year he hid all the peaches away like a pack rat and would not sell any, so Tull and I decided to steal some peaches.
“We went at night, when Freya and Woden gave just enough moonlight to pick the peaches, and we each carried three bags. No wind blew; the only sound was the mayor’s dogs howling as we picked, when we suddenly heard humans sneaking toward us.” Anorath laughed and stomped on the ground, imitating a human trying to sneak in his clumsy boots. “So Tull and I climbed and hid in the thickest branches.
“When we were at the top, I heard a human whisper, ‘Here it is! This is the tree where I saw them!’ and I was so scared I thought I would pee, because I knew old Dennoth would club us.
“But two men climbed till they were so close, I could smell the humans’ stinking breath. I was sure I could smell a gun in Dennoth’s hands, and I hoped only that he would beat me instead of shoot me. I got all dizzy from fright and thought I’d fall until Tull grabbed my arm and pulled me higher.”
Anorath stopped for a long drink of beer. A boy pushed another mug full of beer into Tull’s hands and Tull downed it quickly.
Anorath continued. “The humans began picking peaches. They were only humans who had come to steal the same peaches. They worked several minutes, filling some large baskets—and friends let me say; it’s wrong for us Pwi to always pick the fruit; with their tiny, clever hands the humans worked faster than Tull or I.
“They began at the bottom and picked the tree as they climbed. When they were almost on us, Tull grabbed one human by the neck and shouted in English, ‘Now I’ve caught your ass, you thief!’
“The human squealed like a pig and dropped his peaches. He fell from the tree, and they both fled so fast that when we got down we found a shoe left on the ground. Tull and I took all their peaches and ran home.”
The Pwi laughed, and Tull smiled. “I’d forgotten about stealing those peaches,” Tull said. “That was a good time.”
“Ayaah, I had almost forgotten, too,” Darrissea said from across the fire. “I’m the human girl who fell from the tree—though I’d say that rather than squeal like a pig, I squeaked like a rat!”
Anorath nearly dropped his cup in surprise.
Fava and the other Pwi laughed. Tull had never told anyone about stealing those peaches. He felt a great sense of peace and realized that he had been drinking too much and now he was drunk; yet he was drunk on more than beer. He was drunk with kwea, a deep sense of satisfaction, of merriment, at being with old friends.
Tull sighed. “It will never be like this again,” he said, “with all of us here. All of us drunk and laughing.”
Fava hugged Tull. “Just because we’re married, it doesn’t mean the world will end. We’ll still get together with our friends.” Fava turned to Darrissea. “You must come and visit us soon.”
Tull looked across the fire, smiling a melancholy smile. The slow gravitational wind hissed through the tops of the redwoods, signifying that Thor would set shortly. Tull said, “I hope you’re right, Fava. May we all get together with our friends and laugh often.”
Darrissea nodded her head solemnly, looked at the ground, mist in her dark eyes.
“The peaches were good,” Tull said, “if that consoles you. They tasted sweeter for having been stolen twice.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed the fruits of my labor,” Darrissea said. “I forgive you.”
In Darrissea’s eyes Tull saw only sincerity. “You always speak the truth. I like that in you.”
“It’s a bad habit. One that I’m trying to break.”
“Don’t break the habit,” Tull said. “I find it entertaining.”
Darrissea cocked her head, questioningly.
“I remember when we were young,” Tull said. “Your father was still alive, working with freedom fighters up at Storm Hold. He had come home for a summer, and you were mad at him. You stood in front of Moon Dance Inn, yelled at him,