Pitch looked at him, nodding. “Yes,” he said, “it would have been nice.” Steve certainly must have been thinking about something—and very intently too, Pitch mused—not to have heard him mention the same thing just a few moments before. He wondered what it was that occupied Steve’s mind.

They finished eating in silence, each alone with his thoughts. The short neigh of one of the horses echoed throughout the canyon. Pitch turned in the direction of the horses, then to Steve, whose whole attention seemed to be fixed on the small flame before them. Pitch said casually, “We should have a full moon tonight. It’ll be coming up soon.” The boy was still looking at the flame and Pitch couldn’t tell whether he’d heard or not. “A full moon tonight, Steve,” he repeated, louder this time.

Steve roused himself from his reverie. “That’s right,” he said slowly, “it will be full tonight, won’t it?” Then he was silent for a while, and only his eyes betrayed his restlessness. Finally he asked hesitantly, “Pitch, have you ever had something happen to you that you could swear had happened before?” He paused, groping for the right words. “I mean something you couldn’t have done, actually.”

Pitch was confused. “I don’t quite understand what you mean, Steve,” he replied with concern. “Do you mean something I may have dreamed?”

“Perhaps,” Steve said. “Perhaps you could call it a dream … only something much more real and vivid than a dream.”

Pitch attempted a smile which failed utterly as he saw the intent look in Steve’s eyes. “Sometimes,” he said seriously, “I do something that I have an idea I dreamed about before. I suppose it’s the association of things. It’s never been really vivid, though, and I’m never quite sure I actually dreamed it.”

“This is very different from that,” Steve said slowly. “And it’s all here … now. All this,” and he looked out over the canyon floor.

The expression on Pitch’s face became still more confused. “I don’t understand, Steve,” he said. “Perhaps you’d better start from the beginning.”