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mysterious face turned toward her sister. “And you. You are Tori…Tori-Tori who buries dolls under bushes. The lilac purple kind. Tori who dreams and dreams, so many dreams. And in the dreams she cries for her father. The doll’s name? My brain doesn’t remember. Tell me, tell me.”
    “I…I’ve forgotten.” Tori hadn’t forgotten at all.
    “In a bag you buried it. The girl who loves to bury things. But love can bring them back again. See? See here?”
    From under her shawl she removed a dirt-covered plastic bag and handed it to Tori. Inside was the doll that she had buried so long ago. A princess doll with golden hair and a flowing gown. The one her father had given her when he went away.
    “Something Wendy. Wendy-Wendy. Golden Wendy . That’s it. That’s the name.”
    At that moment Amanda understood a great deal about her sister that she hadn’t known before. On the outside Tori had seemed strangely unhurt by their father’s leaving. For a few weeks she had cried at night, and Amanda had gone in to comfort her. But after that she seemed okay. Once in awhile she had whimpered in her sleep, but not often. Everybody has bad dreams. All bubbles and light…that was Tori. Always trying to make their mother happy.
    Except for a few times, when she destroyed things. Smashed them. Ripped them up. Always her own things. Never anybody else’s. Things that had been precious to her like the Golden Wendy. She’d said she had lost it. Buried under the lilac bush. How had the old woman known?
    Neither girl could speak.
    “Wondering, wondering…the young ones are wondering. Don’t wonder how. Hows and whys and whens and wheres—who cares? Oh yes, I know Amanda and Tori and Alex-Alex their brother. I know them very well.”
    Rummaging in her shawl once more, the mysterious lady pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed her eyes. “Now look here, just look at this. You’ve got me crying. And there’s nothing to cry about, not anymore, not yet anyway. This is one of the grandest days in history and we’re not going to waste it with puddles of tears. Just look out there.”
    The girls turned and looked at the ocean.
    “Grandfather’s bubbling right along. He’s doing his job. Every bit of it. And you don’t see him crying. So let’s just stop this silliness right now.” She blew her nose loudly and continued staring at the water as though if she looked at the girls more tears would come.
    Amanda and Tori had a thousand questions. But they didn’t ask a single one. A great peace settled over them. Nothing made the least bit of sense, but it didn’t seem to matter. All they knew was that they were with a perfect stranger who understood them better than anyone ever had in all their lives. For a long time the raft drifted through gently rippling water.
    Suddenly Tori crawled to the edge and started to reach over the side. “Is it okay if I get a drink?” Cupping her hands, she was about to dip in. Instantly the lined face jerked to attention. “No!” The command was so loud and sharp that both girls jumped.
    “Don’t even think such a thing. Not once. Not ever. It’ll make you sick. What’s worse, it’ll make him sick. He’s got a very delicate constitution. Doesn’t like being in people’s mouths. Can’t say I blame him. Gives him gas and we don’t want that. There’s nothing worse than riding on his belly when he starts to burp.”
    “Who?” Amanda stared at her as though she were crazy.
    “Grandfather. The Old Man of the Ocean. Who else?”
    “The old man of the ocean?”
    “He’s down there, you know. Deep down, close to the surface, everywhere. All eyes. Never stops watching. But what is the matter with me? Of course, you’re both thirsty. What have I been thinking about? Come right over here. Come, come, come, right now.”
    As the girls watched, the old woman mumbled something to herself, then reached into her leather bag with both hands. To their surprise, out came a small blue tea kettle