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haul ass. Becky thought that was pretty funny once I’d assured her that both Carter and I had since put away such childish notions. She also said if I ever wanted to try it again, for old times’ sake, to give her a call. Then she put her arms around my neck and gave me a big hug. I didn’t get it; but I sort of hugged her back, and Igotta say it felt pretty good.
    We drove around the lake a ways farther, up past the old Crown Point cemetery and the rock crusher onto some old logging roads that wind back up into the hills like they’re going someplace. Nobody’s logged back there for years, so the only people who use them are hunters and kids looking for a place to make out. Man, you can lose yourself back there.
    Becky had moved over close, and her hand was on my leg. We talked about the game and about loggers and hunters and how many really young people were buried in the old cemetery. Life must have been hard back then. And we talked about the animals that lived there and how they sometimes could tell whether you just wanted to look at them or blow their butts to smithereens. Becky gave them a lot more credit than I did. She said she thought a lot of animals could tell by the way you are. I said from the number of deer and elk and bear you see coming out of those hills draped over somebody’s car, a lot of them were exercising pretty bad judgment.
    Becky said maybe so.
    We stopped at the end of one of the few roads that doesn’t circle back to the main road but stops in a wide meadow. It hadn’t been used in so long that the turnaround area was grown over. We got out and walked toa big yellow pine that stands right about in the middle. I still don’t know why nobody ever logged it. I mean, you could build a whole damn house out of it.
    The sun was barely above the hill, and it was cooling down pretty quick. We sat down at the base of the tree, and Becky scootched in close and put her hand in mine. My stomach danced a little, and my heart was negotiating for space with my Adam’s apple; but I decided when the shadow of the tree reached the stump in front of the pickup, I’d put my arm around her. The shadow got there. Becky picked up my arm and slipped under. I was so smooth.
    “I gotta ask,” I said finally, breaking the silence.
    “What?”
    “Why me?”
    “Why you what?”
    “Who’s on first?” I said, but she didn’t get it. “Why do you want to spend time with me? I mean, you must know you could have any guy in school. With guys like Carter and Johnny Campbell and Mark Johnson around, why me?”
    “You complaining?”
    “Unh-unh, sister. No, siree. Not me. Just curious.”
    “Because if I were an animal in these woods and I saw you here, I’d come up to you.”
    I didn’t have an answer for that.
    “How about you?” she asked after a while.
    “How about me what?”
    “Well, do you like me?”
    “Is a five-pound robin fat? Is a bullfrog watertight? Do da Pope wear a beanie?” I caught myself. “You’re not Catholic, are you?”
    She smiled. “Even if I were, the Pope wears a beanie.”
    “Okay,” I said.
    She nodded. “Good. I don’t want to be wasting my time.”
    The sun dropped completely behind West Mountain, and the air cooled off even more, so we headed back to the Chief for burgers. She paid.

CHAPTER 5
    Monday before the Salmon River game I was on top of the world. Friday night with Becky had been like some kind of dream or something. I couldn’t have wished for a better setup. We went to the Chief and ate, then up to the dance for a while. I didn’t have to hold up the walls. I was with somebody. And we danced every slow dance together (Norm calls them belly dances). When someone would come up and ask her to dance, she’d say I had already asked and lead me out on the floor. The chaperons are supposed to walk around during the slow ones and make sure there’s light between each couple, but Becky had that system beat. She’d dance me off into the dark corner and,