Agnes waved and started to walk up to his truck. Her mother had always liked Ranger Bob, and so had she. She’d never seen him outside Post before. But before she could get close, he shook his head and shooed her away. He pulled out a clipboard and a pen and stared intently at the other two Rangers. She stayed put, but she scowled and hoped he would see. She wanted a treat.

The Rangers took attendance with a new roster, one that included the Newcomers. When Bea’s name was called, there was silence. The Rangers looked at them with irritation. Then one said, “Oh, she’s the deserter.”

They conferred.

“Then why is she on this list?”

“Dunno, this is the list Bob gave us.”

“Should we cross her off?”

“No, we’re not supposed to do that. Bob made the list, so . . .”

“So just leave her name and mark her absent?”

“You’re asking the wrong guy.”

“Well, you’re the guy who said not to cross it off, so far as I’m concerned you are the absolute right guy.”

“Why don’t we ask Bob?”

“Do you want to get fired?”

“Hey, Meg, can you calm down?”

They stared at each other, breathing fast for a moment. Then the anger slowly melted from their faces. Finally, they laughed.

“Okay, folks,” the Ranger named Meg said, addressing the group again. “You know why we’re here, dontcha?”

“You’ll need to move on,” the other Ranger said.

They walked around, pointing to the bent and blistered grass under the smoking tent, the pit toilet that was too full. “You know you need to dig a new hole once it reaches halfway,” said Ranger Meg, jabbing into the pit with a stick. They claimed the pinyons had been overharvested.

“This all needs to go,” the other Ranger said, drawing a circle in the air that was supposed to encompass all their belongings and them.

“And make sure you do a micro trash sweep because I can see a lot of it,” Ranger Meg said, gesturing at a patch of clean dirt.

“Should we go to Middle Post?” Glen asked.

The Rangers shook their heads. “No. This time you’ll go to Upper Middle.”

The Rangers turned to go.

“Wait,” Glen said. “What do you know about the chairs down by the river where we picked up these new recruits?”

“What chairs?”

“Well, a circle of chairs, old recliners, sofas. All organized as though there’s been a meeting sometime in the past.”

“The recent past,” Val cut in.

Ranger Meg and the other Ranger looked at each other. Again they stared intently. The other Ranger muttered through stiff ventriloquist lips, “Should we get Bob?”

Ranger Meg shook her head. She turned to the Community. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. “And so we don’t need to worry about it.”

“Okay, well, what about the body up on Winter Ridge, do you know about that?” Val was riled up.

Carl elbowed her.

The Rangers exchanged looks while trying to seem like they weren’t.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ranger Meg said again, but her tone was high and excited.

“A body, you say? Where’d you say again?” the other Ranger asked. His voice had taken on a dramatic curiosity.

Carl elbowed Val again to keep her mouth shut.

“On Winter Ridge,” Carl said casually. He poked a finger into the air above him. “Up there. We figured he was a visitor of one of the Rangers. He wasn’t dressed for the place.”

Ranger Meg and the other Ranger exchanged more looks. “Oh, right,” Ranger Meg said. “That must be Brad’s uncle.”

“What?” the other Ranger said.

“You know, Brad’s uncle,” Ranger Meg hissed.

“Brad—”

“We got it,” Ranger Meg said. “We’ll get on that. Poor Brad. Anything else?”

The Originalists and the Newcomers shook their heads cautiously.

The two Rangers went back to their truck and filled out their own paperwork. Agnes turned toward Ranger Bob.

Now he was smiling, beckoning her. But his smile turned into a frown as she got closer.

He rolled down his window.

“You doing okay?”

“Yeah,” she said.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Why?”

He shrugged. “You’re skinny.”

She looked down at herself. She always looked like this. She looked back at the Community. The Newcomers were still fat and the Originalists were still skinny, just like it had always been. But she saw Glen slumped on a log. He looked the skinniest. He’d developed an awful, wracking cough recently, and looking at him now, she realized how sick he looked. Agnes said, “Now, Glen—he’s really skinny. I think he’s sick. He coughs a lot. Can you help him?”

Ranger Bob looked around. Lowered his voice. “You know I can’t, sweetie.”

