Ben liked the kid. If Ro was superficial, Griffen was plainspoken. He liked hiking and skateboarding and was always moving. He reminded Ben of himself, a glimpse into what he might have been had Ellen not been murdered.
After the three of them returned with a cart full of groceries, Ben slipped onto the 285/84, where the ride to Santa Clara was a straight shot until Espa?ola. Within a minute, the land spread out into miles of wilderness, the blacktop cutting through rock and mesas, formed of ancient earth and ritual. They were heading west into a strong sun with a very strong glare.
Exits from the highway were miles apart: the Santa Fe Opera, the Tesuque pueblo, Camel Rock—where Griffen noted that the rock formation really did look like a Bactrian animal—until the highway slowed at Buffalo Thunder, a monolith of hotel and casino and water-drinking golf courses. The drive through Espa?ola was backed up with traffic. The city was a mixture of ethnicities and sat between two counties: its own county and Santa Fe. Whereas the city of Santa Fe had a stable population of sixty thousand—it could swell to over a hundred thousand during the tourist season—Espa?ola was three times as large. It had the regular businesses: fast food, movie theaters, family-style restaurants, a bowling alley, garages, drugstores, tattoo parlors, and the ever-present Dairy Queens.
At I-30, Ben went west, passing San Ildefonso and on into Santa Clara. Abutting one another, the two pueblos had much in common, from a tradition of pottery making to language. Over the years and through his grandmother, Ben had learned a few words of Tewa. At some point—long, long ago—he had meant to learn more, but other things got in the way.
Santa Clara was a large pueblo. Lots of its land was dry and dusty, but the acreage also included miles of pi?on forest. The place was not Ben’s home but he felt at home there. He parked in an unpaved area and everyone got out of the car, carrying grocery bags into the small adobe house. A mutt the size of a German shepherd came out to greet them, its tail wagging like a windshield wiper.
“Hey, Baker,” Haley said.
The dog ran back and forth with each trip to and from the car. Once everyone was inside, Griffen and Haley helped Lilly’s grandmother, Grace, put away the groceries and set up for the meal. Lilly had disappeared into one of the three back bedrooms. Although the Tafoyas were a well-known pottery-making family, Lilly had always directed her artistic bent toward jewelry.
Grace was in her sixties, elegantly dressed in black slacks and a silk tunic. She had a round face with skin stretched over pronounced cheekbones. Her eyes were black, her hair was coiffed and gray, and she smiled with ivory-colored teeth. “Thanks for bringing the girls . . .” She looked at their male companion. “The kids.”
The teen stuck out his hand. “Griffen Majors.”
“Pleased to meet you, Griffen.”
“I like your house. Lilly said you made all the pots.”
“Me and members of my family.”
“Cool.”
Ben said, “Something smells good and I’m hungry. What time is the shindig?”
“Seven thirty.”
“I’m gonna say hello to Henry but I’ll be back.” He heard Lilly call his name from the back bedroom. “I’m coming.” He looked at Grace. “You need anything?”
“No, I’m fine. Not that Papa Joe will appreciate any of this. And tell Henry he’s welcome as long as he behaves himself.”
The teen laughed and went to see what Lilly wanted. She was hunched over a table, her fingers already blackened by silver polish. She showed him a bolo tie clip. “What do you think?”
“It’s gorgeous.” He turned it over in his hands. “Finished on both sides. I love your stonework, Lilly. You keep getting better and better.”
Lilly smiled. “Papa Joe wears bolo ties and loves stones.”
“It’s perfect. I know Joe’s a grumpy guy, but if he doesn’t love it, there is no hope for him.”
She smiled. “You’re gonna stick around for the party, right?”
“Are you planning on thumbing a ride home?” When she blushed, Ben said, “Of course I’m sticking around. I’m just going to say hello to Henry.”
“Make sure he doesn’t get you drunk.”
“Heaven forbid. I’m driving.”
He was leaving when Lilly said, “Ben?”
“Yeah, hon?”
“I hate to bother you but I need help with math.”
“You need help? There’s a first. What is it?”
She showed him her book and pointed to the troubling problem. “We’re supposed to calculate the area of all of these figures. It’s eighteen that I’m stuck on.”
Eighteen was a figure that looked like a cloud with a point. He said, “Let me see what you’ve done so far.” She showed him a blank piece of paper with her name, the date, and the class assignment on it. “You haven’t done any work. There’s nothing on the paper.”
“I’ve done them in my head. Except eighteen. I can’t visualize it. I keep visualizing shapes but there’s always leftover area that I can’t break down into simple polygons.”
“You’re looking at geometric shapes. Think of other shapes.”
“Like what?”
“Ice cream cones?”
She stared at the picture, then she hit her head. “Each cone sharing an edge with the bottom and the common point.”
“That’ll work.” Ben smiled. “Is that how you always solve problems—in your head?”
“Yep. Is that weird?”
“No, it’s very scientific actually. Especially in physics. It helps to have a visual before you apply the actual numbers. I do it all the time.” Ben patted her back. “We geniuses think alike.”
She blushed and went back to her bolo. “Thanks so much.”
“You’re welcome.” Ben pointed to the bolo. “And I mean it. If Joe doesn’t want it, I’ll take it.”
“I can make one for you, you know.”
Her eyes were filled with expectation. Ben graced her with a gentle smile. Lilly’s siblings were a generation older than she was because her father had been married before. For the last four years, Ben had become her surrogate big brother. He had taught the two girls how to ride a bike, how to swim, how to read a compass, how to follow tracks in the mountains, how to skateboard. But puberty did what puberty does, and for the last few months, Lilly had become shier with him. He still viewed her as a little girl, of course, and he was careful not to give her the wrong impression.
Rather than answer yes or no, he said, “I’ll see you later, hon.”
Lilly’s face fell, but she masked her embarrassment by working on the bolo clip. Ben wondered if he should say something, but he’d only open up another can of worms. Right now, he had enough worms to start a tackle and bait shop.