She approached the house. It was a low bungalow, avocado green, with a neat lawn kept well watered in the dry climate at the expense of some other place far away and out of mind. The lawn was surrounded by a border of pebbles, arranged into geometric patterns that were perhaps meant to ward away evil or might have just been the way earthquakes had left them. The fence between the house and the car lot was tall and chain link. A used car salesman howled, hopping from car roof to car roof with an animal joy. Jackie creaked open the metal gate into Josie’s side yard, with an outdoor sitting area made of rusted metal rocking chairs with cushions whose fabric was faded nearly all the way to white by the sun.

“Can I help you?”

She turned. There was a being that was difficult to describe, although the best and most illegal description was “angel.” Angels are tall, genderless beings who are all named Erika.

“I was just doing some trimming,” the being said. They were holding hedge trimmers and standing by an empty patch of dirt. There were no plants of any kind anywhere near them.

“I’m looking for Old Woman Josie,” Jackie said.

The being shifted. There was the crack of heavy wings flapping and a flash of a blinding, bright blackness, a darkness so radiant it seemed to Jackie her heart would break.

“Josie?” the being said. “Sure. She’s around. Let me go get her.” They didn’t move.

“Ah, okay. Thanks, man,” Jackie said. The being still did not move. “I’ll just knock then?”

“No need,” said Josie. “Erika got me.” She was walking in from the backyard, hunched over a cane, her long hair in strings over her face. But there was something about her body that seemed powerful, like an Olympic athlete perched on an old woman’s skeleton.

“Great,” Jackie said. “Thanks, Erika.” The being still did not move. A flock of birds took off from a tree on the street, bird after bird, more birds than could possibly fit in a tree. They seemed confused, cawing and flying into each other.

“What can I do for you today, young Jackie Fierro?” said Josie. “Finally taking a day off and enjoying yourself?”

“Nah, just wanted to ask you about some stuff.” More pain. Maybe her appendix really had burst. Maybe she would die. “I have a . . . problem. Thought maybe someone else might be having it too.”

“Almost always we are all experiencing the same problems as everyone else,” said Josie, “and pretending we don’t so that every one of us thinks we are alone. Come on inside.”

She hobbled over to the front door. Under her arm was a cloth-wrapped bundle, with dirt clinging to it. As they entered the cool of the house, she set it on a kitchen counter and led Jackie into the living room.