Salt River by James Sallis is two years later and Val is still dead. Turner is recovering. The past is like gravity, keeps pulling you back to earth as you also try to move on and fly. For Turner the past is winning. He is back as sheriff. Val’s musician partner, Eldon, has returned with a problem, and Stillman, the guy who runs the camp in the woods comes to tell of how his former partner was just killed in Memphis. Doc’s word for it is frangible, easily broken. Life is frangible as Turner agrees.
Salt River is reminding me of Lexicon and All the Land to Hold Us. It is strange how I pick books on occasion that work together in stunning ways without a plan, serendipity. Metaphors of our lives as we continually pay attention, just listen, and see the connections. All the loose ends come together in bizarre ways and get resolved fancifully to tears of friendship, joy, togetherness, and because the world is so beautiful. Crying in joy or sadness is like what the rains do to our landscape, they cleanse and clarify it all for us and invigorate us.