The Land of Oz

They were rolling down Highway 160, as fast as the old Ford could take them, the desert flatlands giving way to soft hills and dales, the browns and reds of the earth to the greens and yellows of grass, trees, fields of wheat, corn and alfalfa, from the random richness of nature to the ordered marks of man.

The route would take them through Ulysses and Hickok, where they would head north through the Buffalo Game Reserve to Garden City, Kansas, home of Ruby’s grandmother and the land of childhood dreams.

Ruby had no childhood – not really. Her father left when she was a girl. Her mother was obsessed with the wrong kind of men, drugs and alcohol. Ruby survived to her teenage years when she was pronounced incorrigible and shipped off to her grandparents in Garden City. By the time she finished high school and set out on her, she lost contact with her mother, her father and everyone else with a family connection.

Since her grandfather died several years back, grandmother was the only family Ruby had and she felt a burning desire, after leaving Third Mesa, to take her in her arms, to hold her once more, to look into the mirror of time, to rekindle the dying flame of family.

"I’ve been meaning to ask you something," said Ruby.

"What’s that?"

"When I picked you up back in California, I could have sworn you were broke."

Jake laughed. "I won a bet in Vegas."

"That was you, the royal flush?"

Jake nodded.

"Why aren’t we on a plane to Aruba?"

"I only had a dollar," he explained.

"Figures," Ruby reflected. She studied him as if he was a player, to see if she could read him. "You like to gamble, Jake?"

"Like the white man says," he smiled, "Indians love to gamble…only I hate to lose."

Ruby’s mind was racing ahead. There was a riverboat casino that ran from St. Louis to New Orleans. She had seen pictures and dreamed of a cruise down the Mississippi with all the comforts, flash and excitement of Vegas.

"You’ve got to believe, baby," she said. "Believing is everything. I’ve seen a man knock down a bull, a crow fly like an eagle, and a little girl stare down a beast the size of a bear. The power of belief is everything."

Jake knew at a glance Ruby was on a roll and there was no stopping her.

"We head over to St. Louis, catch the Mississippi Queen, and head on down to New Orleans. We hit ‘em on the Queen, hit ‘em in New Orleans, head on over to Biloxi and him ‘em again. The sky’s the limit, baby, and we’re rolling nothing but sevens!"

"Whatever you say, baby," said Jake.

"No, Jake, I’m serious. You have to believe."

He gave her time to examine him like a mystified doctor until she grasped the depth of his sincerity.

"I believe in you, Ruby. I believe."

Jake and Ruby: nothing could stop them. They had the magic of destiny and the medicine of the crow. They were a force of nature, undeniable and pure. Like Bonnie and Clyde, Cisco and Poncho, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, they were bound for glory on the road of adventure and nothing could stand in their way.

"Got a wide open road and a wide open sky! Got the four winds blowing through my mind! Got moonbeams shining in my wide open eyes! Mercury’s in the house of wonder and my baby’s got a crow on his shoulder! What more can a woman ask?’

She edged over to Jake, put her arms around his shoulders, pressed her body against him and tickled his ear with her breath.

"What do you say we pull in to the next motel? Grandma can wait," she whispered.

Rounding a slow curve, Jake happily obliged, checking into cabin number nine at a Sleepy Time motel. Life was good.

They spent the sweet hours of night making love and the rest of the time playing poker over chips and beer. Ruby taught him all she knew: Tell signs, markers, who to play against and who to play with, when to play slow and when to go for the kill.

"Have you ever been in love?" she asked as he settled in the grip of her embrace.

"I’m in love with you," he replied.

"Have you ever been in love before?" she asked.

He had known love before but it burned in his heart. It was a love took root in his gut and haunted his soul. It was more than a year since her passing but not a day passed without a glance, a smile, a word, the sight of a yellow moon, or the turning of a page reminded him of her. In so many ways, Ruby reminded him. Love reminded him. Passion reminded him. The softness of her touch and the pull of her loins reminded him. Everything reminded him until he prayed to let go, to let her memory be washed away, to let her love be buried in the sea of yesterday.

"I’m in love with you now," he said and said no more.

