'No,» I said. «I guess we can't.»

We looked at each other in the morning sunlight and got giggling. I set the McCullough down on the cement areaway, and kissed her, holding her buttocks firmly.

«Don't,» she murmured. «Billy's-»

He came tearing around the corner of the house just then. «Dad! Daddy! Y'oughta see the»

Steffy saw the live wires and screamed for him to watch out. Billy, who was a good distance away from them, pulled up short and stared at his mother as if she had gone mad.

«I'm okay, Mom,» he said in the careful tone of voice you use to placate the very old and senile. He walked towards us, showing us how all right he was, and Steff began to tremble in my arms.

«It's all right,» I said in her ear. «He knows about them.»

«Yes, but people get killed,» she said. «They have ads all the time on television about live wires, people get-Billy, I want you to come in the house right now!»

«Aw, come on, Mom! I wanna show Dad the boathouse!» He was almost bug-eyed with excitement and disappointment. He had gotten a taste of poststorm apocalypse and wanted to share it.

«You go in right now! Those wires are dangerous and-»

«Dad said they want the ground, not me-»

«Billy, don't you argue with me!»

«I'll come down and look, champ. Go on down yourself.» I could feel Steff tensing against me. «Go around the other side, kiddo.»

«Yeah! Okay!»

He tore past us, taking the stone steps that led around the west end of the house two by two. He disappeared with his shirttail flying, trailing back one word — «Wow!» — as he spotted some other piece of destruction.

«He knows about the wires, Steffy.» I took her gently by the shoulders. «He's scared of them. That's good. It makes him safe.»