He shook his head and began walking back up the beach to the lighthouse. "No Evan, that was the last of the fight in me. Their guns made it too easy to kill. Fighting lost its virtue for me when a man could no longer blow his last breath in your face. Since then, I have led a much more simple existence. I found to my surprise that it is much better suited for us than the lifestyles most of the others embrace."

I looked up at the tower and thought he probably had little choice in the matter. He was bored of living as they lived now, yet left alone in his boredom because the others had resolved not to come to his same end. I couldn't blame them.

"When is the best time to go fishing?" I asked.

He looked up at the sun then back at the tide level. "About now is good. Go ahead if you like, but do not forget to shield yourself from the sun. Tonight we will eat whatever you catch," he said, stepping up onto the shelf of dry earth above the sandy beach.

I returned for the poles and prepared the bait before settling in to fish for dinner and an answer for Samas.

I walked through the door later that afternoon carrying the three fish I'd caught only to find Clovis sitting at the table, inked brush in hand above coarse brown paper. "Set them by the pot," he said, looking my way only for a moment. "Beware the thin silver one, it is not healthy to eat of it."

I set it aside. "Are the others okay?"

"Yes." He concentrated on a series of complex strokes. I wiped my hands on my pants and peered over his shoulder. "It is an apology but it is really an exercise about perfection," he volunteered before I could ask. "Calligraphy, not unlike gardening, is a practice in both." Strange Japanese characters emerged effortlessly onto the page from the end of his slender brush. He filled the paper from top to bottom and right to left. He dipped the brush into the short bottle of ink and quickly scrawled a line of Arabic across the bottom of the page. "There, it is done. Let us have a look at your catch."

"Is there anything I can help with?" I asked.

"Is your foot well?" he countered.

"Yes, I've been walking today without the cane and it feels fine."

He handed me a large sewn leather bag. "You may go for water then. The well is beyond the garden. There is a footpath to show you the way. Go now before it gets dark."