She stepped onto the runner of the truck and tried to peer inside. She wanted him to give her a treat. He once gave her a banana. Another time an apple.

“You look real hungry.”

Her eyes widened. She stuck out her tongue, pawed her hands, and begged like a kit. “Don’t you have something for me?”

“I’m serious. You sure you’re okay?” he asked again. His quietness made her feel like he was stalling.

She slapped her hands on the door. “I want a treat,” she said sternly.

He chuckled. “Well, you seem okay, that’s for sure.” He dug into his pocket and brought out two green lollipops. “I brought your favorite. Now don’t tell anyone,” he said. “Put them in your bag. I wish I had more.”

She slid them into her bag. The plastic crinkled. It was so loud. “Shhh,” she said. She looked at them in the bottom of her bag, catching light, the green so unnatural. It was a lollipop, she knew, but she couldn’t remember when she’d ever had one. Why did he think they were her favorite? “What’re you doing here?”

“On patrol.”

“I didn’t think you ever left Middle Post.”

He laughed. “Well, I have a new job. I train new Rangers.” He nodded over to where the Rangers were anxiously leafing through papers. He shook his head. “I’m out and about a lot now.”

“Do you miss Middle Post?”

“Well, Middle Post is closed now.”

“Forever?”

“I’m not sure. I hope not. I kind of prefer just hanging out at Post if you want to know the truth, but this is a good job too. I get to see more. And it pays the bills.” He shrugged.

“What kind of bills does a Ranger have?”

“Regular old bills. Everyone has bills.”

“I don’t.”

“You’re a kid.”

Agnes puffed her chest. “I’m a leader.”

Ranger Bob’s eyes widened in surprise; then he became very solemn and saluted her.

“You don’t have to do that,” she said bashfully.

“I think I’ll try to talk to your mom soon,” he said. “Do you want me to tell her anything for you?”

She blinked. “How are you going to talk to my mom?” she said.

“I’m going to call her. On the phone. I want to tell her I saw you and Glen.”

“But she’s dead.”

His face fell, but then he smiled. “Sweetheart, she’s okay. She’s just in the City. You know that.”

Agnes gripped the door. She thought she might fall. It’s not that she didn’t know, deep down, that her mother wasn’t dead. But she felt dead. What Agnes couldn’t believe was that she might be so easily accessible. A telephone. If Agnes was by a telephone, the distance might not have seemed so vast. But she lived in the Wilderness. Her mother was running around the City taking calls from Ranger Bob.

“Do you talk to her often?”

“No, but I’ve talked to her.”

“Why?”

“She asked me to look out for you. Have you talked to her?”

Agnes frowned. “Of course not.”

“Not even at Post? They were supposed to let you call her.”

Agnes’s eyes swam. She studied Ranger Bob’s knuckle hair on the hand that was slung over the steering wheel. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d been to Post. Or if she had ever used a telephone in her life. She shook her head.

“Oh. Well.” He searched for something to say.

“How is she?” Agnes asked. She kept her tone even like an adult would.

“She’s okay. She misses you like crazy.”

Agnes laughed like an adult would, like Val often did, theatrically, cynically. “Ha-ha,” she said. “Now that’s funny.”

“She does.”

Agnes laughed for real. Something newly bitter released from her. “Maybe,” she said. She squatted down to play with the dirt, but her body felt achy as though she had aged and become someone like Dr. Harold, who always cursed his stiff knees in the mornings.

“Well, I’m going to tell her I saw you. You and Glen.”

“If you want.” Agnes didn’t look up.

He started his car.

“Who is Brad?” she asked.

“Brad?”

“Ranger Brad? Wasn’t his uncle visiting?”

He scrunched his face, still worried. “There’s no Ranger Brad. Is this one of your make-believe games?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I heard the coyotes talking about him.” She smiled and he laughed. She had offered a lightened mood and so his shoulders relaxed.

“Well,” he said, “Brad’s uncle must be a friend of theirs then. You tell that Carl to give you some extra food tonight. Tell him Bob said to.”

She nodded. She would never do that. She got the same amount as everyone else. She was certain of it.