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"
I
'll
give
you
lunch
here
,
then
.
But
you
'll
have
to
get
some
things
at
the
market
for
me
...
we
're
almost
out
of
milk
and
butter
.
Also
...
well
,
I
'll
have
to
make
you
a
list
.
"
Give
a
woman
a
disaster
and
she
turns
squirrel
.
I
gave
her
a
hug
and
nodded
.
We
went
on
around
the
house
.
It
did
n't
take
more
than
a
glance
to
understand
why
Billy
had
been
a
little
overwhelmed
.
"
Lordy
,
"
Steff
said
in
a
faint
voice
.
From
where
we
stood
we
had
enough
elevation
to
be
able
to
see
almost
a
quarter
of
a
mile
of
shoreline-the
Bibber
property
to
our
left
,
our
own
,
and
Brent
Norton
's
to
our
right
.
The
huge
old
pine
that
had
guarded
our
boat
cove
had
been
sheared
off
halfway
up
.
What
was
left
looked
like
a
brutally
sharpened
pencil
,
and
the
inside
of
the
tree
seemed
a
glistening
and
defenseless
white
against
the
age-and-weatherdarkened
outer
bark
.
A
hundred
feet
of
tree
,
the
old
pine
's
top
half
,
lay
partly
submerged
in
our
shallow
cove
.
It
occurred
to
me
that
we
were
very
lucky
our
little
Star-Cruiser
was
n't
sunk
underneath
it
.
The
week
before
,
it
had
developed
engine
trouble
and
it
was
still
at
the
Naples
marina
,
patiently
waiting
its
turn
.
On
the
other
side
of
our
little
piece
of
shorefront
,
the
boathouse
my
father
had
built-the
boathouse
that
had
once
housed
a
sixty-foot
Chris-Craft
when
the
Drayton
family
fortunes
had
been
at
a
higher
mark
than
they
were
today
-
lay
under
another
big
tree
.
It
was
the
one
that
had
stood
on
Norton
's
side
of
the
property
line
,
I
saw
.
That
raised
the
first
flush
of
anger
.
The
tree
had
been
dead
for
five
years
and
he
should
have
long
since
had
it
taken
down
.
Now
it
was
three-quarters
of
the
way
down
;
our
boathouse
was
propping
it
up
.
The
roof
had
taken
on
a
drunken
,
swaybacked
look
.
The
wind
had
swirled
shingles
from
the
hole
the
tree
had
made
all
over
the
point
of
land
the
boathouse
stood
on
.
Billy
's
description
,
"
bashed
,
"
was
as
good
as
any
.
"
That
's
Norton
's
tree
!
"
Steff
said
.
And
she
said
it
with
such
hurt
indignation
that
I
had
to
smile
in
spite
of
the
pain
I
felt
.
The
flagpole
was
lying
in
the
water
and
Old
Glory
floated
soggily
beside
it
in
a
tangle
of
lanyard
.
And
I
could
imagine
Norton
's
response
:
Sue
me
.
Billy
was
on
the
rock
breakwater
,
examining
the
dock
that
had
washed
up
on
the
stones
.
It
was
painted
in
jaunty
blue
and
yellow
stripes
.
He
looked
back
over
his
shoulder
at
us
and
yelled
gleefully
,
"
It
's
the
Martinses
'
,
is
n't
it
?
"
"
Yeah
,
it
is
,
"
I
said
.
"
Wade
in
and
fish
the
flag
out
,
would
you
,
Big
Bill
?
"
