“How long will it take to get there?” Tinsley’s hand is on my thigh. I glance at Cousin Barry in the passenger seat of Odysseus. He’s smoking and gazing out the window through a pair of aviator sunglasses.

“Figure nine hours,” I reply. Physics alone cannot explain the degree of warmth I feel at the spot where Tinsley’s hand lies. She is kneeling in the space between the front seats. She seems to enjoy tucking herself into small places like some sinuous feral creature looking for a spot where she can feel secure.

Barry looks down at her hand on my thigh. Behind the aviator glasses, his expression is unreadable. We are headed toward Ottawa.

An hour ago, on the way to Barry’s house, I stopped at a gas station and picked up a case of SAE 30 motor oil. When I bought Odysseus last March, the previous owner warned me that it had a slow oil leak and needed an additional quart every couple of hundred miles. The trip from Long Island to Lake Juliette and back will be about a thousand miles, so I’ve stocked up.

From the gas station, I drove to Barry’s. When I pulled into the driveway, he yelled down from the window of his room that he was still getting his act together. I went around to the back of the van, opened the engine compartment, and checked the dipstick. The oil level was low.

I’d just finished adding more when Tinsley came out of the house carrying a knapsack and camera bag. She was wearing round purple sunglasses and a straw hat with a wide brim. Brightly colored love beads and a leather cord with a peace pendant hung from her neck.

“We giving you a lift somewhere?” I asked, wiping my oily hands with a rag.

“Ottawa?” Her tone was teasing. She knew I’d be surprised. It’s the first time I’ve seen her since the Planting Fields. Barry told me last week that he was coming north with me, but he didn’t say anything about Tinsley coming with us. Coyly, she added, “You don’t mind, do you?”

We are headed west on the Long Island Expressway with Disraeli Gears playing. Tinsley retreats to the mattress. There’s barely enough room back there for someone to lie down beside the blank canvases, a duffel bag, a bright-yellow-and-orange butterfly kite, and two boxes of brushes and paints.