Stone Junction

They stayed up late that first night, listening raptly as Shamus talked about precious metals, how and where they were mined, the processes of refinement, their colors, textures, properties, malleability and melting point, their importance in the parallel refinements and applications of human consciousness, their irreducible and essential purity – literally elemental. Both Daniel and Annalee were taken by his passion and eloquence, both excited and vaguely disturbed by the power of his appreciation, which seemed to vibrate between reverence and obsession.

After Shamus had gone down to the guest house, Daniel said to Annalee as she brushed her teeth, ‘You like him, don’t you?’

Annalee rinsed and spit. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Extremely attracted.’

‘I thought so.’

‘And what made you think that?’

‘The black glove.’

Annalee laughed. ‘More likely the blue eyes.’

‘Yeah, but the black glove too.’

‘Good-looking, spirited, intelligent, emotionally alive, surrounded by an aura of mystery and danger – yes, I’m attracted.’

Daniel thought for a moment. ‘Well, don’t get too strange or he’ll quit liking you.’

‘It shows, huh?’

‘To me,’ Daniel said, ‘but I know how you really are.’

Suddenly serious, Annalee said, ‘I wish I knew how I really was. That’s something I really need to know, that I’ve gotten hungry to know this last year. I need some mystery and danger and dark, handsome strangers. Do you understand what I’m messing up saying?’

‘I’m not sure. But it doesn’t matter; it’s your choice.’

Annalee hugged him. ‘Daniel,’ she solemnly swore, ‘you are a joy to my soul.’

The next evening, after explaining to Daniel that Shamus had invited her down to the guest house to discuss the alchemical properties of silver and gold, and that she hoped to be out quite late, Annalee waltzed out the door. Daniel was cooking some oatmeal when she floated back in the next morning.

‘Oh no!’ she declaimed, throwing a wrist to her forehead, ‘what a derelict mother, her lonely child starving as she frolics the night away.’

‘Boy,’ Daniel said, ‘you look happy. You must have really frolicked.’

‘We did. We built a castle and then we burned it down.’

‘Does that mean you made love?’

‘For real and for sure. Tenderly and wildly. Sweet and scalding. Eye to eye and breath to breath.’

Daniel nodded, not exactly sure what she meant but knowing she was pleased. When she paused, he said quickly, ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Sure,’ Annalee said, but it was a nervous permission.

‘Did he take off his glove?’

‘Nope.’

Daniel nodded thoughtfully. ‘I didn’t think so. Can I ask another question that may be rude?’

‘Shoot,’ Annalee said, less nervous now than resigned.

‘Did you ask him to take off his glove?’

‘No.’

‘You like him a lot, don’t you?’

‘More every day,’ Annalee grinned.

More every night, too. She and Shamus began leaving as soon as the dinner dishes were done and not returning to the cabin till mid-morning. Daniel didn’t mind the shift in her attention – he was honestly pleased to see her so happy. Though he still felt slightly overwhelmed by Shamus and his black glove, and wasn’t sure if his respect was based on admiration or fear, he did like Shamus, and more so when Annalee elicited a playfulness that Daniel hadn’t suspected. Annalee, however, worried that Daniel was feeling neglected, and after the fifth night of sexual rampage suggested to Shamus that they should spend an evening with Daniel.

‘We’d better,’ Shamus had replied, nuzzling her shoulder, ‘or I will not survive what was supposed to be a time of contemplative rest.’

The next evening after dinner Shamus joined their study of their temporarily abandoned subject for the year, which was, loosely, American history and culture – or ‘how it was in the old days,’ as Daniel put it. The current text, barely begun, was The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. They took turns reading aloud, stopping at the end of each scene to ask questions or offer comments. Shamus even took notes in a red notebook he kept in his briefcase. His briefcase, like his black glove, was always there.

When Shamus finished his stint as reader, he wondered aloud if school ever recessed so that he might catch up on his notes.

‘Good idea,’ Annalee said. ‘I’m hungry. You guys want some popcorn?’

‘Two batches,’ Daniel said. ‘I’ll melt the butter.’

‘Let’s do it,’ Annalee said, squeezing Shamus’s thigh as she got up from the couch.