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"That's his studio," Cary explained.

I saw no one. The front of the house was spotted with pink wild beach grass, no flowers, no trees. On the side of the house facing us was an upside-down row boat, its hull sun-bleached. There was a dark blue jeep in what served as a driveway. An inky black Labrador was lying on the rear seat and lifted his head with curiosity as we approached.

"That's his dog, Ulysses. He's fifteen years old, half blind and deaf," Cary said. "At least that's what the judge says. His jeep's here, so Kenneth must be home," Cary muttered with some anxiety.

From the moment we had left the house, a small, but persistent trembling vibrated through every bone and muscle in my body. My heart was in a continual drum beat. Cary tried to keep up some conversation, but I could only smile or nod.

"You sure you want to do this?" he asked one final time before turning into the driveway. I nodded and took a deep breath.

Ulysses rose on his legs as if he had to lift three times his weight, but once he was on his feet, he hopped out of the jeep and began barking. It was a friendly bark, not a growl.

"Whenever Laura and I stopped by here, we had the feeling we were being watched, but Kenneth didn't come out but one or two times and then it was just a quick hello and some comment about the weather."

"I'm going to do this," I said firmly. I opened the truck door and stepped out. Ulysses came to me first, his tail wagging. "Hello," I said and patted him. The sight of company excited him and he was licking my hand and rushing back and forth between Cary and

me for our strokes and words.

"Some watchdog, huh?" Cary said with a laugh.

I looked at the front door. It was gray and weather-beaten, with no knocker, no buzzer, no indication the inhabitant of this house wanted anyone coming to it.

"You wouldn't think he had any money the way he lives," Cary muttered. "That jeep's about ten, twelve years old, and the furniture in the house looks as if he got it all at a thrift shop. We were never inside," he quickly added, "but Laura and I once peeked through the window. There aren't even any pictures on the walls. All his art is in his studio, I guess. We never got close enough to look in there.

"Kenneth has eyes that can scare you."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll see," he said. "I think. He might not answer the door."

We stared at it. I could see Cary wasn't going to be the one to knock, so I stepped forward slowly over the walkway, which consisted of small rocks. Ulysses stayed at my side, Cary remained a foot or so behind. I knocked and waited.

The roar of the ocean, the waves breaking on the beach, the cry of the terns, and the whistle the sea breeze made was all we heard. I knocked again, louder.

"What'dya want?" Both of us nearly jumped out of our sneakers. We turned to see Kenneth Childs standing at the corner of the house. He wore a pair of jeans, no shoes or socks, and a faded brown T-shirt. He was long-legged and slim. His hair, a little darker than mine, was, as Cary had described, tied in a pony tail, the end of which reached the base of his neck. His full-face beard was even a little darker. He had a wide fore-head with deep-set dark eyes and a long, straight nose, under which his strong, firm lips stretched to dip at the corners. I couldn't help staring at his face, looking for more evidence of my own, but it was hard because of that thick beard. To me it was like a mask.

"She wanted to come see you," Cary said quickly, embarrassed and made more nervous by the long silence.

"What for?" Kenneth asked, his eyes on me. "My mother told me to say hello," I said.

"Who's your mother?" he asked, without softening his face. He was miles from smiling.

"Haille," I said. "Haille Logan."

He stared for a moment longer and then he drew closer. Ulysses went to his side immediately.

"You're Haille's daughter?"

"Yes."

"Haille sent you?" he asked with skepticism. I nodded, positive he could see through my fabrication. "Why didn't she come herself'?" he asked me.

"She's not here. I'm here, living with my uncle and aunt," I explained and tried to swallow so my words wouldn't sound so tiny. I couldn't take my eyes off him. His eyes were so hard, as if made of stone. This was what Cary meant, I thought.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Melody."

His lips softened just a bit. He looked at Cary and then he looked at me.