You stand at the sink again, scrubbing again, the basin filled three-quarters with warm soapy water, your panties bobbing in the suds, your white knuckles squeeze whiter, twist the crotch, pumice stone across the folds back and forth a washboard rhythm...

Brita and I start driving north. Our final destination is Salem, Oregon. The sky is yellow and the mountain ridges are a jagged threat on the skyline. Wildfire.