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“It says nothing about you, Ruby McKee, and everything about them. You were...a miracle.” But she didn’t say the word the way most people did. “And now you’re...well, the mascot of how great we all are. Not all of us, of course.” That was accompanied by a wry smile, stretched thin on Dana’s narrow face.
Ruby paused and stared at Dana, at the grooves in her forehead and between her brows, by her mouth, etched into her skin. And she saw the ghosts of laugh lines by her blue eyes. Evidence of joy that had passed away before those lines had become deep and decisive. The grooves worn the deepest were anger, sorrow.
“You don’t think I’m a miracle, Dana?” She tried to ask it in a light tone. Self-deprecating, even, but it came out...seeking, and Ruby was left embarrassed by it.
“You’re a smart, capable young woman with a good head on your shoulders, when it isn’t in the clouds. That’s a kind of miraculous, I suppose.” They carried on walking. “But... You know when they found you it was...it was like you were supposed to replace what we lost. And I suppose for them you did.”
Ruby’s stomach turned sour.
Caitlin.
Dana had never, ever talked to her about this before. And Ruby didn’t know why she was doing it now. Ruby wanted her to stop, in fact. Which she realized with a certain amount of horror and shame. Because she considered Dana a friend, and she should want to hear her hard truths, and here she was, wanting to cover her ears while the older woman spoke.
“Miraculous,” Dana said. “That’s what they thought and I... Ruby, it was a tragedy. I... I couldn’t believe some woman would leave her child, her baby, like that. Not after my own baby was taken from me. I...” Dana stopped walking and Ruby looked at her, expecting to see tears.
But she didn’t.
All she saw was anger.
“I couldn’t fathom who would do that. Who would...she left you to die.”
The words punctured Ruby’s stomach, made her feel deflated and hurt andtragic. And she wished she had covered her ears.
But she didn’t.
And Dana didn’t stop talking.
“Of course, my first thought was to blame her. But that’s what we do. It’s what we do.”
“What is?”
Dana looked her square in the face. “We blame the mother.”
Ruby hadn’t. Ruby hadn’t blamed anyone. She was...she had been rescued, and that was what counted, not the rest of it.
“I... I’m not angry about it,” Ruby said. “I’m just happy. I’m happy that I’m here. You know, not everyone gets to be so confident their life has a purpose. My life was saved and I... I’m meant to do something with it, I suppose.”
“My daughter’s life meant something too. And she’s still gone.”
Dana started to walk faster and Ruby had to trot to keep up, her each step making pain radiate in her chest. “I... I didn’t mean...”
“Settle down, I know you didn’t.” Dana sighed. “Everyone wants easy answers, easy fixes. You can’t fix tragedy.”
Then they were standing by Dana’s car, and Ruby didn’t know if she was relieved or sorry. “I guess I’ll see you Monday,” Ruby said.
“That is one thing I like about you,” Dana said. “I don’t scare you.”
Then she got into her car and left Ruby standing there feeling... Like Dana did in fact scare her.
But not half as much as the things she had said.
6
The March of Progress
BY JAN EBERSOL
MARCH 5, 1883—With the new railway comes new opportunities in Southern Oregon. The new Eden Valley Orchard in Medford has capitalized on this new era of export, and it seems the expansion is happening here too. The land owned by Thaddeus Brewer boasts 400 acres of pears, expected to be ready to harvest next season.
