All Over Creation by Ruth Ozeki Page A

instructor, but Cass felt she was getting close.
    She went back to the search engine and on a whim typed in “Yummy Fuller.” The engine transported her to another real estate site.
    Â 
    YUMMY ACRES!
Aloha! I’m Yummy Fuller, licensed Realtor at
Yummy Acres Realty.
Looking for your Hawaiian dream home?
A piece of Paradise to call your own?
Let me show you these listings today!
    Â 
    A list of properties followed, modest quarter-acre lots in a subdivision, built on what looked like the bare rock of a cooled lava flow.
    Looking for a fresh start? A place to call home?
Just drop me an e-mail or give me a call!
Let me make your dreams into a reality!
    Â 
    A woman with long dark hair smiled ruefully from the corner of the home page. She was wearing a crown of flowers on her head. Cass stared at the picture, but it was small and indistinct, and she couldn’t be sure.
    There was a “Contact Me” button, so Cass clicked it and started to type. “I am looking for Yumi (Yummy) Fuller, originally from Liberty Falls, Idaho. Her dad is dying, and her mom needs help. If you are her, could you please contact me at [email protected]. P.S. I am her old friend and next-door neighbor Cassie Unger.”
    She sent off this e-mail. Then she addressed an envelope to Professor Yumi Fuller, M.A., at the University of Hawaii.
    Â 
    Dear Professor Fuller,
    I am looking for Yumi (Yummy) Fuller of Liberty Falls, Idaho. If this is you, it has been a long time since we have communicated. I am writing to you to tell you some sad news, that your father, Lloyd Fuller, had another heart attack—I think this is his third or fourth one now, but I lost count—and what with the colostomy (they found a bit of cancer there a couple years ago, too), well, the doctor says now his condition isn’t very good. Although he has always been lucky and beaten the odds, the doctor thinks he may only have another couple of months or so left to him. Your mother, Momoko, is well, physically speaking, but she seems to have a touch of the dementia. I guess maybe it is Alzheimer’s disease or she had a mild stroke, which is what happened to my father, although his stroke was a big one that killed him. (My mother is deceased as well, from breast cancer.)
    I tracked you down on the Internet from the letters you sent to your mother and I hope you don’t mind that I am writing to you out of the blue. I just thought you should know about your mother and father, and maybe you would like to come home now to say good-bye. I just hope this letter finds you in time.
    Sincerely yours,
Your Childhood Friend,
Cass (Unger) Quinn
    â€œI think I found her,” Cass whispered, climbing into bed.
    â€œOn the Internet?” Will was half asleep.
    â€œI think so. I found two. I just hope one of them is her.” She pointed her toes and nudged them between Will’s shins. She eased her cold fingers under his armpits.
    â€œOw,” he muttered. “Cold.”
    â€œI sent an e-mail and wrote a letter. I didn’t say anything about taking care of them. I just said maybe she should come home and say good-bye.”
    â€œMmm. That’s good.”
    â€œBet she won’t, though. It’s been so long.” She curled against Will’s warm chest. “What do you think?”
    â€œDunno,” Will mumbled, trying to stay awake, to oblige her desire for conversation. “What happened back then anyway?”
    â€œShe had an affair with one of our teachers at school. Her daddy found out. She was only fourteen, and you know how Lloyd is. So she ran away. Started a spell of bad luck for Lloyd. For everyone, really. That’s all I know.”
    He nodded, and as he drifted back toward sleep, his hand reached for her like a blind mole, burrowing in the dark. His touch was not deliberate. Just an aimless sort of probing into adjacent soil, down the slope of her hip, up the rib cage. It was this random