Hot winds raced through the canyon, making the air thick and unbreathable. Desiccated flora spun aimlessly. Creatures lay dead and those dying writhed in agony. Bodies heaved like bellows, tongues flapping over fated flesh. No man or animal sought inspiration in such turmoil. No thought or habit—good or treacherous—could withstand the burden that swept through the rugged pass.

Madden sat at the kitchen table. The peace he craved during the last years never came. He inhaled with great effort as his hand slid across his damp forehead. Kicking his chair backward, he walked to the rattling window, parted the dusty curtains, and stared into the haze. A lone coyote knelt on its forelegs, its spectral howls muted by the clamor of wicked currents. Madden gazed into the sky, convinced God had fled unannounced, stealing the stars—abandoning a stained moon at the pale of a darkened settlement. When he looked again for the coyote, it was gone.

“All right. I’m done jacking myself around.”

He coughed and wiped the bloody drool from his chin as he pushed open the door and stepped out into the inferno. Swirling drafts caught his duster and lifted it high off his boot shafts. In the dense twilight, his frail body seemed a fearless shadow making its way toward the workshed. The latched door stood firm upon the slab, its adjacent slats weakened by the hail of rocks and clots of dirt churned up by the wind. Madden kicked the door and watched it fall inward. He coughed again, this time longer and harder, his mouth filling with the taste of some arsenical brew.

His flashlight lit the bins that stored memories of better days. Madden removed a rifle from the wall rack. The ammo box lay on a shelf below. There were two cartridges left, he loaded one. It was all he needed to bring his target down.

A low rumbling came from the west. He exited the shed and shielded his eyes, looking out across the crepuscular wasteland that sloped up toward the distant highway that wound beside a ridge. South along that road sprawled a city that harbored his estranged wife. He hardly ventured there, cleaving to a solitary life after his son’s death and her subsequent departure.

Dust clouds billowed behind a vehicle coming down the dirt road toward his house. Its engine hummed several octaves below the shrieking wind. Madden aimed his rifle. Roof lights flashed. He lowered the weapon and waited. The deputy pulled up beside him and stepped out of his car, holding fast the crown of his hat.

“God damn, Madden. I ain’t ever seen weather like this before.”

Madden leaned on the rifle for support but said nothing. The deputy hollered over the wind.

“Your wife, Jenny. Remember her? Sent me to deliver a message. She’s worried about you.”

Madden coughed. The deputy caught sight of the blood stains on Madden’s sleeve.

“You all right?”

Madden waved him away. The deputy didn’t move.

“Mind if we continue this conversation inside, Tom? My eyes are burnin’ fierce.”

The deputy followed Madden, slapping his dusty uniform with his wide-brimmed hat. “What ya plannin’ to do with that 30-aught 6? Unlikely there’s suitable game in this peculiar weather. Ain’t seen such death scattered about since the outbreak twenty years ago. Sure is a different world here. I’d go as far as to call it hostile.”

Madden didn’t answer.

“I got to say, you’re lookin’ sickly.”

“Ain’t asked your opinion, Caine. Consider your job done and scoot back to town. Jenny needn’t know of my state.”

“What do ya propose I tell her?”

“Nothing. I wasn’t here when you showed up.”

“I won’t lie to her, Madden. She has a right to know. Just to be clear. This ain’t official business nor a social call on my behalf. More like a favor.”

“I ain’t seeking favors—especially from the likes of you.”

Caine grinned. “Jenny’s a fine and handsome woman. She erred choosin’ the lesser man between us.”

“Was no mistake. She ain’t stupid,” said Madden. “And lest you forget it’s a sin to covet another man’s wife.” Then he wondered if all sins expired with the departure of God.

Caine sneered. The men stood waiting on each other’s silence. Madden drew his words first, speaking softly as if talking to himself.

“Maybe I’d be of a different mind if I was younger. I’m staying put in our home. She knows where to find me.”

The deputy creased his hat with the side of his hand. “All these years pinin’ away out here on account of the tragedy. What a waste.”

“Ain’t none of your concern.”

“It’s no secret Jenny left you because of the accident on the highway. Wasn’t her fault. Deer come outta nowhere. Shoot, I’ve seen how the loss of a child twists folks up. Then they blame each other or worse.”

“That’s enough, now.”

The deputy continued, testing the fortitude of Madden’s rebuke.

“Losin’ the boy hit her hard. Spent all that time in the mental hospital and still ain’t fully right.”

“No way that woman’s crazy,” insisted Madden. “Just confused.”

“Needs consolation. She breaks down and cries as if relivin’ the horror. Thinks her boy is comin’ home for dinner. A damn shame.”

“Sounds like you’ve taken an interest in her again.”

“My duty demands I support anyone in times of woe,” said the deputy.

