'Candy?' Wally whispered. And a little later, he whispered, 'Homer?' He rather liked the idea of steering these two through the blackened world, of being their guide through the night, and their protector from whatever lay just beyond the headlights' reach.

'Well, buddy,' Wally said to the sleeping Homer Wells, 'it's high time you had some fun.' {293}

Wilbur Larch, almost a month later-still waiting to hear from Homer Wells and too proud to write the first letter-wondered about the 'fun' Homer was having. Swimming lessons! he thought. What does one wear for swimming in a heated pool? How do they heat the pool, and how much do they heat it?

In 194-, the pool at the Haven Club was the first heated swimming pool in Maine. Although Raymond Kendall thought it was ridiculous to heat water for purposes other than cooking and bathing, he had invented the heating system for the Haven Club pool. It was just an exercise in mechanics for Ray.

'If you learn to swim in the ocean,' Ray told Homer, 'you'll learn the proper response for a body to make to all that water.'

'But you don't know how to swim, Daddy,' Candy said.

'That's what I mean,' Ray said, winking at Homer Wells. 'You set foot in the ocean, or fall in, you'll have enough sense never to set foot in it again-it's too cold!'

Homer liked Candy's father, perhaps because surgery is the mechanics of medicine and Homer's early training had been surgical. He made instant identification with the machinery with which Ray Kendall worked, both the apple farm equipment and the mechanisms for hauling the lobsters and keeping them alive.

Contrary to Wally's promise to him regarding the humor of lobsters, Homer was unamused by his first look at the creatures. They crammed the tank in Ray Kendall's lobster pound, crawling over each other, their claws pegged shut so that they wielded them underwater like ineffective clubs. Homer knew he had seen a good reason for learning how to swim. If one ever fell in the sea, one wouldn't want to fall to the bottom where these creatures lived. It was some while before Homer learned that the lobsters did not cover the ocean's floor in such density as they occupied the tank. The first question that leaped to his mind did not concern how a lobster ate or {294} how it multiplied-but why it lived at all.

'There's got to be something that picks up what's lying around,' Ray Kendall advised Homer.

'It's the garbage monster of the ocean's floor,' Wally said laughing-he always laughed when he discussed lobsters.

The sea gull cleans up the shore,' Ray Kendall said. 'The lobster cleans up the bottom.'

'Lobsters and sea gulls,' Candy said, 'they take what's left over.'

Wilbur Larch might have observed that they were given the orphan's share. This occurred to Homer Wells, who discovered he could spend time watching lobsters,; with dread, and sea gulls, with pleasure-while watch-; ing both with awe and respect.

Years later, when she became the proud owner of the first TV set in Heart's Rock, Olive Worthington would say that Homer Wells was the only person who ever pulled up a chair and sat down in front of the tank in Ray Kendall's lobster pound 'as if he were watching the news on television.'

Homer pulled lobster pots with Candy's father on Sun-; days-not for money but to be out on the water and to be around Ray. Six days a week Homer worked with Wally in the orchards. The ocean was visible from only one of Ocean View's several orchards but the presence of the sea was felt throughout the farm, especially in the early morning fog, and when a sea breeze freshened the summer heat-and because of the sea gulls who circled inland and occasionally perched in the trees. They were more partial to blueberries than to apples but their presence was an irritation to Olive, who from her early years among the clams had no love for the raucous birds, and who fought with the gulls over the small plot of blueberries she was cultivating-the blueberries were protected with low-hung nets, but the gulls and the crows were smart enough to walk under the nets.

Among orphans, thought Homer Wells, sea gulls are {295} superior to crows-not in intelligence or in personality, he observed, but in the freedom they possess and cherish. It was in looking at sea gulls that it first occurred to Homer Wells that he was free.

Wilbur Larch knew that freedom was an orphan's most dangerous illusion, and when he finally heard from Homer, he scanned the oddly formal letter, which was disappointing in its lack of detail. Regarding illusions, and all the rest, there was simply no evidence.

'I am learning to swim,' wrote Homer Wells. (I know! I know! Tell me about it! thought Wilbur Larch.) 'I do better at driving,' Homer added.

'Mrs Worthirigton is very nice.' (I could have guessed that! thought Wilbur Larch.) 'She knows everything about apples.'

'Candy's father is very nice, too,' Homer Wells wrote to Dr. Larch. 'He takes me out on his lobster boat, and he is teaching rne how an engine works.' (Do you wear a life jacket on the lobster boat? Wilbur Larch wanted to know. You think an engine is so special? I could teach you how the heart works, thought Wilbur Larch-his own heart teaching him about itself, and much more than its function as a muscle.)

'Candy and Wally are wonderful!' Homer wrote. 'I go everywhere with them. I sleep in Wally's room. I wear his clothes. It's great that we're the same size, although he is stronger. Candy and Wally are getting married, one day, and they want to have lots of children.' (Tell me about the swimming lessons, thought Wilbur Larch. Watch out for the swimming lessons.)

'Poor Mr. Worthington-everyone calls him Senior,' Homer wrote. (Ah-ha! thought Wilbur Larch. So something isn't perfect, is it? What's 'poor' about Mr. Worthington?)

He asked Nurse Angela and Nurse Edna what they thought of the name 'Senior.' They agreed it was different.

'It sounds stupid to me,' said Wilbur Larch. {296}

Nurse Angela and Nurse Edna told him he wasn't being fair. The boy had departed with his blessings- more, with his encouragement. They agreed Homer could have written something and sent it sooner than six weeks, but they argued that this indicated only how happy he was-how busy and how glad to be busy, too. And what experience did Homer Wells have with writing letters, or with writing of any kind? they wanted to know.

'You want him to be a doctor, Wilbur,' Nurse Edna said, 'but it's his life.'

'Do you expect him to be a writer, too?' Nurse Angela chimed in.

'And never get married?' Nurse Edna asked dangerously.

I expect him to be of use, thought Wilbur Larch tiredly. And I want him with me; this last wish he knew was unfair. In the dispensary, he rested from the summer heat. All that glass and steel were somehow cooling, and the ether fumes evaporated more slowly in the humidity. He seemed to be traveling both farther away and for longer in his ether dreams now. When he came out of the ether, he seemed to come out of it more slowly. I'm getting older, he repeated to himself.

A beautiful and untouched copy of Jane Eyre arrived from Mrs. Worthington, and Wilbur Larch read more spiritedly to the girls-the newness of the story refreshed him. It even enlivened his weary approach to the sad conclusion to Great Expectations. (He never believed the part about Pip and Estella being happy ever after; he never believed that about anyone.)

A pattern of correspondence slowly developed between Wilbur Larch and Homer Wells. Homer would sketch the barest facts of his life in Heart's Rock and Heart's Haven; he would give Dr. Larch a glimpse, like the far-off visibility of the ocean from the one orchard at Ocean View where sighting the sea was possible. He would send Dr. Larch a page, maybe two pages once a {297} I week or every other week. To this speck on the horizon Dr. Larch would respond with the full orchestration of the written word: questions (which would never be answered) regarding the specificity that was lacking in Homer's last letter ('What precisely is the matter with Mr. Worthington?') and a flood of details concerning the daily grimness of St. Cloud's. As much as Dr. Larch disdained the gossipy instinct of Snowy Meadows for 'keeping up' with the orphanage, Dr. Larch provided Homer Wells with a virtual alumni newsletter and with a calendar of hospital and social events. His letters to Homer Wells were longer than his longest entries in A Brief History of St. Cloud's, and they were written and mailed the day following Dr. Larch's receipt of the most minimal scrawl from Homer.