“We’ll do the best we can,” he said.

“Good. Thankya.” She stepped back, looked down. “One part of ’ee has no arthritis, nor rheumatiz, either. Looks quite lively. Perhaps a lady might look at the moon tonight, gunslinger, and pine for company.”

“Perhaps she’ll find it,” Roland said. “Will you give me a bottle of that stuff to take on my travels around the Calla, or is it too dear?”

“Nay, not too dear,” she said. In her flirting, she had smiled. Now she looked grave again. “But will only help’ee a little while, I think.”

“I know,” Roland said. “And no matter. We spread the time as we can, but in the end the world takes it all back.”

“Aye,” she said. “So it does.”

Four

When he came out of the pantry, buckling his belt, he finally heard stirring in the other room. The murmur of Eddie’s voice followed by a sleepy peal of female laughter. Callahan was at the stove, pouring himself fresh coffee. Roland went to him and spoke rapidly.

“I saw pokeberries on the left of your drive between here and your church.”

“Yes, and they’re ripe. Your eyes are sharp.”

“Never mind my eyes, do ya. I would go out to pick my hat full. I’d have Eddie join me while his wife perhaps cracks an egg or three. Can you manage that?”

“I believe so, but—”

“Good,” Roland said, and went out.

Five

By the time Eddie came, Roland had already half-filled his hat with the orange berries, and also eaten several good handfuls. The pain in his legs and hips had faded with amazing rapidity. As he picked, he wondered how much Cort would have paid for a single bottle of Rosalita Munoz’s cat-oil.

“Man, those look like the wax fruit our mother used to put out on a doily every Thanksgiving,” Eddie said. “Can you really eat them?”

Roland picked a pokeberry almost as big as the tip of his own finger and popped it into Eddie’s mouth. “Does that taste like wax, Eddie?”

Eddie’s eyes, cautious to begin with, suddenly widened. He swallowed, grinned, and reached for more. “Like cranberries, only sweeter. I wonder if Suze knows how to make muffins? Even if she doesn’t, I bet Callahan’s housekeeper—”

“Listen to me, Eddie. Listen closely and keep a rein on your emotions. For your father’s sake.”

Eddie had been reaching for a bush that was particularly heavy with pokeberries. Now he stopped and simply looked at Roland, his face expressionless. In this early light, Roland could see how much older Eddie looked. How much he had grown up was really extraordinary.

“What is it?”

Roland, who had held this secret in his own counsel until it seemed more complex than it really was, was surprised at how quickly and simply it was told. And Eddie, he saw, wasn’t completely surprised.

“How long have you known?”