AS THE SPARKS FLY UPWARD Read Free

goblets glittered in the firelight, and Snooky had uncorked a bottle of red wine that stood in the center of the table, reflecting a dull crimson from its depths. The kitchen was small but modern, and two bedrooms led off from the main room, both with antique bedsteads and plump quilts piled high on thick mattresses. All was crisp, fresh and clean, and a heavenly scent drifted through the air.
    “Dinner,” Snooky said, putting their luggage into one of the bedrooms. “I went all out. I knew Bernard would need something to console him after the trip.”
    Maya picked up one of the crystal goblets and toyed with it absently. “I can see you’ve been roughing it.”
    “None of it’s mine, of course. It belongs to the people I rented this place from. I have it for a couple of months, then they’re coming back from France and they’ll want to spend weekends here over the winter. Good skiing in this area. They have good taste, don’t they? Not bad for a weekend retreat. Have you seen the Cuisinart in the kitchen yet? All the most modern amenities.”
    “So what’s all this babbling about life in the wilderness?”
    “I can’t explain it, Maya. You have to live here a while and get a sense for it. It’s so
different
from the city.” Snooky sat down on one of the sofas and stretched out his long legs. “You have to be here and smell the air and get a feel for how things work. It’s like your whole metabolism slows down and relaxes. You’ll see. It’s wonderful. I’m never living in a city again.”
    Bernard came out of the guest bedroom. “Misty’s getting her sea legs back,” he announced. “When’s dinner?”
    “It’s almost ready, Bernard. Sit down by the fire and enjoy yourself. I made your favorite: beef stew.”
    Bernard’s grim expression did not change. He sat down and stretched out his hands to the cheerful flames. “I take it there’s no central heating?”
    “This is the wilderness, Bernard. Rural living. Life in the wild. Of course there’s no central heating. I take logs from the woodpile out back and I put them in the fireplace and I light a fire with them and then they burn. That’s how people stayed warm for thousands of years.”
    “Primitive.”
    “But effective. You have to admit it, don’t you? This cabin is a lot better than you thought it’d be.”
    Bernard grunted.
    Snooky turned to his sister and smiled. In the firelight, Bernard noted dourly how similar their faces were. Snooky was five years younger, which put him in his mid-twenties, but they had the same lean, elongated frame and the same intelligent, angular face. Maya had her light brown hair cut in a severe pageboy, and Snooky wore his combed back casually from his forehead, but there was no mistaking them for anything but sister and brother. Bernard sighed and hunkered forward toward the flames. With his massive bearlike build, he sometimes felt as if he had been raised on another planet.
    “Is there electricity?” asked Maya.
    Snooky looked pained. “Yes, there is electricity. This isthe wilderness, Maya. It’s not Guyana. There’s a light switch on the wall behind you.”
    “Does the bathroom work?” asked Bernard.
    “Yes, the bathroom works. There is hot and cold running water. This is Vermont, Bernard, not Mars. I think the stew is ready. Come to the table.”
    The dinner (as most of Snooky’s meals were when he put his mind to it) was excellent. Even Bernard could find no fault. The beef stew was thick and meaty, filled with potatoes and carrots and onions and green peppers, swimming in a rich garlicky sauce. There was fresh-baked whole wheat bread (“Don’t look at me,” said Snooky. “I bought it in the village”), homemade apple sauce (“From fresh-picked apples, courtesy of the Cuisinart”), stewed pumpkin with cinnamon and raisins (“It’s nothing, I made it myself—delicious, isn’t it?”), and red wine. Snooky and Maya chatted, catching up on the past few months since they had seen