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"
That
was
n't
an
ordinary
storm
,
"
she
said
in
that
same
husky
voice
.
"
No
,
"
I
said
.
"
I
'll
go
along
with
you
there
.
"
I
had
heard
the
Black
Spring
story
from
Bill
Giosti
,
who
owned
and
operated-after
a
fashion-Giosti
's
Mobil
in
Casco
Village
.
Bill
ran
the
place
with
his
three
tosspot
sons
(
with
occasional
help
from
his
four
tosspot
grandsons
...
when
they
could
take
time
off
from
tinkering
with
their
snowmobiles
and
dirtbikes
)
.
Bill
was
seventy
,
looked
eighty
,
and
could
still
drink
like
twenty-three
when
the
mood
was
on
him
.
Billy
and
I
had
taken
the
Scout
in
for
a
fill-up
the
day
after
a
surprise
mid-May
storm
dropped
nearly
a
foot
of
wet
,
heavy
snow
on
the
region
,
covering
the
new
grass
and
flowers
.
Giosti
had
been
in
his
cups
for
fair
,
and
happy
to
pass
along
the
Black
Spring
story
,
along
with
his
own
original
twist
.
But
we
get
snow
in
May
sometimes
;
it
comes
and
it
's
gone
two
days
later
.
It
's
no
big
deal
.
Steff
was
glancing
doubtfully
at
the
downed
wires
again
.
"
When
will
the
power
company
come
?
"
"
Just
as
soon
as
they
can
.
It
wo
n't
be
long
.
I
just
do
n't
want
you
to
worry
about
Billy
.
His
head
's
on
pretty
straight
.
He
forgets
to
pick
up
his
clothes
,
but
he
is
n't
going
to
go
and
step
on
a
bunch
of
live
lines
.
He
's
got
a
good
,
healthy
dose
of
self-interest
.
"
I
touched
a
corner
of
her
mouth
and
it
obliged
by
turning
up
in
the
beginning
of
a
smile
.
"
Better
?
"
"
You
always
make
it
seem
better
,
"
she
said
,
and
that
made
me
feel
good
.
From
the
lakeside
of
the
house
Billy
was
yelling
for
us
to
come
and
see
.
"
Come
on
,
"
I
said
.
"
Let
's
go
look
at
the
damage
.
"
She
snorted
ruefully
.
"
if
I
want
to
look
at
damage
,
I
can
go
sit
in
my
living
room
.
"
