"Then don't speak of it again."
… "Are you hungry?"
"Yes. Yes, I'm hungry. Why don't you see if you can make us something that doesn't taste like tar. I'm going to lie down. Wake me if I fall asleep."
"All right."
She went to prepare a meal. The child followed. When the food was ready she called him and they ate without talking. The only sounds were the small sounds of the boy, tapping his tray with the utensil and humming softly to himself. Once he looked up at the woman and laughed: a piece of withered leaf was caught in her dark, flowing hair. The graying man watched them, and only wished he could smile.
Then night came again, and they slept.
*
Four days had passed, with Lawrence gone much of the time. He never said where he was going, or gave any indication that something unusual was at hand. But on the fifth day, as the sun sank and the shadows grew deep around them, he said simply,
"I've got something to do tonight."
He was, if possible, tighter than ever, and at the evening meal ate little. Then he rose, ruffled the boy's head, and disappeared into the second shallow chamber of the back.