His eye shone. Rennel nodded, and I could tell he, too, was dreaming of his own muscles stretched beautifully in clear sunlight. And I had an ache, too, and a different solution every other Tuesday. A tiredness crept into my bones. It weighed in my marrow and turned my joints into a sorry liquid. Carlotta’s voice floated clear and soft, calling Angelina.

Sam asked me, “Don’t you think it’s a good idea?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I suppose it’s possible. What about the baby?”

“As long as he’s warm and gets love and enough to eat, isn’t that what babies need?”

“You’re the one reading obstetrics.”

“That’s just while they’re inside. Doesn’t say anything about afterward.”

Rennel looked down at his greasy fingernails. “The thing is, Aram, you don’t know anything about living in the woods.”

And I? I smirked. Only because Rennel said it instead of me.

Sam took up his arguing pose. “The only way you learn is by experience. Spike was telling me he got to be a welder by being an apprentice from the time he was seventeen. He found out how to build houses by helping his friends build theirs, and then building his own. I can’t help it that my mother’s a refrigerator and my father’s an electric can opener, but I have to accept that. I can learn to do things. Think of all those trappers and pioneers coming out from the East. Most of them weren’t even very bright. They learned as they went along…”

He went on. Rennel crouched in the doorway to argue better.

I opened the refrigerator and took out the steaks. Four, red and triangular. The meat was soft in my fingers and I laid the steaks beside the sink to warm a little. Scratched a match to the little hole on the floor of the oven. The blue light of the flames flickered to life in rows. Took another match to the naked broiler jets. I cut chunks of celery and wads of lettuce, ragged slices of onion. Dumped them into a shallow pot and sprinkled it with the dressing. Carlotta’s laugh wrinkled the air sweet and Angelina crashed into the kitchen, breathing loud, her nails clicking on the torn linoleum. She careened off the low walls and occupied the room. Carlotta stepped through the door, smiling. She held up a little yellow tomato.

“Our first tomato! All the rest are knobby and green yet!”

Angelina got up on her hind legs to snatch at the meat on the counter. I grabbed a handful of hairy flesh, loose at the back of her neck, and marched her out the door. She ran around the house and I heard the chickens squawking feebly.

Rennel held the tomato reverently. He ran a finger over the firm skin. “You actually grew something! I never thought you’d do it.”