her protector she folds her arms looking down at valentin and shakes her head, sniffing something familiar about him, like she might know who he is but doesn't want to risk blurting it out—she says, we took her in for a while as a favor, she divorced after a short marriage, we knew her from church, she never attended church with her husband, she didn't appear well and needed a place for a transition to a life away from her husband, i wondered where her parents and the rest of the family were but she didn't talk much about them—valentin says, why isn't she still with you?—the woman says, it didn't end well, my husband here took an interest in her—the man deflates and looks at his wife as if he wants to say something in his defense, like trudie just about forced herself on him, but instead he turns and slinks away with no role to play anymore—the woman says, we sorted it all out, and i can't tell you where she went because i didn't ask and didn't care—the dog appears again but with less edge no barking nor growling, valentin thinks the woman considers inviting him in but why ask for more trouble given what happened with trudie—like the woman says, trudie provided no information about her family, so trudie forgets or ignores him, either way he doesn't exist to her in the new world, but no he can't be sad, he's found his first thread, on his first try, he'll call rene and tell her, you see i'm already producing results, the first trace of someone from the old world—the woman standing there she's folding her arms, her eyes soften with her glasses off, but of concern or boredom or even still fear?—the dog pats around her leg, as if it were about to pee on her, not him, valentin laughs but inside, imagining it—but then now all depends on the next step, he doesn't have one—he says, is there something else, anything else that can lead me to her?—he thinks if he can just get into the house maybe corner that husband of hers, he must know of her, probably he and trudie still meet in a bar or café or even a hotel or keep in contact making their next move, like rene right? all cheating almost certainly to end poorly—this dog really sniffing around maybe with all the excitement during his walk he forgot to do what he was outthere for—the woman puts out her hand, she says, my name is patti, my dog's name is fidget, and my husband's name is ratan, i don't know where trudie is, but come on in and we'll see how we can help—he enters the dog sniffs at him too, its wet nose circles valentin's ankles—smells like cooked potatoes, they walk into the kitchen his shoes squeaking, there's ratan stirring a pot of probably those potatoes, probably won't be invited to dinner not hungry anyway even if he is invited, no thanks just ate—patti wears no socks just toes heading different directions, snarly little things, broken, maybe a marathon runner's, but toe nails still there so, short nails though—she leads him to a room, probably a living room, black sofas, black tables, the potato smell less pronounced here but maybe mildew from old books or newspapers who keeps a bunch of newspapers around anyway?—he finds the black chair, leather or fake maybe, the dog sniffing at his heel, he wouldn't get a dog someday, always a bother to the visiting company—patti looks sideways, maybe he violated a house rule by sitting in her chair, wouldn't be the first time for him to break a house rule, ratan probably would never though or did it once and learned, maybe here where she sits with her dog smoking a cigarette and watching tv but no there's no ashtray nor tv around, so maybe worse just staring into the void stroking the tiny back and spine of her snoozing pup—but she quickly forgives and finds a space on the couch, the pup now as if given orders turns and runs to the couch and makes a big jump, acrobatic little thing—still he sees through the doorway from the living room the kitchen and ratan, stirring the large pot, he takes his shirt off now, from those boiling potatoes no doubt, boiling water and scalding vapors, or maybe boiling beets, turnips or radishes, combined with potatoes, all 4, the whole garden——she says, so i don't know how much i can tell you—valentin says, do you have any pictures?—patti looks over his head as if shocked by a revelation and says, i don't think i do, it's not like we went on vacations together—she smiles at her funny little joke, the dog leans into her thigh, valentin thinks no worries your husband may have a few photos of trudie, hopefully with clothes on, at this point valentin will go for anything—valentin says, so then what did you do together?—patti says, well you know it wasn't so much what i did with her—she throws her eyes to her husband, who doesn't notice nor hear, but treats it as if it's a joke, and a cute joke at that, like she's saying he always leaves his socks on the couch—all the more reason to get it in with ratan, maybe ask him what's boiling in his pot, no time though patti probably getting ready to throw him out—patti says, though despite it all i really liked her, she had some pizzaz that we're always missing in this house, she spiced things up—patti rolls her eyes and shakes her head when she says that, valentin wants to roll his eyes too, but no point making the wrong move to upset her—valentin says, my hope was that you're trudie—patti laughs, the dog jumps, it's a laugh that sounds like trudie, maybe trudie but with another name in this other world? pizzaz, he's not sure of that, not so much energetic but more like putting energy in motion, other people's energy, anger energy—like as a kid with mom and dad, telling them she was on her way home from some friend's house and not showing up until 2:30 am—