Dusk found the yard full of crickets and the day cleaning up after itself. I stepped onto the porch with a bowl of peels for the compost and stopped because Albert sat on the steps, elbows on his knees, looking like a man who'd told a joke and started to wonder if it had been funny.
“You're early," I said.
“I'm dramatic," he said. “How's the soup?"
“Gone," I said. “How's the Council?"
“Bored without me," he said cheerfully. “They'll send word tomorrow about the winter. They used phrases like 'stability mandate' and 'interim stewardship' and all the other ways men say 'please fix our mess without making us look small.'"
“And you?"
“I said I was thinking," he answered. “Then I left before they could ask me to think faster." He stood. “Walk?"
We took the path behind the house where the
