I was angry; he had overstepped. “I’ll be fine. It’s what I want, so it’s no business of yours. Is the freezer hooked up then?” I was still surprising myself with this new certainty and confidence. I did not need this man to like me; and perhaps there was some calculation, too: the image of a crazy bitch-lady living nowhere by herself was not a bad one, if the purpose was to be left alone. I could see how the story would spread.

“It’s ready,” he answered curtly. They left and no one said good-bye. I watched them drive down the lane, to be sure that they were gone.

It was unusual for me, this wanting just to be rid of everyone. Or was it? How long had it been there? Perhaps it was just the ability that was new, and it had come with the place, this place. It was pleasing to feel strong.

I was hungry again. I had had nothing since I got here but a bowl of soup and a cup of coffee. I got out an egg and scrambled it, and put it between two slices of bread. I also heated up what was left of last night’s soup. It was pleasant — more than that, it was luxury — to be able to eat what I wanted when I was hungry.

There was the question of wood, and I went out to get ready for another evening fire. There were twigs everywhere, old ones blown off trees and bushes in years of storms and never gathered. But it would not be long before the small pile of logs behind the cabin, left over from the tenure of Mr. Chapman’s father, was gone, and I would have to replenish it. For tonight, I gathered in some of what was already there; but already I was planning how I must get more, would have to get it by myself, me who had never had anything to do with surviving.

It astonished me, how little I knew. I wondered how I could have lived for so long — thirty-four years old and unable to look after myself. I could look after other people, I thought sardonically, but not myself.

The lists, the preparations, were done and the fire was lit; the first day of this different way was finished, had gone into small occasions, and I was pleased and tired. The freezer and the refrigerator made humming sounds, and now and then when the fire touched a vulnerable part of the wood, it would spit and a spark might fly onto the floor and I would have to jump to my feet and kick it back into the fireplace. I pulled the mattress from the bedroom and lay on it in front of the fire, watching the flames sideways. There was so much to be done, so much to learn, I thought I should be frightened, but I was not.