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The main dining room at the Rock Harbor Lodge made an attempt at being picturesque. The walls were paneled in light-colored wood, the ceiling cross-hatched with redwood beams, and the chandeliers fashioned from brass co

Park people were clustered in one corner. Patience floated around like a golden butterfly, refilling glasses. Coffeepot in hand, an awkward-looking girl with dark hair cut in a Prince Valiant shuffled after her from table to table, eyes fixed on the tops of her shoes. A

Tinker was there with Damien. They sat near the others but at a table for two. Their hands were clasped together on the white cloth and, instead of the glaring electric table lamps, they shared a candle-lantern which they obviously supplied themselves. Damien tried to catch A

Scotty Butkus was sitting at the head of the main table smoking a cigarette, two bottles of Mickey’s Big Mouth at his elbow. Scotty, like A

A few of the younger people thought he was a semiromantic has-been. A

Next to Butkus was Jim Tattinger, the park’s Submerged Cultural Resources Specialist. A

Between Pizza Dave, the four-hundred-and-fifty-pound maintenance man, and A

Holly and Hawk Bradshaw were conspicuous by their absence.

The pooped-party feel did not surprise A

This get-together had a couple of things going for it. People wanted to see De

As A

As the popping of hands thi

De



“This is the new Mrs. Castle,” Patience introduced her. “Jo.”

So, the bride, Jo, nee God knew what, had opted to be known as Mrs. De

That would have been worth knowing, A

A crash and a curse saved Jo from further scrutiny. Scotty had knocked over his beer. Cigarette butts were floating out of the ashtray and down the white tablecloth on a foaming tide. A

The dialogue was clichéd. A

Damien and Tinker provided it. Damien beckoned with the cock of a wing-shaped eyebrow. Handfast, Tinker’s blond hair permed and repermed into a golden frizz, Damien dressed all in black, they looked like the hero and heroine of an Afterschool Special.

With a good-bye to Dave, A

They led her out of the restaurant and down to the water. At the end of the first in the row of docks, two-by-twelves, destined to be hauled into the wilderness on the backs of trail crew, were stacked. They settled behind these. A

Tinker said: “I know. It’s not so much the smoke as the need. It gets hard to breathe.”

To her surprise, A

“People together by necessity, not choice,” A

“Yes,” Damien said darkly.

Safe in the inky shadow of the lumber, A