The reason Ruby heard so well what I had to say in those initial letters
was that she could already tell not only that I was taking her seriously
but that she was being understood. One does not care to understand another person if
one does not care for that other. That this is on some level clear to both parties was
the subtext of Ruby's words in this most recent letter. The notion of doing favors,
or being indebted, has no place in such a bond. Had I ever needed evidence that
it was not my words per se but rather the relationship we were developing that was
the instrumental factor in changing her mind about the value of her life,
the proof was there in the three sentences of this letter.¹

I

Tuco had been reading a book on aging. It seemed time to prepare.
But this book wasn't about what he expected. What he expected
was there... but that was the minor part.
"The relationships that sustain us are relationships of mutual giving;
though the giving may at first glance seem to flow mostly in one direction,
such an impression, if subjected to thought and scrutiny, is seen to be mistaken."¹

The doctor's correspondant reminded him of Arlu as she wrote,
"The days pass as usual with happenings, some of which make me happy and
some of which I have to ignore. I look forward to being with those
whose company gives me infinite pleasure."¹

Tuco read on in the book, "Except under rare circumstances,
the sense of aloneness is mistaken. And even in those unique situations
in which it is a reality, a reorientation of perspective can create new relationships
and new bonds, and strengthen old ones. A fresh look may even bring
fresh realizations related to Ruby's meaning when she, in understatement,
writes, 'Life still has its charms.' These charms are to be found everywhere."¹

Tuco looked out across the street in front of his daughter's place.
A very urban, dynamic neighborhood. He wondered what Arlu was doing today.

"So long as we love we serve;
so long as we are loved by others,
I would almost say that we are indispensable;
and no man is useless while he has a friend."²

II

Tuco had known some folks who didn't understand the value of a friend.
He found that sometimes others needed to either feel indispensable
or wanted him to settle into that role for them.

Never felt right either way.

So he'd ride off and just keep riding.
Sometimes he wondered if that helped the other person
or if it confirmed their certainty about how life worked.
Dunno, he thought, didn't matter.
No changing the mind set on a mission.

Life is really simple,
but we insist on making it complicated.ª

III

Tuco thought of Arlu, remembered, years ago, how
she was so lovely, all bony and downy and pale and fat in the right places.*
He thought about how she'd aged well, still lovely in the right places.

He turned to the calendar she insisted on having on the wall.
She's a few days yet before being home. Their working trips and loops of travel
messed with their companionship... yet, somehow, it always worked right.

He slowly realised that somehow that calendar was her promise
to return... to always return. How ever long it took, it took
then
return.

As you simplify your life,
the laws of the universe will be simpler;
solitude will not be solitude,
poverty will not be poverty,
nor weakness weakness. ³

IV

Somehow the day settled into a simple rhythm, whether with Arlu or not,
the day moved without loneliness. There was always things to observe, to feel.
A wealth of life and living to do each day. Helping
or being helped. Sharing or gathering for sharing later.
Indeed, no man is useless while he has a friend.

Tuco turned to introspection, "the journey itself is home."~
Two homes meeting. Again. Again.  Again.