Wanda sped fast into the winding blackness of South Dakota road, chain-smoking Camel Lights, the radio blaring. All she could pick up were country-western stations and she hated that stuff. Still, she found herself singing along, belting 'em out the window for all the critters on the empty highway to hear. The further west she went, the more her speech took on a twang. She was a real cultural chameleon, yes, indeedy.

 

Open road, no plans. I can stop right here and commune with the buffalo by moonlight. Yesterday she had seen hundreds of them. They were a total trip. There was this one big male buffalo that had the hugest head she had ever seen. He glared right at her, not at all the other tourists around, but right straight at her. And mooed or whatever they do. It was the spirit of some angry Dad trapped inside that thing, who didn't like what she was up to, a tall. She had taunted him on purpose, yelling" Yeah? And what're you gonna do about it, dick brain?" out the window. She didn't dare get out of the car because she knew he'd ram her, stomping her into mush on the pavement. It'd been an hour now since she'd seen another car. High up in The Little Big Horns, she passed a sign that said Crazy Woman Canyon Road. The flash splattered bright fake light over the dark hills that for a fraction of time blazed red. She wondered how many others had backed up to take a picture. She wished the Crazy Woman herself would step forward to join her.

 

Three days ago she had left Chicago. Mornings since then she'd wake up loose and easy, until she'd remember that ma was gone. There was no predicting what she would feel like next. Sometimes she'd be high, relieved that the dying was over, that an enormous weight had been lifted from her chest and she could breathe. Other times she sobbed hysterically, crying out "mama, mama," bleating like an abandoned calf until her throat was raw. She played back their last minutes together over and over, her mother no longer able to speak. It didn't matter because Wanda knew exactly what she wanted. She told her, so that her mom stopped trying, impossibly, to get the words out. She assured her that before anybody would take her away, Wanda would bathe her and clean up the mess in bed. No one will see you before you are smelling sweet as a rose, honey, I promise. Not to worry, ma. Her mom pointed toward the ceiling, circling her long arm, like her mother's mother had done, she remembered, to signal the end.

 

Then Wanda had washed her mother's body carefully, cleaning her, combing her hair and kissing her hands as they slowly got colder. As she cleaned her sex, she was aware that this is what her ma had done for her as a little girl child and they had come full circle.  Then Wanda bathed herself and discovered that she had gotten her period. How right.

 

She started the car. Off to the left her eye caught a quick movement. Startled, a large doe and tiny spotted fawn crossed blindly before her headlights. Wanda watched until they were safe in her canyon, in the shelter of the Crazy Woman's place below, then waved good-bye.