I sat beside Allen and ordered while Luke removed papers and photos from a manila envelope, slid a stapled set of pages across the table.

“Wild and Scenic River regulations,” Luke said. “I’ve underlined the relevant parts.”

Luke handed Allen an eight-by-eleven black-and-white.

“In case Maggie didn’t do her job. They widened the trail so reporters and the search-and-rescue squad had easier access. Clear violation of federal law.”

Luke handed a final piece of paper across the table.

“That’s the silt level in Licklog Creek since Bryan built his development. That stream had reproducing brook trout in it three years ago. Now you’d be lucky to find a knottyhead.”

“So why didn’t you report him?” Allen asked.

Luke looked at me and shook his head. Despite our conversation on the river, despite what had happened eight summers ago, Luke still believed I was on his side. I wondered if that showed faith in me or faith in himself.

“We did, both Forest Watch and the Sierra Club, and Bryan got fined a thousand dollars. It’s cheaper for Bryan to pay the fine than put up the barriers to keep silt from washing into the stream. He’s a businessman. It’s all bottom line for him.”

“Some people would say you’re making him into nothing more than a caricature,” Allen said. “Some people would say you and your cause lose credibility when you make things that black and white.”

But that’s also what appeals to people, I almost blurted out, that at least there is one thing in their lives that is black and white, all complexity drained away.

“Some people would say that, wouldn’t they,” Luke said, locking his eyes on Allen’s. “I’ve read enough enviro books and seen enough lame movies to know developers are always the stock villains come to take Grandma’s farm or build a housing project over a nuclear waste dump. The beauty of Bryan is he’s the word made flesh. Your worst fears about developers are not just confirmed but transcended. Sometimes I can’t believe him myself. He’s so pure, the same way a shark or a cockroach is pure because it no longer needs to evolve—it’s achieved perfection.”

Luke paused as Momma Tilson set my food and tea on the table.

“At first I thought Bryan couldn’t be that bad either,” he continued. “When I traced the silt in Licklog to the development, I went to his office. I was on my best behavior. No name-calling. I didn’t threaten anything. All I did was suggest he put up barriers between his construction area and the stream. When I’d finished talking the bastard opened his billfold and took out three hundred-dollar bills. That was his solution.”

“Bryan says he brings jobs to this area,” Allen said.