Two days later Peter at the door. Hey. Fingers deep in his beard. Scratching. Hey, Xie says, and lets himself be hugged, Peter slapping his back, it’s not so bad but. Someone could tell him he could maybe slap a little less hard. Got your stuff, Peter says. Xie helps bring the boxes into the garden, stacking them beneath a tarp next to the compost. Both of them panting, midafternoon and strangely warm, sun hot off the white sides of the house. Xie lifts a flap of cardboard. Six-inch silver nails packed together head to tail. Sledgehammer with a gleaming gold head. If this isn’t enough I can get more. Just let me know. No, this is good. It’s great. Thank you, Xie says, digging in his pocket. Offering the hundred-dollar bill his mother sent. We have a donor, Peter says, shaking his head. They’re free. Xie still holding the bill out. Just, take it. Please. Use it for whatever you want. Rent for a new space, or. Whatever. You sure? Yeah. Peter takes the bill, tucks it into his back pocket. Circles the garden. Nice setup out here, he says. Thumbing the leaves of the leeks. You left in such a hurry the other day. I was worried about you. Xie chewing his lip. I’m fine. I talked about Alabama with FKK. We’re going. Peter lifts his head, sudden smile. Yeah? What about your probation? Xie shrugs. Doesn’t matter. Peter’s grin widens. That’s awesome. Glad we can count on you. Xie nods. Anytime. Peter looks out across the stream. Both of them watching the woods. They’re gorgeous, Peter says. Yeah, Xie says. They are. First buds on the branches. You know what you’re doing, right? Xie nods. Peter’s sideways look. You got help? A breeze strokes the birch. P. leaning against a trunk, silver on silver. Yeah, Xie says. I have help. Peter nods, hand again on his shoulder. Well. Good luck, farmer. And he goes.

The first night it rains. Lightning cutting lavender into the clouds. He has his pack, the hammer, the nails. Gloves. A blade to make his mark. Savage sound of water pounding the roof. In the attic it’s so loud. He waits. Sitting beside the body. Skull on the pillow. Eyes always seeing. Something. What. Dark pools. Blow after blow of thunder. The light in the window. P. with his crown against the glass. Chin on Xie’s knee, cape pooled against the floor. Midnight. One. The rain stops. The clouds melt beneath the stars.