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Show -301 to dance." He waved his arms and did a grotesque capering jig around the firepit. "Look at me, Buck! I'm a witch." "Stop," I said. "We have to talk." He gradually ceased; he sat down on the other cement bench, across the table from me. There was something spooky about this spot that I had picked-he was right. It seemed a place for peculiar encounters, like Malory's forest. The undergrowth was filled with small furtive life: whispers, scurryings, squeaks and snaps, tiny snarls. It was full of place-magic: layers of color leaped straight into my eyes from the trees, the grass; the spruce needles were a particular dusty green; that miserable grass half-covered the sand in heart-breaking patterns; the sky now veiled with iridescent fog racing inland seemed pregnant with messages. "You're going to Denver with Jacob," I said. "OK." "OK? That easily? You don't have any arguments? No questions?" "It's the best thing. There's nothing for me to do here. I can get hold of myself in Denver. In fact you know what I think I'll do? I'll go to college. I've been thinking about that for a long time. Maybe I'll become a psychologist-do you think I'd make a good psychologist, Buck?" "Why not?" "Ah, but Freudian or Jungian? A humanist, an |