They slept a few hours, awoke with clear minds, and covered the last stretch of asphalt to grandma’s house and the Land of Oz. Ruby was glowing. The radiance of her spirit made the bright Kansas sun pale and tepid. Destiny’s child, Alice in Wonderland, Dorothy and her ruby red slippers, the magic and wonder and beauty of believing.

On the road to Garden City, at the turnoff to grandma’s house, they were greeted by four crows on a telephone line, scattering in all directions as they passed. Jake looked at Ruby but saw that she was already gone, on a journey of memories. In her life in LA or Las Vegas, she never mentioned her family. She said she was an orphan, transferred from foster home to foster home from Chicago to Seattle. She never spoke of her childhood and no one ever pressed her.

The bond between Ruby and her grandmother was profound yet foreboding. Ruby was afraid. Afraid of what? Afraid of losing that last connection to the bloodline? Afraid of not belonging? Afraid of losing the innocence of unconditional love? Afraid of being captured by love and losing her free spirit?

She remembered dancing in sprinklers on hot summer days, playing with imaginary playmates, opening her eyes to see her grandmother’s loving smile through the kitchen window. She remembered rag dolls, the breakfast of champions, malto meal, hot chocolate, cowboy coffee, fudge brownies and oatmeal cookies. She remember falling asleep, dreaming of boyfriends and wild adventures, safe in her grandmother’s arms.

Ruby smiled in reflection and tears suddenly streamed from her eyes. Jake pulled over and held her until the trembling subsided.

"Something has happened," she said.

Jake already knew. He saw the shadow of death surround her like a thick, dark mist. Ruby did not believe in death. She believed it was only a passage, a doorway, a transformation of the life spirit. She believed that good people would be blessed in transformation and bad people would be cursed. She knew that her grandmother would be blessed but she yearned to see her one last time, if only to say thank you and goodbye.

When they pulled up to the old farmhouse, there were cars parked in the gravel driveway, children playing quietly in the shade of a willow, faces long with grief and through the window Ruby’s long lost mother, painted in sorrow.

They walked into the shadow of mourning and Ruby’s mother gasped, taking hold of her hands, whispering, "She’s been asking for you."

She walked to the bedroom door as the world turned gray and slowed to a crawl, as if it could hold back time and the hand of god. She swallowed the bitter pill of destiny and bit down hard on her lower lip as if pain could ease sorrow.

She saw death in her grandmother’s eyes. In that moment, she was gone and Ruby saw the light. A fluttering butterfly, a soaring bird of prey, rounded its way to heaven’s gate, the smiling, radiant face of love.

"Maemah," she whispered. "I love you."

Her hand reached out to grasp Ruby’s and then she was gone. Her mission complete, her last act of love a final goodbye to her favorite child.

It was beyond Ruby’s control and beyond her comprehension. She made peace with her mother, listened to stories of affection, and heard someone say, "There’s no place like home." It was the Land of Oz and the eternal dream of belonging but she did not belong and she knew she never would.

"Where’s Jake?" she asked suddenly.

"He went for a walk about an hour ago," someone said.

Ruby found him sitting in the bed of the pickup, back to the cab.

"What are you up to, Sailor?"

Jake was in a daze, swimming in a sea of chaos, particles of random energy, molecular disarray, spirals of starlight, mind over body, body over mind, the fire of all existence like a magnet to his soul.

"I was watching the stars and it occurred to me," he replied. "Maybe Einstein didn’t discover relativity. Maybe he invented it."

Ruby laughed until she cried and wiped away the tears.

"Thanks for that, Jake."

"You have a choice," he said. "You have a home."

Ruby looked at the house of her grandparents, a house that was once filled with love and kindness, and caught the glancing eye of her mother.

"You’re right about that, Jake," she replied, "but it isn’t here."

She took the wheel, Jake followed in the passenger’s side, and they drove off into the warm, silent Kansas night.

She turned the radio on and hit the dash with her fist.

EXT. HIGHWAY – DRIVER’S VIEW – NIGHT

Neil Young’s THE PAINTER comes to the fore as the headlights shine on the dotted line.

I have my friends eternally
We left our tracks in the sound
Some of them are with me now
Some of them can’t be found

It’s a long road behind me…