Kelly's car blows a belt, so as Philo goes into the nearest settlement for a replacement, Kelly sketches the caravan. (She's also responsible for the fine drawing at the beginning of this section.) Just after I snapped this shot, Kelly asked how Wagner got the hole in his head. I explained about the mysterious gust of wind in Albuquerque six years ago that toppled W off a bridge & into the Rio Grande, and the equally mysterious gust of wind in the Coolidge, AZ graveyard that swept W from the Devil's Disciples tombstone. The moment I finish the explanation, the completely windless day is interrupted by a sudden strong gust of wind that takes Kelly's hat down the road, along with a bunch of things from the back of the Leopard. "See?" I said. She started to ask more about it, but I figured I'd said too much already.

Aside from Kelly's belt, the Caravan didn't suffer too many other setbacks. Charles left Znid back about 70 miles one night, so we had to wait at the Cattle Call restaurant for him to catch up again. (I have to say, it was his devotion to his statue companion that cemented my respect for The Grape.*) Marilyn's keys were temporarily lost. Burford locked his keys inside the White Courtesy Van. Daniel lost who knows how many items between California and Texas. And Karl couldn't seem to keep track of his pickle.

Altogether tame troubles for such a band as ours, I think.


* Upon Charles's return, Burford compared his rescue of the lost Znid to Lawrence of Arabia's rescue of the lost Bedouin.
It pained me to have to remind them that Lawrence later had to shoot that guy....



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