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I was so lost in that thought I missed what Mrs. P said and had to ask her to repeat it.
“I asked if you have enjoyed reading the dissertation I lent you.”
“Enjoyed? I wouldn’t say that. Your friend Ethel—”
“Esther.”
“Sorry. Esther had some details I hadn’t seen elsewhere about Oscar’s and Pearl’s early lives, as well as their early married lives and the beginning of their outlaw career, including what could be seen as her justifications for their actions. But Esther Ramalarga is short on details of what happened to Pearl after Oscar’s death and, especially, now that we know she was pregnant, that seems... well, I’d say slipshod. But there’s this odd undercurrent that she’s in on a joke that nobody else is.”
Neither reacted.
In fact, the complete lack of reaction became a kind of reaction.
I heard myself repeating, “That Esther Ramalarga’s in on a joke... Esther Ramalarga.”
Esther. Ethel. Etta...
I caught a look from Gee.
“What?” I asked her.
“Do you know what the Spanish phrase rama larga means in English?”
“Gisella—”
I spoke over Mrs. P’s protest. “Large something.”
“Long branch.”
“Long branch?” I repeated.
Gee clicked her tongue at my slowness. “Branch as in—”
“Bough,” I practically shouted. “B-O-u-g-h, as nearly b-A-u-g-h.”
Gee compressed her mouth, not prepared to answer, but satisfied with stirring my questions.
“Esther Ramalarga of Sherman, Wyoming — a schoolteacher, no less — and your mentor, Mrs. Parens. Was she really Etta Place, the significant other of Harry Longabaugh and previously a resident of Argentina and Bolivia?”
“I have always heard she spoke excellent Spanish,” Gee said.
“There is no proof whatsoever of such a connection.” Mrs. P sent Gee a disapproving look. “It is speculation at best.”
“But what did she say about it — Esther?”
“I never asked.”
CHAPTER FORTY
How do you respond to that?
Not ask?
Emmaline Parens appeared unperturbed by my astonishment, at the same time displaying impatience with my continued questions. I also displayed impatience — but with her lack of answers.
Gee broke the impasse, saying they were leaving to pursue errands.
“I’m not done with this,” I warned.
