xt?

He was feeling more rested. He'd gotten into the rhythm of traveling
and didn't want to wait around for the other check. He bought a road
atlas and flipped through the maps over a cup of coffee. Key West
looked interesting. Oliver had never been all the way down the coast.
But then what? He pictured himself doing a u-turn and driving back up
the length of Florida. I think I'll hang a right, he decided. Arizona.
Tucson. That ought to be different.

He left a forwarding card at the Post Office and turned west. As he
settled into the drive to Tallahassee, he let out a sigh and relaxed.
He'd made the right decision, although he didn't know why.

The lush green South eventually gave way to the Texas plains and then
the dry highlands of New Mexico. There was something elemental and down
home about New Mexico that was similar to Maine, Oliver found. The
Indians were impressive--silent and aware, not unlike the Japanese in
that respect. New Mexico wouldn't be a bad place to live.

Tucson was a small city in a basin rimmed by desert mountains. The
University of Arizona was a modern oasis in the center. Suzanne's
letter was waiting at the Post Office--a check and a note:

Oliver,

Everything is the same except you're not here. I miss you. Don't worry
about me--I'll be O.K. in a couple of months. There will always be a
place in my heart for you. Please be careful. All my love,

Suzanne

His heart twisted. He was recovered enough to feel bad. That was better
than feeling nothing, he supposed. Oliver mailed the check to his bank
and considered what to do. He was far enough from Maine and had been
gone long enough so that he was beginning to realize that he didn't
live there any more. He rented a motel room and decided to eat in a
real Mexican restaurant, if he could find one. He asked around and was
told to drive out East Speedway and look on the left. Fairly far out
along a strip of gas stations, discount stores, and used car lots, he
spotted a substantial wooden building with a restaurant sign.

He parked and walked inside to another sense of time and space. The
dining room was cool and dark, purposefully shaded from the sun by old
timbers and thick walls. It was quiet. It might have been 1800 or 1600.
The awareness of time stretched further back than anything he had felt
in New England.

He ordered carne secca, beef flavored with intense dry spices that he
hadn't before tasted. He drank tequila and wine. A st