"Well, I have to admit I thought you'd be a little too sensible for that kind of thing, but it's no business if mine if you believe in them," I said.

"More than believe. I've tried some. They work."

"Oh, Lucas, come on now."

"I have. When my circuits flipped and I blew out the pilot light and my phone died, remember? That was because I was trying something – it went wrong, but it still happened, Christopher. I know, because there's that burn mark in the ceiling. And – other things. I'm going to try again when I can. That's why I need to tell you, because if it – " he swallowed, hesitating.

"The telephones go out all the time around these parts," I said. "And I'm sure the wiring in that cottage wasn't really very professionally done. The kinds of things you're talking about don't really work, you know that."

"I think they do."

"Lucas, they're as good a way to be religious as any, but you can't expect me to think magic spells actually produce results. Not the kind of thing you can hold in your hand."

He looked resolutely forward. "But they do. I know they do. I told you – these are things we've forgotten, that's why we don't believe."

"Now you're worrying me."

"I'm sorry, Christopher. I don't mean to do that, I really don't. It's just that it's true, and I want to tell you. I'm working now on something really big – the biggest thing. I think I can do it," he added.

"You're alone too much out here," I said.

"I haven't been – the boy's always around for tutoring and the Friendly were here, they came to see me every day. They believe," he added. "I said I was learning things that hadn't existed in a long time, and they believed me."

"They're country folk – they come from a different way of seeing the world."

"You mean they're primitive, and don't know any better," he replied.

"That's not what I said, Lucas."

"No," he answered bitterly, the single time I've ever seen him truly bitter. "It certainly was not what you said."

"Listen, really, it's not healthy for you. Come stay in the village for a little while. You can sleep at my place or I'll pay for a few days at the hotel – if you're out among normal people for a week or two you'll see what kind of madness you're talking."

"I'm not crazy," he said. "I grew up in Chicago too, I can be just as cynical and sensible as you can. But this is real, Christopher, it exists and I've got to try it."

"What are you talking about, anyway?" I demanded. "What's real? What do you think you're going to do?"

"I think...if it works...there are ways of changing. Being something new – an animal, maybe, like a totem or something. Anyway, I'm sure it works, it's just a question of making it work."

I stopped, standing still against the wind, my shoes covered in mud and snow. The world felt more real, in an odd way, standing there listening to what I thought – knew – to be ridiculous superstition.

"You're absolutely insane," I said. "People don't turn into animals, Lucas!"

"Plenty have," he said. "Look at all the stories – werewolves, Greek gods, all those Egyptian paintings of men with animal heads – just because nobody's done it recently...and maybe they have, for all I know. I think you're proving just why nobody would talk about it if they had."

"I'm not going to argue about myths and people turning into animals with you," I retorted. "For God's sake, Lucas, you're talking about werewolves! "

"Well, just because they've been in horror movies doesn't mean they're any less mythical than Zeus turning into a swan," Lucas replied. There was a defensive tone in his voice that should have been a warning to me, but I plowed on ahead.

"And you don't think that isn't ridiculous too? You're not a god, Lucas. You're just afraid of everyone and so you lock yourself up in some shack in the middle of nowhere. It's not good for you to be alone like that."

He was standing very still by then, his breath hardly even misting the air in front of him.

"I suppose I should be like all the normal people," he said, and to this day I'm uncertain whether there was more rage or more sadness in his tone. "Live in a crowded city with everyone else close enough to bump elbows and spend all my time in the middle of it, even if I'm alone in my head all the time anyway. At least then people wouldn't be able to fling my solitude at me as a reason to dismiss what I say."

"If you had any distance on this, Lucas, you'd welcome company more," I said. "Be alone, then, if that's what you want. When you've come to your senses, come by sometime."

His eyes widened fearfully. "Christopher – "

"Go home, Lucas," I said. "This is as far as I go."

I turned and began the walk back to the village before he could stop me, and either out of shock or shyness he didn't try. I shouldn't have said some of the things I did, and I don't think that ordinarily I would have, but he was so calm about it all. Like nothing he was saying was out of the ordinary. Like he just expected me to believe him – and maybe on some level I did, which didn't help my anger any.

The wind picked up as I walked, whipping across the flat ground and threatening to knock me off my feet, but I struggled through it and stomped my way back to the village without once turning around.