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going back inside to talk in the kitchen.
    Ellie waved and gave Buzz a wan, happy smile.
    Buzz and Sam decided to go to Joe's Deli with the cell-phone and wait for the women to hash things out on their own.

Chapter Two
    Whiskey Island Rules
    The following evening, Buzz stood in his backyard watering the grass. Several weeks earlier, he had taken down a giant oak tree to make more room for playing whiffleball with Markie, who was just beginning to show interest in learning how to swing a bat. Teaching Markie how to hit had been one of those iconographic dreams of fatherhood which Buzz had spun to Melwhen they were courting.
    He had the tree guys cut and split the tree into three cords which were now stacked against the back fence. Just weeks earlier, Buzz had trekked to Builders Square to buy topsoil, fertilizer, and grass seed to begin the first battle in what he had described to Mel as the Lawn Wars. It had taken him an entire Saturday: filling the hole, tramping down the dirt, raking it,then seeding. The directions on the grass seed bag had cautioned to water often during the first crucial weeks.
    Since the problem had come up, Buzz found himself watering the little five-by-five foot patch two or three times a day. As soon as the water soaked down, Buzz felt an uncontrollable urge to water it again. The tiny, lime green shoots were growing taller, greener, and stronger.
    He dreamedof a world without electricity.
    Mel opened the kitchen window. "Buzz, you're gonna kill that grass!"
    He did not answer her. He was in his own world, preparing for the New Paradigm, as Sam called it–a world without electricity. A world where trains and planes and automobiles were a thing of the past.
    A world where most of the populations of the Western world had died from starvation and disease,and like serfs, the survivors were spending most of their time trying to grow something to eat.
    Mel came outside and stood beside him, her hands on her hips. Yes, she loved him, but he was always late. Dinner was getting cold. His lack of consideration for her schedule was a cross she bore.
    "I said you are going to kill that grass if you keep watering it so much. And dinner's ready."
    "Oh, uh."He shook out of his reverie. "What?"
    "Dinner's ready."
    "Great. I'll be right in. I'm almost done. Did you say something?"
    "Yes," she repeated with a sigh, "you're watering the grass too much. Do you realize this is the second time since you came home? You've been like this all week. Why are you doing this?"
    He looked down, as if for the first time. The patch was a bit waterlogged. He releasedthe handle on the nozzle.
    "I guess I just want to see something live. I want to see something grow."
    +  +  +
    Buzz yelled "Hey!" at the top of his lungs as he came to the table in the cramped kitchen nook. Packy laughed with gusto. Buzz shouted "Hey!" again, even louder, bugging his eyes out at Markie, making a scary face. Both boys laughed again.
    Melanie rolled her eyes. Buzz called it StartleTraining. From the earliest possible age–usually as soon as the babies recognized sounds and were able to smile–he began daily efforts to sneak up on them and frighten them with loud shouts. Buzz would then laugh as if it were the funniest thing in the world. It took a few weeks of repetition, but now, the boys would invariably giggle when he attempted to frighten them with his loud, booming shoutsor animal cries.
    "When my boys grow up," he had explained, "they won't get nervous or freak out in times of sudden danger. They've had Startle Training."
    Yes, she loved him, but wasn't quite sure if she loved him for this. The boys did seem to enjoy it, but somehow she doubted that the best parenting books had a section on Startle Training. Perhaps, a parent did need to begin the training early.Though he did this every night when he came to the dinner table, his shouts never failed to give her a jolt.
    "Let's pray," he intoned slowly after he sat down. "You lead,