In the mid afternoon, Lulu whimpered and squirmed, and then her restlessness turned into a demanding, persistent wail. When Nola freed her from the confines of the basket, Lulu kicked and struggled to get out of her hold. Each new introduction of a toy distracted her for only a minute before she became bored and resumed her crying. She threw up, and the sour smell of vomit hung in the cab. Nola would have asked to sit in the truck bed if it hadn’t been for the dust, the stench from the fields, the blue-bellied flies, and her fear of being thrown out into the gorge from the violent bouncing as the truck climbed yet another mountain ridge.

She was relieved when they descended again into a valley and drove into a sprawling village that had a train station. The sky had opened in a downpour, and when the truck stopped, Nola put her hands outside the window and gathered the water in her cupped palms. Water had never tasted so good. She splashed it on her face and neck. Again she filled her palms but stopped at the approach of a Chinese man and a woman jointly holding a plastic canopy over their heads. Water streamed down in sheets as they stopped beside the truck to greet them.

“Friends come to say good-bye.” Ming-Ji said. “They make travel arrangements.”

The two looked alike, a picture of unison that filled Nola with a sudden longing. These were two people who wanted the same things. No one partner diminished the other.

The woman bent into the cabin, stared into Nola's eyes, and said something. They all giggled.

“Husband say you eat grass for such color eyes,” Ming-Ji explained, “but wife say you have lanterns in your eyes.”

Nola smiled. “What would they say about Daniel's eyes?”

“He have three-dimension face, too.” In response to Nola's puzzled expression, Ming-Ji added, “That’s what we call Western faces. Not flat like ours, two-dimension.”

Nola bade the truck driver and his son good-bye and gave them one of her bracelets. Glad to not have the son’s eyes pierce her neck through the cab’s back window, she squeezed under the plastic sheet with the couple and Ming-Ji holding Lulu. The Chinese woman produced a large square red kerchief and dropped it over Nola's head and face.

“Now people think you are Chinese bride,” Ming-Ji said.

Her view blocked by the cloth that reached down to her shoulders, Nola stumbled on the way to the station, seeing only the rivulets of water under her feet. Sheltered in the building, she heard the rain pounding on the galvanized roof and saw patches of puddles on the cement floor.