Norton gave a tremendous yank on the starter cord

Whut-whut-whutwhutwhut-WHAT! WHAT! WHAT! … WHAT! … Whut.

Almost had it there for a minute, fella.

Another Herculean tug.

Whut-whut-whut.

«Cocksucker,» Norton whispered fiercely, and bared his teeth at his fancy chainsaw.

I went back around the house, feeling really good for the first time since I got up. My own saw started on the first tug, and I went to work.

Around ten o'clock there was a tap on my shoulder. It was Billy with a can of beer in one hand and Steff's list in the other. I stuffed the list in the back pocket of my jeans and took the beer, which was not exactly frosty-cold but at least cool. I chugged almost half of it at once rarely does a beer taste that good-and tipped the can in salute at Billy. «Thanks, champ.»

«Can I have some.»

I let him have a swallow. He grimaced and handed the can back. I offed the rest and just caught myself as I started to crunch it up in the middle. The deposit law on bottles and cans has been in effect for over three years, but old ways die hard.

«She wrote something across the bottom of the list, but I can't read her writing,» Billy said.

I took out the list again. «I can't get WOXO on the radio,» Steff's note read. «Do you think the storm knocked them off the air?»

WOXO is the local automated FM rock outlet. It broadcast from Norway, about twenty miles north, and was all that our old and feeble FM receiver would haul in.