ouse bell calling them out of
the woods after a long recess.

A steady rain was bringing down the leaves when Joe woke up. He drove
over to Morgan's house and pounded on the door. When Morgan opened, Joe
could smell breakfast cooking.

"Joe, well, well. What brings you out in the rain?"

"Hey, Morgan, bacon! They say you're cooking bacon."

"They're right. Come on in."

"Remember that time you were hitching to Florida and you met those guys
heading for Georgia because they'd heard that a Salvation Army cook was
serving meat?"

"Some trip that was." Morgan was grayer but still powerful. "So, what
are you doing?"

"Starting over. I've been saving since Ingrid and I split up. I put a
bed in the back of the truck, got rid of a bunch of stuff, and here I
am."

"When did you leave? You want some eggs?"

"Three days ago. That's affirmative on the eggs," Joe said. "I've had
it with computer programming. Jamming all that stuff in your head
messes you up. You wake up at two in the morning and start working."

"Good money," Morgan said.

"For good reason."

"Did you sell everything?"

"Just about. Kept my tools, a couple of boxes of books, some clothes.
Kept the cat, Jeremy, but he jumped ship on Deer Isle at my father's.
Oh yeah, my notebooks, a footlocker full--I was wondering if you'd
stash them for me. I'd hate to lose them; they go all the way back."

"Sure. Maybe you'll write a book one of these days."

"I don't know; all I ever do is look at things and try to describe
them. Should have been a painter like my father. No talent, though.
Anyway, after I took off, I went up to see him and Ann on Deer Isle. He
gave me a painting for Kate."

"How is he?"

"Going with his boots on. Just before I left, he gave me a drink from
his stash of Laphroiag in the barn. We had a country music toast.
'Younger women, faster horses, older whiskey, and more money,' he said.
I asked him if 'children, old dogs, and watermelon wine' wouldn't cut
it."

"Tom T. Hall songs," Morgan said.

"Right. My father just laughed. I think he was trying to tell me
something but didn't know how."

"Hard to communicate at this point, I suppose," Morgan said. "What's
next?"

"Drive out and see Kate. Me and Batman--he's riding on the dash." Joe
gave Morgan the cassette from the Weston Priory. "Try this some stormy
night."

"O.K.," Morgan said. "The damnedest thing . . . I bought a tape of
Chesapeake Bay sea chanteys a while back. One