They couldn't sleep. Gig's trailer, settled almost exactly in the same spot where Sunny had met Bugoo so many years before, was comfortable; she felt right at home. It was a magical night; it was good to be home; and Sunny wanted to remain in an awake place as long as she could. She and Gig sat together in the dark, he in his big chair, she reclined on the couch that faced the old piano. They reminisced. He told a couple of the stories of his hard knocks childhood, and Sunny listened, in awe of his strength of character, his fortitude.

Gig laughed when they tried to decide when they'd first met. He told the story.

"I was standing with Al at the counter in the main office at the school when you came sailing in, carrying a bunch of books. You had a bright colored scarf tied around your head, the hot pinks flying behind you like the tail of a bright kite. You were wearing old jeans and a dark peasant's blouse with flowers embroidered around the sleeves. You looked like a hippy to us, like the ones we saw on TV, you know?  We nudged each other with our elbows as we stood behind that counter.  Maybe you even smoked dope!  Oh, yeah, and those high grassy platform shoes you used to wear - remember? Your trademark. You obviously wanted people to think you were taller than your stubby self."

"Hey!" Sunny shouted, laughing. "Watch out there!"

"I remember your perfume; it had an interesting, kind of sweet fragrance, with a tang to it."

"Oh, yeah," Sunny breathed. "I used to wear Nuit de Noel in those days."

"You had a great big smile and sparkles in your eyes. You were wearing those John Lennon glasses. "I'm Sunny Desrosiers," you announced. "Where is everybody?"

"And you," Sunny interrupted, "probably said in that nonchalant way you have, with your old eyebrows raised, "They're all meeting on time down the hall." You probably didn't put any emphasis on the "on time" bit, but I think I remember thinking, "Snot kid. He trying to tell me I'm late?" They laughed.

Gig continued.  "'Shit!' I distinctly remember hearing you whisper that nasty word to yourself, Sunny, right in front of us: 'Late - my first day.' And then you giggled that really strange laugh you had in those days and added a not-so-very guilty "Oops!" for your evil ways.  Gosh, I still remember that crazy laugh of yours - you'd bark it out and then take it back in a huge gasp.  Weird."

"And then didn't I tell you to dance me in the right direction if you pleased?" Sunny asked with a smile.

"Yep. We just stood there looking at you like you were one strange bird, which you were, of course. So I told you where to go, after you made us tell you our names, and then out you pranced - in the wrong direction, naturally. So then we watched you prance backwards, saluting to us as you passed the door, with a huge grin on your face. I presume you finally made it to the meeting. Al and I laughed our butts off. We decided you were probably stoned.  I remember commenting that you talked in exclamation marks."

"Yeah, I probably did," Sunny agreed. "That was a hard day. You and Al were just about the only bright spots I had. I was late to that meeting. I remember that officious butt - what was his name - the superintendent, marching into the room, just after I sat down. All dressed up like a confident cowboy in his Tony Lama boots and turquoise bolo tie. Finally! I remember thinking. Here's an Indian! And it looks like he's in charge! But what a jerk! He slammed his pile of papers and books on the table and, without any introductions or explanations, proceeded to tell us how it was going to be. No room for questions. Then he says his door will be open at least an hour each day and that teachers could always come in then to ask him questions. I thought he might be kidding at first, but I realized he was serious. Whoopdie Doo, I thought. One whole hour a day! Then he hands out this incredibly thick booklet that he explains will show everybody what the school rules and regulations are going to be for the year. We're to read them with our union rep and ask questions later."

Gig got up and went to the kitchen. "Want a coke or something?" he asked.

"Nah. Am I boring you to death? Or maybe you think I'm . . . "

"Oh, no. I just want something to drink. Go on. This is interesting."

"Oh. Okay. So then I asked him about telephone service in our units. I still didn't have a phone, and I needed to talk to Ginger. Remember? My sister."

"Yeah. How is she? I always thought she sounded so great."

"She died."

"Oh, Sunny. Shit. I didn't know."

"Long story. I'll tell you about it later. Any way, he refers me to Gray."

"Who?" Gig interrupted.  

"Oh, you remember - that officious ass who handled the school money, the accountant?"

"Yeah.  Oh, yeah.  That guy.  One of the many through the years before I became the school's accountant, who robbed us blind."

"Yep, that very one."  Sunny continued, "Anyway, Old Tony Lama Man and his boots click out of the room. When I made a joke about his boots, nobody in the room cracked a smile. So the principal, Mister Ferret . . ."

"His name wasn't Mister Ferr--. Oh, good one." Gig laughed long and hard.

