, last year."

"The lilacs are even bigger than I remember," Margery said.

"They keep right on going." Tucker took them through the house and
kitchen to a screened back porch. Charlie and Margery sat at a large
table while he brought bread, cheese, pickles, salami, mayonnaise,
mustard, a bowl of lettuce, and a smaller bowl of radishes. He set
plates and three glasses. "I've got beer, water, and--a little milk."

"Beer," Charlie said.

"Margery?"

"Beer."

"Three sodas coming up," Tucker said.

He and Margery reminisced. "Jack had a taste for the good stuff,"
Tucker said. "Five o'clock, regular. Never minded sharing, did Jack."
Charlie ate steadily and accepted another can of beer.

"Not bad, Tucker," he said. He had noticed a small wooden horse on a
shelf when he first entered the porch. During lunch, as Tucker and
Margery talked, his eyes kept returning to it. He got up and walked
over to the shelf. "What's this?"

"Something I made."

"Do you mind if I look at it?"

"Nope."

Charlie carried the horse back to the table. It was carved from wood,
light colored, about five inches high, galloping across a base of
wooden grasses and flowers. There was an air of health about it. It
seemed to belong where it was. "Nice," he said. "What kind of finish is
that on there?"

"Nothing much. Linseed oil, thinned some."

"Mighty nice."

"It's beautiful, Tucker."

"I made it for your mother." It was a statement of fact, but it carried
something extra, like the horse. "You probably don't remember Mesquite,
Margery."

"Mesquite--" Her face began to open.

"Must have died when you were about four or five."

"I'm remembering, now."

"Mr. Randolph brought him back for your mom--Helen," he said. "Got him
at a show down south somewhere. He was a quarter horse, Mesquite. From
Oklahoma originally, if I remember right. Damn fine horse." Tucker
tilted his glass for two swallows. "I used to take care of him once in
a while--when the family was away, you know. Well, one day Helen was
out riding and I was walking along. It was in June. The flowers was all
out. Mesquite got to cantering and I run along to keep up. Never forget
it. The flowers all different, blurring together and flowing along like
I was running through a river all different colors. And Helen sitting
up tall--she had hair just like yours, Margery, short and thick, straw
colored, went with her blue eyes." Tucker slowed down. "Well, I had to
do something.