new mexico 2:3

I walked around to the front, hearing sirens that might have been real. The big house where the landlady lived remained dark. Maya told her we were coming. Maybe I should knock there for an extra key. She's probably awake by now anyway. Jill, carrying Jack, walked down the path from the car. What's going on? she said. Jack was sleeping on her shoulder. Oink, I said. Directly, she pointed under the hedge where a ceramic pig squatted, grinning at me. The key was under its gut. The dogs continued barking while I unloaded the car. When I'd gotten our bags in, the kids were asleep on the couch among Maya's unpacked boxes. They haven't brushed their teeth, I thought, but I did not wake them. I could not find any lightswitches in the dark. In the morning, I would find them in obscure places, above a doorjam, behind the refrigerator. I brushed my own teeth in the dark and lay down on Maya's bed, noticing as I fell asleep how hot it was and how quiet now with the sound of sleeping dogs.

move on...