causes. Have you thought about that? Just what are your causes these days, anyway?"

She'd said it in a light, joking way, but Kathy, though not the least offended, took it to be a serious question. "The same as always, Crispy. Peace, love, the protection of the environment…."

The individual groups fell silent as Crispy snapped, "Oh, come on! That's all so easy and trendy to say. What are you doing about any of it?"

"As much as we can," Kathy said smugly. She took a deep breath and several people decently averted their eyes from the expanding T-shirt. "My husband and children and I drive into Tulsa and volunteer every Saturday at the local recycling center. I make my own soap—"

"All it takes is piss and ashes," someone muttered. Jane glanced around but nobody looked guilty.

"No, it takes time and love and dedication," Kathy said. Her voice suddenly caught in something between a hiccup and a snort.

Pooky had ignored the whole controversy and was still begging for the picture. Avalon didn't seem to know how to say no to her, but hadn't turned loose of it yet.

"It's a lovely drawing, Avalon," Jane said, getting the conversation back on what she hoped was a less dangerous course. Avalon's next words dispelled this happy notion.

"I did it the night of the prom," Avalon said.

A sort of collective shudder went around the room.

"The night Ted died?" Crispy asked softly, although they all knew the answer.

Avalon looked as if she were remembering a dream that was both wonderful and horrible. "Yes, there was moonlight almost as bright as day. I'd just finished it

when I heard the~car engine start and I thought he would back out any minute and catch me drawing the house, so I ran away."

The words hung in the air. They all knew Ted hadn't backed his car out, but had gone back upstairs to die.