"Yeah, he takes us through that book; it takes a couple of hours. When I want to ask a question - of course, I'm the only one who does - he ignores my raised hand and then tells us we're to write all questions down and put them in his box. He intends to deal with the answering of questions at scheduled meetings. I remember that my questions were important, had to do with my schedule because of the yearbook meeting at the end of the day. I was so frustrated."

"That guy was a little prick, wasn't he." Gig commiserated.

"The union rep, Bill, introduced everybody after Ferret-Face left. I noticed that my neighbor, the tall cowboy who'd been at the "show" in the trailer my first night, just stared at the floor most of the time."

"Huh? What show are you talking about?" Gig interrupted. Sunny told him the story. Gig was satisfyingly freaked out about it, and Sunny and he shook their heads together in the darkness.

"Anyway, I wondered what Tall Skinny Cowboy must have thought about his new neighbor with her loud music and funny looking ride. I'd not heard one tiny sound from his quarters since I'd moved in. He was the only one in the room that day to hold on to his poker face when I made a joke as we were all leaving the room."

"Whew. What a first day at school, hey? I didn't know it was so miserable for you, Sunny."

"Oh, no, I don't mean to sound whiney or anything. It wasn't so bad. I have to admit, though, that night wasn't the first one I thought seriously about packing up and going home."

"Hey, know what happened to Long Tall Cowboy?"

"No! What?" Sunny sat straight up on the couch. "That is one of the first and only people I ever met in my entire life who left absolutely not one imprint in my existence. It was like he was a walking dead.  Like, he was my next door neighbor all that time, with the exception of our one little locked door between us, connected by a pretty thin wall.  Spooky, man."

"He went totally nuts just after the end of the school year. Ended up riding a motorcycle around the rez in his birthday suit! They came from town to take him away. We never saw him again."

Sunny chortled with glee. "Shit! I knew he had to be repressing a lot of stuff if he didn't once respond to what went on in my place that year. I mean, Bugood and I were a total soap opera."

"Uh, yeah. We all know that!"

Sunny threw a pillow but missed. "No, we were more like a bad country song." she mused. Bugood's favorite song then was that song Willie Nelson sang with somebody else - can't remember who: "Good Hearted Woman"?

"Oh! Yeah. Waylon Jennings, I think." Gig laughed. "Well, I sure don't think you ever fit that description very well. The woman in that song is a total victim, a martyr to the cause. I can't remember you ever acting like that. You fought back."

Sunny giggled. "Okay. Okay. I did let folks know what I was thinking a lot, didn't I. But, Gig, when I think back to that time, I actually did kind of get pulled into that victim trip, and the journey wasn't always a lot of fun, I can tell you that."

There was silence in the darkness as the two friends remembered the times. Gig got up and turned on the karaoke machine Sunny had brought along. They'd been playing with it earlier. He looked through some of the cd's, uttered a quiet "Ah hah!" and set it up in the machine, grabbing the microphone. Sunny listened with a bitter smile as he sang.

"A long time forgotten the dreams that just fell by the way

The good life he promised ain't what she's living today

But she never complains of bad times and the bad things he's done

She just talks about the good times they've had
And all the good times to come."

That was true: She did only want to talk about the good times. And the irony was that there wouldn't be any good times to come. Sunny swallowed a lump of sadness.

"She's a good hearted woman in love with a good timing man

She loves him in spite of his ways she don't understand."

And later in the song, "Lord knows she don't understand him but she does the best that she can" along with "She loves him in spite of my [his] wicked ways she don't understand."

Gig finished the song, and Sunny applauded and whistled. "So, Sunny. You really think you were that kind of woman?" Gig asked.

"I felt that way then," Sunny answered, "but it was like a persona I put on. It seemed romantic. It was a way to convince myself that I could love him in spite of the differences. And that that was okay. I think I was trying to fit in, too, to be more, like country - or what I understood country to be. But, honestly? I had never thought or behaved that way in my entire life. It was as if something was controlling me, pushing me into this character, this costume that was never, could never be me. It's embarrassing now to realize that I fell into that. That I could be such a wuss! But I heard that song everywhere I went. Bugood loved it, and he played it all the time. It's like I was being programmed! And it set the path toward becoming the true victim-y kind of woman I became, the complete opposite of what I'd always been. You know! I was a flaming feminist when I arrived here. Remember? But that changed. I changed. And not for the better, I think now, although I wouldn't change my experience for anything because I think that, ultimately, I also grew and learned."

Gig sighed. "Gosh, Sunny. You are a weird woman. You know that?

Sunny threw another pillow; that one connected.