It was just that everything was suddenly all so new and so overwhelming. He hadn’t even seen Cooper since they got here. They were separated on arrival and now it felt like he didn’t even exist any more. Peter stared at the stuffed marmot. Back home, every single corner of the lake had seen them together and witnessed what they shared. When they crossed the lake on a bed of stars, the watchtower looked over them. The canoe knew their kisses. But not that marmot. That marmot didn’t have a clue who they were. None of this place did. The two of them no more existed here than they did in the ravine the moment Cooper looked back and saw Peter standing there. That look. The horror in Cooper’s eyes, to be seen as somebody other than the version of himself he showed to Peter. That look. Just one, and everything they were together had changed.

Teddy smiled. “It gets easier.”

“What does?”

“This place.”

“Oh, that,” said Peter. “I hope so.”

“I didn’t even know how to turn a lamp on until a year ago.”

“Is there electricity in the whole town, then?”

“Sure. But no TV or cell phones. Nobody’s got those back yet.”

“But how is it all working again?”

“The government. They want this place to be as real as possible so we can practise before the move back into the real world.”

“Like a show home?”

Teddy jumped up in his seat. “Yes! You know about those?”

Peter had seen plenty over the years. River traders, whenever they came hawked, were full of magazines telling you how to stage a home for maximum impact. He just wasn’t in the mood to encourage Teddy any further.

“No,” he said. “Not really.”

Peter stared at the steam rising from the mug and let Teddy scramble for another way in. He was so desperate to keep him talking, he could practically hear him thinking of the next thing to say. He didn’t have to wait long.

“I can point at things and tell you what they are too, if you like.”

“No,” said Peter, “I’m fine.”

“Oh, OK.”

Teddy sat on his hands like that’d keep his mouth shut somehow. But his eyes were burning a hole through the back of a small metal object on the desk and a moment later his hands popped out from underneath his lap and pointed at it.

“Pencil sharpener!”

“OK.”

“For sharpening pencils.”

“Right.”

“Ceiling fan.”

“Yes.”

“For fanning the—”

“And those?” said Peter pointing at the pad of yellow paper.

“Post-its.”

Peter shrugged.

“For making notes and sticking them on things.”

Peter picked the pad up and smiled. “Nice.”

“Aren’t they? The low-tack adhesive allows the notes to stick and unstick real easy. All you’ve gotta do is press!”

“You can reuse them?”