Her truncated yellow dress fluttered against her long, loose thighs and a river of chunky gold chains and small gold boxes strung together on a painted gold string slid like a river down over the side of her ribs as she lay on the wall in the 4 o'clock sun. The wind brushed against her black hair, casting it again like shifting rivers of Japanese calligraphy against the sand-colored concrete and the bridge of her nose rose like the Sierras against the planes of her face.
A shadow fell over Michael and he opened his eyes.
"Third time I've found you out here," said Dixon, his leather vest flapping against his mottled, scared torso. His dirt-browned Adidas scuffed in the rubble and dust a few inches from where Michael's heels dug in. "Can't respect a man for sittin' and sinkin' into the past. Can't do nothin' like that."
The sun hurt Michael's eyes; he looked down. His army-issue boots were as dust-covered as Dixon's. "I was thinking about going back," he said.
Dixon's feet stopped shifting and his thick fingers opened and relaxed at his sides. After a minute, Michael felt the urge to laugh. The sun had already shifted farther down. Dixon reached down and smacked hands together in front of Michael's face. The puff of air hot and dry and smelled like breakfast at one of the old Waffle Houses from the odor of dried egg mixture on Dixon's hands.
"No you ain't." Dixon stepped back. "Shit."
Michael stood. "You tell me. Every time I come to see you, you tell me I'm stronger than you."
"That wasn't supposed to go to your head." Dixon scrubbed at his forehead with the heel of his hand.
Michael hefted his pike and his long-knife into his shoulder like fishing poles. "I will need what is left of your rope, and your map of the canyon. Don't tell me you've burned them--You bake on the damn roof, you haven't touched fire since..."
Dixon, still rubbing his forehead turned away and headed back down the hill to to his trailer. Michael followed him.
Evening was pricking at the edges of the desert when Michael left a weeping Dixon and started out. Before he left, he asked what Dixon wanted should he succeed.
"You won't," said Dixon.