The motor inn was positioned on the wide Mobile Bay, which sprawled in each direction toward the horizon. The white clapboards were covered in a thin film of green, and the roof was rusted. The inn was filled with guests, but nobody stayed in their rooms. They all sat in the breezeway, smoking cigarettes, watching the bay water.

Something about the bay was otherworldly. It did something to Ruth. It made her think bigger thoughts than she normally thought. And that was saying something; her thoughts were already very big. She felt something here. Something familiar.

Stringbean sat on a leash beside Pete looking pitiful. Bean had never seen a leash in her life—and she didn’t like it. Ruth didn’t blame her. If she had been a dog, she would’ve hated leashes too. In some ways Ruth and Stringbean were alike. They were raised without mothers, in packs. They loved food, and they were born to be runners.

Stringbean loved to run more than any creature she’d ever seen. Even so, the animal sat beside Pete like a faithful companion, behaving, ready to do whatever Pete asked.

Ruth and Stringbean stared at the gray water. They were both still and quiet. The people in Ruth’s life were almost doglike. And the dogs in her life were almost people-like.

This motor inn was the nicest place she’d ever been. Hands down. The room had green carpet, a small kitchenette with one burner, and a shower. A real shower.

Until the motor inn, Ruth had never taken a shower in her life, only baths in Miss Warner’s claw-foot washtub. Since they’d arrived a few days ago, she had taken nine showers. She could not get over how exhilarating it was. It was a marvelous experience, maybe one of the best experiences she’d ever had in her life—except for the time she beat Daniel McGhee in a footrace at the county fair.

The room was small but nice. There were two single beds, a radio, and wallpaper that had little mermaids on it. Mermaids. It was heaven.

Ruth found a chair beside Pete and looked at the bay. “Beautiful, ain’t it?” she said.

He looked at her like he was being recalled from a faraway place. “Yeah.”

“Can you believe we’re actually in Mobile?”

“Can you believe we’re actually married?” he said.

She took his hand. “I can. I can believe it.”

A smile made its way onto his face. “Married.”

He looked at his lap. His face could go from being alive with joy to sullen in only a moment.

“What?” she asked.

“My mother,” he said. “She always wanted to see the ocean. She woulda loved it here.”