“Ain’t right. That’s a husband’s job. The woman ought to be here with me.”

“It was her choice to leave. Don’t go gettin’ the wrong idea.”

“Wouldn’t be advisable for any man to take advantage of her misfortune,” said Madden.

“You accusin’ me of sportin’ with your wife?”

“I said any man, though you’re the first who comes to mind.”

“Ever hear of sympathy?”

“Sure. I could use a bit myself,” said Madden. “I’d wake up to her sweet face, weighing up why she chose me to forever lie beside. She ain’t of a mind to cheat, either, and loved our boy beyond words.” Madden wiped his eye with his bloodstained sleeve. “That child was a rare gift. Damn accident put an end to the goodness.”

“Far as I’m concerned, anyone who drives that highway puts their life in God’s hands,” said Caine. “It’s not even a matter how many warnin’ signs line the shoulders. The road was built with too many possibilities for things to go wrong.”

“God had no hand in it. Hasn’t for some time.”

Madden leaned back and set his boot against the wall. The rifle barrel rested on his shoulder. A painful cough came up from deep within and he bent over and grabbed his gut trying to catch a breath.

“Oughta see a doc.”

Madden slowly uncoiled himself. “Sickness got little to do with it. It’s the loss of goodness that ruins a man. Now, you ought to leave—and make damn sure you divest of them misplaced feelings for Jenny.”

Caine snickered. “Can’t reckon what she saw in you.”

Madden aimed the rifle at the deputy. His arms shook and his finger trembled on the trigger.

“Leave me as you found me. I’ve lost patience.”

“I could arrest you and haul your ass in for threatenin’ an officer of the law.”

“Try and I’ll shoot you for trespassing. You only came here to taunt. Ain’t no warrant presented and I didn’t invite you in.”

“She sure is a beautiful woman.” Caine started to leave then stopped and pointed at Madden. “You can rot in this filthy, broken-down place for all I care. Would be no loss to Jenny and great satisfaction to me.”

“You always took pleasure in others’ suffering. More so in mine. Now git!”

Madden cocked the rifle in an exclamation of disdain. Caine turned and slammed the door as he walked out. Madden listened to the engine rev and the faint crunch of gravel beneath the tires. The red tail lights blinked like fiendish eyes fading into the hazy darkness. The foul scent of the deputy’s cologne was all that remained.

*

Madden tilted the pot and poured himself a cup of cold, thick coffee. He considered Caine’s words: A filthy, broken-down place. He knelt on one knee and slid his hand across the uneven wood floor. Darkness clung to his fingers. Just no enterprise left in this body, he thought. Run out of purpose by my sorrow.

The wind subsided and the beams stopped creaking—as if nature awarded an indeterminate moment of respite to all things. “Now’s the time,” muttered Madden.

He grabbed the rifle and headed out. He took his place atop a flat rock near the canyon entrance and positioned the muzzle beneath his jaw, feeling the warm metal poke his gullet. His finger coiled around the trigger, only seconds away from sending himself into the domain of lost souls. A hacking cough roared from the depths of his sickly lungs a moment before the blast echoed through the canyon. The sting of gunpowder rode up the side of his face as the rifle dropped off the edge of the perching rock. He collapsed, eyes wide open staring at the house where Jenny stood, calling his name. Madden tried to answer but the words fell mute off his lips—as in the madness of dreams.

“You, Tom. Dinner’s ready. Find our son and bring him home.”

Then he passed out, but not away.

*

Madden glanced around as he propped himself up against the headboard, having the dismal notion he’d been returned to a life of misery. The deputy stared down at him and then stepped aside when Jenny approached holding a bowl of water and a cloth. She sat beside Madden and placed a towel on his forehead.

“How’s my boy?”

“Say my senses ain’t deceiving me,” said Madden.

“Caine told me you were ailing. I worried you’d do something stupid and I was right. We found you all scuffed up lying on a rock. Don’t know why you’d be out wandering in your condition. Lucky Mama came to care for you and bring you back to town.”

Madden had no strength to argue about her latter intention.

“Guess I’ll be goin’ now,” said Caine. “I expect to see you soon,” aiming his words at Jenny, who smiled. The deputy touched the brim of his hat and departed.

“You seem mighty friendly with him.”

“What’s wrong with being grateful for his help?”

“Nothing. Just that you could have found me without his assistance.”

“I suppose so. It wouldn’t make me any less appreciative.”

Madden took silent exception to her words, then drew in a deep but painful breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I ain’t feeling right. Let me rest a while.”

“You’ve rested plenty. You’re thin as a rail and need sustenance.”

Jenny checked the cupboard. A can of beans sat on an otherwise empty shelf. She cranked the can opener, stopping halfway around, then pulled back the jagged top and stared at the beans as they slowly dripped into the pot. She lit the stove and set two hardwood bowls and flatware on the table.

