As Izzy walked, the road's loose-lying dirt puffed like low clouds, powdering her legs with dust.  The movement, her movement, was soothing with Sonny wrapped tightly against her chest, his small mouth opened and closed, his eyes tightly shut.  She walked mechanically. Left foot. Right foot. Rhythmically. Left foot, right foot. Numb. Numb. Prince. Think. Don't think. I can't. Left foot. Right Foot.            

Izzy’s hair was outlined in the golden rays of the sun, gold and orange, which sunk lower, lower into the horizon. One moment the sun illuminated the desert landscape. Small shrubs became gigantic forests as their shadows unfurled a dreaming forest, stretching towards the radiance of the sun. Izzy walked through this dreaming forest. Left foot. Right foot.           

The sun sunk below the curtain of the world, dark purple sheets covering its face.  The color extinguished from the world as the sun hid its face behind the curtain. The sun, a diva, had left the stage.

Izzy did not notice the sun’s performance, the last call of a sleepy bird, the shadows proclaiming their distant nobility, or the color leaching away and changing the world to black, white, and shadows.  But, she did notice the changing temperature.

            Izzy's body shook. Goose pimples formed on her arms and legs. The sun had baked the land, leaving the rocks warm, the stones heated.  As the sun set, a wind sprang up taking the warmth from the land, swirling it into the night sky. The sweat that had gathered between Sonny and Izzy, that had trickled down her chest, this sweat cooled too quickly causing Izzy to shake and to shiver. Sonny's safe. She felt his small body warm her. 

           Izzy shivered. She had no time to think. She must walk from the trap the desert and the men had made of her home.  No, thinking didn’t help. Thinking just caused her to feel the pain in her legs, arms, and chest. Thinking caused her to feel her clenching stomach. Thinking only reminded her that she and Sonny were alone. Left foot. Right foot.             

Earlier in the day, Izzy had found the small cache that Pa had hidden in the rocks near Prince. She now carried a small water-skin. Pa must have known. Resolutely she wiped away a tear. She had built a small fire, cooking a piece of meat carved from Prince’s haunch. She needed the meat to keep her strength, needed the meat to save them both.  Prince is dead. Left foot. Right foot. He is dead and won’t feel it.  This last act of Prince might save them. She had tried to feed Sonny, but . . . Well, they would be at the Taylor’s tomorrow. On Prince, she would have been able to make it to the Taylor’s in three to four hours. It would probably take her at least twice, maybe three times that amount of time.

             The Taylors had a goat. One day without food wouldn’t hurt Sonny. She glanced down at her brother. He had been hot; he had been strong.  In rage, he had cried waving his feet and hands. She had put him on his blanket next to Prince. He yelled at the world. Yelled at life. After she ate, Sonny hiccuped and fell asleep—too weak to continue.  She again wrapped him in the blanket and tied him to her. She heard his heart beat.

            Izzy stumbled. She grabbed Sonny, then continued lifting her feet in the same pattern. Left foot. Right foot. Behind her, the coyotes would first tear into Prince’s carcass, feeling the rich meat in their teeth. Maybe the lone cougar she had spotted last year would also show. The carcass, a command performance, would occupy the area’s predators, who growling and spitting at each other would be too busy to hunt a young girl. As long as Izzy could stand, she needed to keep moving. Left foot. Right foot.

            The darkness pressed heavily against her. Black and white: the night held terrors that were not easily identified in the gloom. Tonight, there would be no soft light of the moon to light her feet. The stars would lighten the blackness of the sky, but not the road. The road, a dusty track, would lead her. At least, civilization had come far enough to make this mark.