dirt. That was the start. One finger dragged through the dirt. This is the end.'
'That was a different Bobbi at the beginning,' Gardener said.
'Yes,' Bobbi said meditatively. She looked up, and there was a sunken gleam of humor in her eyes. 'A different Gard, too.'
'Yeah. Yeah, I guess you know, it'll probably kill me to go in there ... but I'm going to give it a shot.'
'It won't kill you,' Bobbi said.
'No?'
'No. Now let's get out of here. I've got a lot to do. I'll be out in the shed tonight.'
Gardener looked at Bobbi sharply, but Bobbi was looking upward as the motorized sling trundled down on its cables.
'I've been building things out there,' Bobbi said. Her voice was dreamy. ,Me and a few others. Getting ready for tomorrow.'
'They'll be joining you tonight,' Gardener said. It was not a question.
'Yes. But first I need to bring them out here, to look at the hatch. They ... they've been waiting for this day, too, Gard.'
'I'll bet they have,' Gardener said.
The sling arrived. Bobbi turned to look at Gardener narrowly. 'What's that supposed to mean, Gard?'
'Nothing. Nothing at all.'
Their eyes met. Gardener could feel her clearly now, working at his mind, trying to dig into it, and he had again that sense of his secret knowledge and secret doubts turning and turning like a dangerous jewel.
He thought deliberately.
(get out of my head Bobbi you're not welcome here)
Bobbi recoiled as if slapped - but there was also faint shame on her face, as if Gard had caught her peeking where she had no business peeking. There was still some humanness left in her, then. That was comforting.
'Bring them out, by all means,' Gard said. 'But when it comes to opening it up, Bobbi, it's just you and me. We dug the fucker up, and we go in the fucker first. You agree?'
'Yes,' Bobbi said. 'We go in first. The two of us. No brass bands, no parades.'
'And no Dallas Police.'
Bobbi smiled faintly. 'Not them, either.' She held out the sling. 'You want to ride up first?'
'No, you go. It sounds like you got a schedule and a half still ahead of you.'
'I do.' Bobbi swung astride the sling, pressed a button, and started up. 'Thanks again, Gard.'
'Welcome,' Gardener said, craning his neck to follow Bobbi's upward progress.
'And you'll feel better about all of this
(when you 'become' when you finish your own 'becoming')
Bobbi rose up and up and out of sight.
BOOK III. THE TOMMYKNOCKERS Chapter 4. The Shed
1
It was August 14th. A quick calculation told Gardener that he had been with Bobbi for forty-one days - almost exactly a biblical period of confusion or unknown time, as in 'he wandered in the desert for forty days and forty nights.' It seemed longer. It seemed like his entire life.
He and Bobbi did no more than pick at the frozen pizza Gardener heated up for their supper.
'I think I'd like a beer,' Bobbi said, going to the fridge. 'How about you? Want one, Gard?'
'I'll pass, thanks.'
Bobbi raised her eyebrows but said nothing. She got the beer, walked out on the porch, and Gardener heard the seat of her old rocker creak comfortably as she sat down. After a while he drew a cold glass of water from the tap, went out, and sat beside Bobbi. They sat there for what seemed a long time, not speaking, just looking out into the hazy stillness of early evening.
'Been a long time, Bobbi, you and me,' he said.
'Yes. A long time. And a strange ending.'
'Is that what it is?' Gardener asked, turning in his chair to look at Bobbi. 'The end?'
Bobbi shrugged easily. Her eye slid away from Gardener's. 'Well, you know. End of a phase. How's that? Any better?'
'If it's le mot juste, then it's not just better, not even the best - just the only mot that matters. Isn't that what I taught you?'
Bobbi laughed. 'Yeah, it was. First damned class. Mad dogs, Englishmen ... and English teachers.'
'Yeah.'
'Yeah.'
Bobbi sipped her beer and looked out at the Old Derry Road again. Impatient for them to arrive, Gardener supposed. If the two of them had really said everything there was left to say after all these years, he almost wished he had never heeded the impulse to come back at all, no matter what the reasons or eventual outcome. Such a weak ending to a relationship which had, in its time, encompassed love, sex, friendship, a period of tense detente, concern, and even fear seemed to make a mock