Jenny walked into the bedroom and wrapped Madden’s arm around her shoulders. He felt the warmth of her body as they paced toward the kitchen. He took a seat and she served the meal.

“My little boy never could look after himself.”

“I’m glad you’re back. I know now that dying wasn’t meant to be.”

“Why would you say such a thing?”

Madden set his spoon down and stared at his wife who seemed very much the woman of the past, not a bit distracted or fragile like the deputy described her. She touched his hand. He doubted a man would feel such pleasure in death and thanked fate for intervening. Madden pulled himself off the chair and stood behind her, stroking the coppery hair of the woman he once loved and would love again.

*

He woke late from a restful night during which unexpected youthful strength poured out of his body. From the heights of despair, he had fallen into the lushness of the woman who had forsaken him. Jenny stood near the doorway in her chemise, humming a song she sang while rocking the cradle before their years of discontent. Madden raised himself on one arm and saw several drops of blood on the pillow. For the first time, it scared him. He coughed.

“You okay?”

“Ain’t nothing to worry about,” hiding the stains with his hand.

He watched as she slipped into her jumper.

“Maybe you can fix us a fresh pot of coffee.”

“Sure, baby. A fine thing it’ll be getting back to the city. The doc will fix you up and we’ll be a happy family again.”

He dressed, walked into the kitchen, placed his hands on her hips, and kissed the nape of her neck. She turned and handed him a cup and they retired to the couch. He sipped slowly—eyes fixed on his wife. She sat beside him, her body tense as she stared across the room, gripping her cup, listening to the buzzing windows and creaking beams as the powerful winds returned.

“Something troubling you?”

“This is what you’ve been living with?”

“You mean the wind? It’ll pass. It wasn’t like this back then.”

“How can you stand it? I’m scared, Tom. The house will come crashing down and kill us all!”

She dropped the cup and covered her ears.

“Hey, now. Take it easy. Nothing like that is going to happen.”

Madden dropped to his knees and retrieved her fallen cup, then soaked up the spill with his handkerchief. Jenny crouched beside him and held his arm. “We need to go before things get worse. Now! I’ll mind the boy while you pack.”

Madden stood, startled by her insistence on leaving and her odd remark about their son.

*

It neared twilight when he finished packing the station wagon. The last item he stowed was his rifle which he had retrieved and reloaded with the remaining cartridge from the broken shed.

“No reason to carry that weapon in the city. Things are different there.”

“Some things don’t abide by boundaries.” He turned to look at their canyon home.

“Don’t look back,” said Jenny. “That house is sick, wants to die.”

He opened the passenger door and eased himself in. He recognized the scent of the deputy.

“You been seeing Caine. Cheap odor is all over the car.”

“Nice you think another man would be interested in me.”

“I can deal with another man. My unease is with your interest in him.”

“He helped me move some things, that’s all. I can’t do much about his after-shave… I mean, cologne.”

Madden slumped into his seat and wiped the feverish sweat from his brow. The car rolled over the dirt path toward the road that led to the city. Night closed in by the time they reached the highway. Jenny looked at Madden, then the road, then back to him.

“Nice having you back in our lives,” she said. “One happy family, again.”

Madden leaned his head against the side window.

“You’re so quiet, baby,” she said. “Something wrong?”

“No. Mind the signs. You know this road all too well.”

Madden looked up at the sky. The moon beamed clear and luminous—friendly. Beside it glimmered two fugitive stars and between them, the prospect of happiness. He and Jenny would spend some time in the city, he imagined, get well, then return to the canyon. He’d already warned Caine, though it meant little to such a scoundrel. The second bullet in the rifle awaited the deputy’s mistake. Life would be as it should be. Might even start a new family.

“I have a surprise, Tom. Our boy is coming to dinner.”

Her words jolted Madden out of his reverie.

“We need to get back before he arrives. He gets upset if I’m late.”

“Where’s he been?” asked Madden, fearing he misjudged the frailty of her mind.

Jenny didn’t answer. She pressed harder on the accelerator.

“Slow down. There ain’t no boy awaiting us. It’s just you and me now.”

“Won’t it be wonderful to see him? Of course, it’ll take some time for him to get to know you again.”

“Ease up, I said. Mind the signs. You know the dangers of this road.”

Jenny sped along the highway. There was nothing Madden could do. The car rattled, tires squealed, barely holding the road. The brakes locked as they came around a narrow bend and the wagon caromed off the guardrail, spinning wildly until it came to rest with its rear lodged against the ridge. Jenny sat hunched over the steering wheel, her head cushioned by her arms. She gathered her senses, then took account of the car.

A man sat beside her. She could not recall who he was or why he was there, his head pressed against the shattered windshield. She pulled him back and studied his lifeless face in the promising moonlight. He looked so much like her son.