Stone Junction

Daniel paused before answering. ‘It’s complicated. I wanted to help my mom, once she was involved. And I wanted to help Shamus because I thought he felt I was jealous that Mom liked him. I wasn’t. I just wanted her to be happy. And he made her happy, I guess. And also because I believed in what Shamus was doing, and because of the excitement, too, I suppose. Like I said, it’s complicated.’

‘It’s all complicated, Daniel. That’s why it’s taking time to sort it out.’

‘So why didn’t you tell him that it wasn’t an accident?’

Volta said, ‘First of all, because we don’t know it wasn’t an accident. Secondly, because Shamus might already know it wasn’t.’

‘How?’

‘Maybe Shamus didn’t intend to leave any implicating witnesses.’ Volta cocked his head slightly. ‘You do understand that possibility?’

‘I don’t believe it,’ Daniel said flatly.

‘Do you want to proceed on the basis of belief, Daniel, or should we seek some concrete information?’

‘Just proceed is good enough. You’re wrong about Shamus, though – but I guess that’s something you’ll have to find out for yourself.’

‘I intend to. I’d also intended to stay through tomorrow and enjoy the good company here at the ranch, but something urgent has developed in L.A., and I must be there this evening. But I can’t leave without asking how you’re doing with Wild Bill and his odd pedagogy.’

‘You’d have to ask him. I have no idea.’

Volta smiled faintly. ‘Well, just remember that from Wild Bill “maybe” is high praise.’

After Volta left, Wild Bill walked over to Daniel’s cabin, feigning surprise when he saw Daniel sitting on the porch. ‘Still with us?’

‘Still here,’ Daniel said absently.

‘What is it now?’

‘I don’t know. Volta… I don’t quite ever believe him.’

‘He’s done right by you, near as I can tell. He is a tad slippery, but that’s because he doesn’t leap to conclusions. Likes to get a grasp of what’s going on, the big picture, before he starts mucking around.’

Daniel said, ‘Is that why you called him last night?’

‘Wrong,’ Wild Bill chuckled.

‘Just a coincidence he shows up this morning?’

‘Hasn’t it ever occurred to you that coincidence is the natural state of affairs? “As above, so below.” Only time I worry about coincidence is when it quits happening. That’s when your ass goes up for grabs. But for now, why don’t you get your little cracker ass up off itself and go fetch the shotguns and a couple o’ boxes of number eights – I told Tilly we’d stroll up the creek and see if we could find us some quail for dinner.’

‘What about lunch? Should I pack some sandwiches?’

‘Probably a coincidence, but I already did it while you were jawing with Volta.’

The routine held through April without significant change. Daniel was restless and increasingly impatient with Wild Bill. The lovely spring weather didn’t help. Then, on the last night of April, during formal instruction, Wild Bill surprised Daniel with a question that had an answer, albeit an answer Daniel was reluctant to provide.

‘You know that skeleton I gave you out of my audiovisual department to help you counting bones?’

‘Yes.’

‘What do you call it? I mean its secret name.’

‘Well,’ Daniel stalled, ‘it’s sort of ridiculous.’

‘Let me judge that. I’m an expert.’

‘I call him “Mudflaps.”’

Wild Bill laughed helplessly, catching his breath only long enough to shriek in delight, ‘Mudflaps! Mud … Flaps.’

‘I’m glad you find me so amusing,’ Daniel said.

Collapsing to his knees, Wild Bill managed to gasp, ‘Me too.’

Daniel turned and walked out the door.

The next day Daniel ignored Wild Bill. He did his meditations and his work, but with an air of bored efficiency and chilly indifference. That night Wild Bill surprised him again.

‘Three holy men were traveling together. One was an Indian yoga, one a Sufi dervish, one a Zen monk. In the course of their journey, they came to a small river. There had been a bridge, but it had washed out in the winter flood. ‘Let me show you two how to cross a river,’ the yogi said – and damned if he didn’t walk across it, right on top of the water. ‘No, no, that’s not the way,’ the dervish said. ‘Let me show you guys.’ He starts whirling in a circle, faster and faster until he’s a blur of concentrated energy and all of sudden – bam! – he leaps across to the other side. The Zen monk stood there shaking his head. ‘You fools,’ he said, ‘this is how to cross the river.’ And with that, he hiked up his robes and, feeling his way carefully, waded across.’

Daniel waited.

‘Now the night’s question is this: What’s the point of that story?’