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THE BOX

One month after the events on the plateau, Sam and Vida have enjoyed dinner together on seven occasions. This is the fourth time she has cooked for them at her house. Following dessert, she brings the brightly wrapped box to the table to be opened while they are having coffee.

She has intended to wait until her next birthday before opening this gift, and she has meant to attend it alone, lest the contents might wring too much emotion from her.

However, considering that the fortuneteller’s advice has been worth heeding in all matters, Vida is prepared not to cling to what was, even though she will always treasure it, and to embrace what can be. Since she was orphaned at five, there have been just three men of the highest caliber in her life, and it seems right that she should in some ineffable way unite them here. In her uncle’s house, where she welcomed José in his courting, with Sam’s future and hers entwined, she opens the card attached to the gift.

She reads José’s neat cursive aloud to Sam. They are the words that were painted on the seer’s Volkswagen bus. “Look with kindness on those who suffer, who struggle against difficulties, who drink unceasingly the bitterness of this life.” Under this, her first love has written, “As much as she did, you have the wisdom and the heart to show others out of the darkness and into light.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Sam says, and raises his glass.

She cries, of course. The tears have been pent up a long time.

With some effort, she slides the shiny blue ribbon off the box without cutting it and avoids tearing the paper, for she intends to save them both.

Perhaps she should know what she will find inside, but she is surprised. A pair of bright-yellow sneakers.