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chuckled, her hazel eyes snapping. “Don’t look so shocked. It’s not like he has VD or anything.”
    â€œWhat’s VD?” I almost hated to ask.
    â€œYou don’t know what VD is?” Debbie shouted. “This place really is the end of the world, isn’t it? VD, dummy, is a disease people get who have lots of sex . . .”
    Esther was suddenly behind us, and she dropped her heavy hand on Debbie’s shoulder. “Okay, young woman, you can hold it right there,” she snapped. “You’re not in California anymore, and we don’t talk about such things here in Colonia LeBaron. You’re a member of God’s True Church now, Debbie. You need to remember that.” Esther looked her up and down, from her long brown hair and slanted eyes, dark with makeup, to her bare legs and high-heel shoes. “You need someone with a stern hand to take control of you and straighten you out.”
    Shaking her head, Esther marched past us. Francisca, Debbie, and I stared after her, then Franny glanced at me, her green eyes smoldering.
    â€œThat old bag don’t know it yet,” Debbie muttered, “but she hasn’t seen the last of me.” She tossed her long brown hair. “Let’s go see if anyone is going to Casas to the movies tonight. Sue, is Lane going?”
    The “Casas” she was talking about was Casas Grandes, the city forty miles to the north, where most of our people shopped. The small Mexican city boasted of several markets, gas stations, banks, a hospital, and two theaters where mostly American films, captioned in Spanish, were shown. Other than two villages, one on either side of the colony, and another little town twenty miles to the south called Buenaventura, our colony lay surrounded by miles upon miles of desert. Chihuahua City, a bustling metropolis, lay almost four hours to the south. The border towns of Juarez and El Paso were four hours to our northeast.
    â€œWhat makes you think I know his plans?” I answered Debbie crossly. I glanced back toward the church where Lane and Jay were loitering. I eyed them, wondering what Lane was telling Jay. They finally joined us.
    â€œLet me take you home, Susan,” Lane said.
    â€œHey, Lane,” Debbie interrupted before I could answer, “how about taking us to the show tonight? That new movie with Burt Reynolds is playing and we want to see it.” Her bright eyes made note of his hesitation as he glanced at me.
    â€œOh, she’ll go with you,” she assured him with an airy wave of her hand. “Won’t you, honey?”
    â€œDebbie,” I snapped. “Lane’s going to give me a ride home. We’ll discuss it then.”
    â€œOkay, fine. Well, let me know.” She looked after us as we walked to the pickup. Fleetingly, I felt sorry for Debbie. She seemed so lonely and misplaced. I should be a better friend to her.
    We passed Esther turning into her gate, then Lane swung the pickup around the corner. As we bumped over the cattle guard, a lone woman walked down the middle of the tree-lined road ahead of us. She moved to the right and turned to stare as we drove past her, and suddenly I realized it was Estela.
    â€œLane!” his wife called out, her voice clear and loud through my open window. “Lane, stop!” Suddenly she was running alongside of us and she reached out and grabbed the door handle. “Stop, I said!” she screamed as the door flew open. Panicked, I began to scoot over next to Lane. Estela reached in and grabbed my arm, her eyes blazing. She yanked on me, trying to pull me out of the truck as she ran to keep up with us. Lane held on to my left arm and swore at Estela in Spanish. “Let go of her!” he shouted.
    â€œStop the truck!” I screamed, but Lane ignored me. The pickup careened down the bumpy road, with Estela half-dragged beside us. She hung on to my arm, her face smeared with tears. “Lane,”