, glancing in the rearview mirror at Echo, who sat staring out. How confusing the world was to her, trapped in silences she couldn't
understand. We who could hear and hear well had difficulty with silences as it was. No matter how well I could sign, no matter how well she could read my lips, there were so many things lost between us. Interpret Tyler
Monahan's look and silence for her? I couldn't do it for myself.
I knew when we arrived home. Mrs.
Westington would interrogate me about Echo's sadness, but as it turned out, she didn't have a chance. There was another surprise awaiting her, awaiting us all.
When we turned up the driveway, we saw an old van that looked like it had been tie-dyed, a leftover from the sixties flower people days. One of the rear lights was battered and broken. The bumper was tied on with wires and the rear windows were so caked and clouded with dirt and grime, no one could possibly look out of them.
"Who's this now?" Mrs. Westington asked as we pulled alongside the van.
There was no one standing outside and from what we could see, no one in the van.
"I hope it's not someone coming to sample wine or buy one of your cases." she told Trevor. "Word gets out there's a restricted amount of a wine around here and everyone starts inquiring. Nothing sells like hard to get," she remarked.
"I haven't told a new soul about our wine. I just have my regular customers and there's not enough of our wine to expand the sales."
"Not our wine. Your wine. Mr. Vineyard," she told him. He started to laugh.
The sight of the strange van brought some life back into Echo's face. We were all very curious. When we stepped out of the station wagon, we peered into the van and saw what looked like makeshift beds in the rear. The front seat and passenger seat were torn, the stuffing pouring out. There were empty beer bottles scattered about and wrappers from food as well as some clothing. On the dashboard was a paper plate with what looked to be the remnants of a pizza.
"It must be driven by hogs," Mrs. Westington said. She looked about. "Where are these people? Why are they on my property? Maybe we should call the police immediately." she told Trevor.
He nodded and started toward the front steps and then stopped, holding up his hand.
"What?" Mrs. Westington asked.