“Now, something you should know about Rodeo is that he’s got magic in his eyes. They’re so deep and gentle and kind that folks just kinda fall into them. Time and time again, I seen it. He’s tall and hairy and clearly not what anybody would call ‘normal,’ so folks always get pretty tight and wary and downright cold when he walks up. But then he looks at them with those eyes of his, and they just thaw right out and relax into a smile and next thing you know, them and Rodeo are best friends.”

Coyote’s love for her father is evident as she describes her father’s ability to charm others by approaching them gentle and looking warmly into their eyes. However, her own justification for using this look to manipulate others illustrates how she subconsciously understands Rodeo’s ability to sway her own feelings in maintaining their life on the road. In altering her behavior to emulate her father, she tries to manipulate others, the way she feels manipulated at times.

“I walked back up to my freak dad and our hilarious, horrifying home and I didn’t have downcast eyes or any sort of heavy heart. Nope. It was all right. It was all right. There was nothing to cry about. There was nothing to cry about.

Sure, I woulda liked to have had another day there. Sure, I woulda liked to hang out with Fiona and talk about books and share secrets and build forts. Sure. But that didn’t matter. We always kept moving, Rodeo and me. That’s the way it was. That’s the way it’d been for years. That’s the way it was gonna be always, I thought. That’s the way it had to be, I thought.”

Coyote’s attempt to claim that nothing is wrong is starkly contrasted by her language in this passage. The self-hatred evident in her “freak dad” and her “horrifying home” reflect her true feelings about constantly being on the move with Rodeo. Her reflections about the interaction with Fiona and how she wishes she could bond with her peers foreshadows the conflict between Coyote and Rodeo that is to come, and demonstrates that it has been building for some time.

“‘Yeah. Remember that little park at the end of the block?’

‘Of course.’ It’d been five years since I’d seen it, but I didn’t even have to close my eyes to picture it, with its picnic tables and rusty old swing set and, most of all, the corner of it that was all wooded and overgrown and wild-looking.

‘Well, I’m afraid it’s going away, dear,’ Grandma said with a sad click of her tongue.

Everything stopped. Everything inside me, everything outside me. My eyes locked on the cigarette butt I’d been eyeing, still smoking on the hot asphalt by my bare feet. My lungs caught in mid-breath. My fingers froze on the phone, clutching it in a death grip. I forgot about the old lady watching and pretending not to listen in, blurred out the sights around me.”

Coyote’s first response to a change in her old neighborhood is to freeze. She has not processed her grief over losing her family members completely, and this change to her home alters her motivation for the rest of the book.