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me。 What if the house or what was left there had no consciousness； no ability to premeditate its actions？ What if the events happening to them were like forces of nature； like a recording he and Zach had somehow gotten trapped in？ Trevor thought that might be even worse。
The bell above the door jangled as Zach burst in and crossed the diner in three great bounds； oblivious to the stares he received。 He slid in next to Trevor； smelling of sweat and beer and crackling energy。 His eyes were bright； his hair wild。 〃DAMN！〃 he said。 〃I fucking LOVE this！〃
〃What？ Being a rock star？〃
〃YEAH！〃
Trevor started to close the notebook so as not to kill Zach's buzz； but Zach saw the list。 〃Can I read that？〃
Trevor pushed it over to him。 Zach read it quickly； nodding at each item。 〃What did you hallucinate in bed？〃 he asked。
〃That I had torn your heart out as we slept。〃 So much for not killing his buzz。
〃Oh。〃 Zach turned those shining jade…colored eyes on Trevor； regarded him for a long moment。 〃When？ This morning？〃
〃Yeah。〃
〃But then you woke me up wanting to fuck。〃
Trevor shrugged。 〃Yeah。〃
Zach thought about it； shook his head； started to say something else but stopped。 Trevor didn't press him。 Zach picked up the coffee cup and inhaled deeply of its aroma； then actually took the tiniest possible sip。 Trevor saw a shiver run up Zach's spine； watched his throat work and his dark…fringed lashes flutter as the homeopathic dose of caffeine took effect。 He leafed through the notebook and found Trevor's drawings。 〃Won't the lines on these pages show up when you reproduce them？〃
〃I'm not going to reproduce them。 These are mine。 I don't feel like working on anything else right now。〃
〃But； Trev； they're all yours。〃
〃I wonder；〃 said Trevor； staring at his hands。 〃I really do wonder。〃
〃Well； look； I have to get back。 I just wanted to tell you we'll be practicing a couple more hours。 You can drive home if you want to…I'll catch a ride with Terry。〃 Zach pressed his key ring into Trevor's hand。 Not just the keys to his car； Trevor realized； but to most everything this boy possessed in the world。
〃Thanks；〃 he said。
〃No problem。 But be careful out there； okay？〃 Before sliding back out of the booth； Zach leaned over and planted a warm； none…too…hasty kiss on Trevor's mouth。
〃You're so cool；〃 he said。 〃See you soon。〃
Trevor watched him leave； then stared at the key ring as if its worn metal could tell him tales of Zach； then glanced around the diner wondering who had seen them kiss。
In fact； no one had seen it but a neatly dressed； pallid old man sitting in a sunny booth by the door nursing his own cup of coffee。 The waitresses called him Mr。 Henry。 He was a lifelong resident of Missing Mile； and until a few years ago he had lived chastely with his younger sister who taught Bible school。 They attended Baptist church services every Wednesday and Sunday。 Neither had ever married。 Since his sister's massive stroke； which had mercifully killed her on the floor of her own tidy kitchen instead of leaving her to linger in some sterile ward； Mr。 Henry had only been waiting to die too and be buried in his own small rectangle of earth beside her。
But that kiss reminded him of a summer's day he had hardly let himself think of in seventy years。 A vacation on the Outer Banks 。。。 a local boy he had met on the beach； his own age； twelve or thirteen。 All day they swam in the vast expanse of ocean； dozed on the soft hot dunes； exchanged their deepest dreams and darkest secrets。 Far from the ordinary fare of schools and families； they became what they wanted to be； they were unimaginably exotic to each other。
They were only lying in the sand embracing when his father found them。 But his father had been a deacon of the Baptist church； a self…styled Old Testament patriarch who； finding himself trapped in the immoral whirlwind of the early twentieth century； had bee a domestic tyrant。 His father had beat him so badly he could not walk for five days； could not stand upright for a week。 And his father had told him he never deserved to stand upright again； for he was no man。
Mr。 Henry had been believing that for seventy years。 But seeing the two beautiful boys' lips meet and the tips of their tongues press quickly together reminded him how sweet it had been to。 kiss the briny mouth of that golden…skinned creature in the dunes； though he knew if his father had caught them kissing he would have killed them both。 Now they could do it in public if they wanted to； with the nonchalance of any young couple in love。 He wished he had been born in such a time； or had been brave enough to help make that time e。
Trevor saw the old man staring。 He flushed to the roots of his hair and returned to his notebook； scowling fiercely。 But as he began to draw again； he could still feel those faded eyes on him。 He was sick of this place anyway； with its odor of grease and boiled coffee grounds； with its rotating fans that emitted a loud； steady ratcheting sound but did not cool the air。
He got up； left a generous tip on the table to make sure his cup would be kept full again next time； and gave the old man what he imagined was a polite but sardonic nod as he left the diner。 To his surprise； the old man smiled and nodded back。
Trevor thought of driving out Burnt Church Road to the graveyard before he went home； but decided against it。 The grave of his family had felt too peaceful； too final when he visited it on Sunday morning。 It contained no answers for him； only crumbling bones。 The answers were in the house； in its dampness and rot； its twenty…year…old bloodstains and shattered mirrors。
And also perhaps in its strange sylvan sensuality； its lushness of green vines twining through broken windows； in the home it was being to him and Zach； more than it had ever been his alone； in the succession of shady days and sweaty nights that seemed as if it would go on forever； though they both knew it could not； even in the galaxies of dust that swirled through late afternoon sunlight like golden notes descending on a saxophone； there in Birdland。
Trevor parked the car at the side of the house； went inside； and got a Coke from the refrigerator。 He stood in the kitchen drinking it； looking at Zach's stuff on the table。 Zach seemed to have chosen this as his room and insinuated himself here。 His Post…its were stuck to the edge of the table like some bizarre yellow fringe。 On the refrigerator he had plastered a bumper sticker that read FUCK 'EM IF THEY CAN'T TAKE A JOKE。 His laptop puter； surely an expensive machine； sat in plain view as if he trusted the house to protect it from thievery or harm。 He thought of Zach breaking into the electric pany last night； just skating right in as pretty as he pleased； as if anybody could call up and read the whole town's power bills anytime they wanted to。 What a silly kid； Trevor thought。 What an amazing genius。
But that reminded him of the kitchen light snapping on； off； on again with no hand near it。 And that reminded him of his story。 Incident in Birdland。 He finished his Coke and walked slowly down the hall； past the bedrooms； into the st