Aria walked over to the Land Cruiser. She sat in the car with the door closed, holding the little carving of the beaver in her hands. She imagined soaking in its energy. She had never loved an object so much in her entire life. She found the hidden pocket in her backpack and placed it inside for safekeeping.

Later that night, after Luke had returned from town, he and Aria were sitting face to face in his tent, engaged in a theosophical conversation, when Taylor came bounding toward them. “Oh my God … Oh my God, you guys will never believe what happened,” he said, crashing into the tent to sit with them. His own excitement had taken his breath away. “You know how the studio said they were all full, right? Well, I went back today, it’s like the hundredth time I went back there. And they said they have an opening for me!”

He clapped as he said it, not leaving a window open for their response. “So I’m gonna go to the studio twice a week now. One time for a work shift and one time for my acting class … Oh my God, you guys, I’m so excited.”

Aria was happy for him, but she was not happy for herself. She was sick of seeing him disappointed. She was sick of watching him struggle through an experience that so far had been the exact opposite of the success he had imagined it would be. But she was also afraid. She felt him getting closer to his dreams and she felt those dreams pulling him further away from her. Unexpectedly, she found herself afraid to be left behind by him. She and Luke offered congratulations, but neither man noticed the sudden drop in Aria’s mood.

Taylor reached into his backpack and produced three packages of ramen noodles. Luke had to cook them sequentially because his cooking stove was only large enough for one serving. Aria watched him pull out the propane base of his little stove, assemble the other parts around it and start cooking. To her surprise, when he was done with his first batch, he handed it to her.

Unable to wait long enough for them to cool down, Aria scalded the roof of her mouth. She ate them with a fork that Luke unfolded from his pocketknife. The all-too-familiar flavor and scent of the noodles soothed away the anxiety she felt in response to Taylor’s news. She loved the wrinkled texture of them against her tongue. Taylor had picked up the theosophical conversation with Luke where she had left off. And so she resumed her usual observer role and listened to them while she ate. When he had finished, she let Palin lick the remaining broth off the edges of the bowl.