SMALL SPACES BETWEEN EMERGENCIES

Eleven stories, mostly about women in trouble who are drawn to one another—in a first collection that's moving, even when it tends to be formulaic and predictably minimalist. The best here are ``Leaving by the Window,'' about a narrator who travels with her widower father in a series of cars (``After the funeral it seemed we began to look everywhere for her'') until she runs away to New York, where she's raped. ``Rain Dance at Blue Cloud'' concerns a girl whose mother leaves her and whose father deposits her in Custer, South Dakota, at the Blue Cloud Inn, where she works for Louise—the ensuing slice-of-life is evocative and carefully developed. In ``Recovery,'' the narrator meets a new tenant recovering from cancer and befriends her even as the cancer returns in a terminal form. ``The Ways We Hear About It'' follows two daughters who return home to their father and stepmother—where the characters reveal to one another various illnesses and separations. The moments are appropriately small and delicately rendered. The same could be said of the rest. ``News from Another World'' concerns a nursing-home resident who kidnaps a baby for an afternoon; ``Turnaround,'' a father who sees his son for the first time in years and travels with him on crosstown buses; ``Communique,'' a man and a woman who read each other's journals; and ``Boojum,'' a widow dying of cancer who goes to Mexico and comes to an epiphany while staring at a boojum tree out of its habitat, ``a wanderer from a small close-knit clan.'' Such metaphors dazzle and often transcend the bleakness here. A promising writer with a small, honest talent, Moore gives her characters their due and lets them work out their lonely destinies for themselves.