Calypso pulled away from Izanami, full of sushi and uneasiness.
She looked at the time.
3:50.
The moon had just moved from Libra into Scorpio as their conversation was ending.
Wait. Wasn’t Izanami the goddess of death?
Somehow, the thought had never occurred to her before.
Now what?
She made her way down through the hills and along the mountainside. Eventually, she was back in the historic district, passing old adobe buildings and businesses as she headed toward the highway and Tesuque.
Guess I’ll catch up on some more rest. Got plenty of time now.
The thought made her eye twitch.
She didn’t have that much saved. She knew she could relax for a little while, maybe even longer than she would admit, but the thought of reaching the point where she didn’t have what she needed scared her deeply.
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Then she would have to choose something out of desperation again.
A little while later, Calypso reached the property where her trailer was tucked away.
She slowed.
Her trailer wasn’t there.
Neither was the landlord’s.
For several seconds, she simply stared.
Then her breathing quickened.
Calypso drove closer and parked where she normally would.
Bits of her life lay broken and scattered across the ground.
A couple of sweatshirts.
A smashed snow globe.
A family photo album, its photographs flickering loose in the wind.
A torn piece of her pentacle tapestry.
Calypso got out.
She hurried after the photographs, gathering them from the ground and stuffing them back into the album.
By then, she was crying.
Her face burned red with anger and confusion. She pushed her glasses up and wiped the tears from her eyes.
Then she looked around.
Marks scarred the pavement where the trailers had been. Dirt had been dragged across the road in long streaks, with strange scrapes and gouges running through it.
The utility hookups had been ripped apart.
Nearby, a man was working on a broken gas line.
“What happened?” Calypso called.
The man looked over.
“I couldn’t tell you. Neighbors called me. Evidently something caught on fire or something like that.”
“What do you mean? There are two trailers missing from here. My house is gone.”
“Oh, yeah. I don’t know. Maybe caught on fire or something. You’re probably gonna have to call, like, the police or something.”
Calypso stared at him.
“Yeah. Thanks.”
She turned away and continued examining the dirt, the scrape marks, the deep gouges in the pavement.
Even the damn mailboxes were gone.