The Fierce Walker had obviously heard the whispers of the wind. She chewed on her bottom lip and Lena could see, beneath the woman’s dark glasses, the darting movement of her eyes, from Lena to the ground and back to Lena.
To put her at ease, Lena waved her right hand in a friendly way. It was a regretfully awkward movement, given that Lena was still holding the book, the pages of which flapped ridiculously.
But it seemed to work: Fierce Walker inhaled and then sighed like a woman in love.
“That. Book,” she said, and clutched her heart.
Lena leaned closer, despite herself. “I just got to the part where Odile is in the tree.”
“With the family below her? I was dying.”
“Tell me it turns out okay.”
“I’m not going to spoil it for you. You’d never forgive me.”
The Fierce Walker frowned suddenly, like she’d received a silent reprimand from an unseen handler to remain on task. She pushed back her shoulders and jutted out her jaw.
“I’m Annie Perley and I live down the hill on Pinon Road,” she said.
“Lena Meeker,” Lena said even though Annie knew this, of course she did. Poor Lena Meeker. A cautionary tale. Tell your children.
Annie removed her sunglasses and folded them onto the collar of her shirt, revealing a cluster of tiny tattoos—an elephant, a star, a butterfly–on her inner wrist. She was younger than Lena had imagined, and freshly pretty, with smooth, pale skin and delicate features.
Lena smiled: she’d always appreciated beauty, and Annie had the comforting attractiveness of a stock photo model. But waves of intensity evaporated off her, and for a dizzying moment, Lena worried that Annie would start the sympathy stutter, So sorry, thoughts and prayers and I can’t even imagine.
“I’ve seen you trekking around the neighborhood,” Lena said to cut this off at the head. “And marvel at your willpower. I wish I had the drive in regards to exercise, but alas I never have. I have all the momentum to start any kind of fad, but it’s the follow-through that stumps me. The consistency. Too many bad habits, too ingrained, I guess. Do you do the entire loop every day?”
Lena was aware she was babbling, but the angsty look in Annie’s eyes was gone, so it had been worth it.
Annie nodded. “As pathetic as it sounds, exercise keeps me sane. And it helps Yellow.”
When she patted the dog’s head, Lena surmised that he/she/it was Yellow, even though it was more of a muddy greige.
“We got her when my son Hank was learning his colors,” Annie explained. She shot a wry look at Lena. “Or not.”
Lena managed a passable casual laugh. This wasn’t going horribly, not at all, or maybe it was?
Annie Perley paused and reddened slightly. Another correction from the off-site handler. There was something unsavory to discuss, Lena sensed. Presumably, the Fierce Walker had not knocked on the door to talk about Lena’s book selections and lack of commitment to exercise.
“Can I help you with something, Annie?” Lena said.
“No, no, I’m just here because. Well”—Annie Perley mashed her lips together for a moment, summoning courage to deliver unwelcome news—“there’s a penis on your mailbox.”
It sounded physically impossible, but Lena found herself following Annie across the driveway. There was something so resolute and directed about her.
At the mailbox, Annie raised her eyebrows grimly. Voilà.
Thick lines of aerosol black paint covered Lena’s custom copper mailbox. “I think it’s a face?” Lena said. “With a really long nose?”
Annie shook her head and tapped her fingernail against the copper. There was a decisive ping.
“Only one hole,” she said.
“Oh.” Lena frowned. As far as uninvited penises went, it had a disarmingly cheerful innocence. “It’s kind of friendly-looking.”
“It’s those big round puppy eyes,” Annie said with a sigh, as though the penis was just being manipulative and couldn’t be trusted.
Other properties had been hit, too. Lena, Annie explained—again with that intense eye contact—should not take it personally. Lena was about to respond that of course she didn’t take it personally, but then she realized that she did. The universe had taken a while to deliver a mailbox penis to Lena, but now that it had, her only question was: Why the delay?
“I can help you try to get it off,” Annie offered. She smacked her forehead as the double meaning hit her. “Sorry. I just meant—what I’m trying to say is I can help you remove it.”