After all, he'd overheard one of the boys in his photography class talking that morning about looking for a job until baseball season started.

As he turned onto Telluride Drive, Mark began to wonder if maybe he wasn't wrong about Silverdale after all. A week ago it had all seemed so exciting.

Now it didn't seem exciting at all.

Sharon Tanner stood at the kitchen sink, her lips pursed, her brows pulled together in a worried frown. Though there were four steaks sizzling on the grill behind her, she had forgotten them for the moment, for she was watching Mark, who was seated cross-legged on the lawn near the garage, staring blankly at the rabbit hutch. Though she'd been watching him closely for only a few minutes, she'd been vaguely aware of his presence in the backyard for at least half an hour. That in itself wasn't unusual; Mark usually spent at least an hour a day taking care of the rabbits, petting them, checking them, or just playing with them, letting them run free in the yard forChivas to chase, confident that the dog would bring them back unharmed.

But today something was different. Instead of frolicking around Mark and sniffing eagerly at the hutch,Chivas was sprawled out on the ground beside his master. The dog's forelegs were stretched out in front of him and his massive head rested quietly on his paws. Behind him, his tail lay limply on the ground, and though he looked as if be might be asleep, Sharon could see even from the kitchen that his eyes were open and staring up at Mark's face.

Chivas, too, apparently sensed that something was wrong. And now that she thought about it, Sharon realized that it wasn't only today. All week, it seemed in retrospect, Mark had grown quieter and quieter, spending more and more time by himself, wandering around in the hills withChivas after school, or just sitting by himself in the backyard, staring at the rabbits in their cage. But she was almost certain he wasn't seeing the rabbits at all. No, something else was on his mind, something he hadn't been willing to talk about. When Kelly came into the kitchen, demanding to know when dinner was going to be ready, Sharon made up her mind.

"In a few minutes, honey," she told the little girl. "How'd you like to take care of the steaks for me?"

Kelly's eyes glittered with pleasure, and she instantly picked up the large fork from the counter by the grill and stabbed experimentally at one of the thick T-bones that were just barely beginning to brown. "Is it time to turn them?"

"Every four minutes," Sharon replied, glancing at the meat and deciding she had at least fifteen minutes in which to talk with her son. Leaving Kelly alone in the kitchen, she went out into the yard and dropped down on the lawn next to Mark. As if sensing that help for his master had arrived,Chivas sat up, his tail wagging, his big trusting eyes fixed on her expectantly.

"Want to talk about it?" Sharon asked.

Mark glanced at her curiously. "Talk about what? Did I do something wrong?"

"No," Sharon replied. "But I'm your mother. I can tell when something's bothering you. You get quiet. But quiet won't fix anything."

Mark took a deep breath, then sighed. "I-I guess I'm just not sure I like Silverdale," he said, looking away.

"This is only Thursday. In less than a week you've already decided you don't like it? You were the one who was so excited about coming, remember?"

Mark nodded glumly. "I know. And I know how much Dad likes it. Even Kelly's stopped sulking about her friends at home."

"And you don't want to rain onanybodys parade. Right?"

Mark hesitated, then nodded. "I guess so," he admitted. But then, as he met his mother's gaze, everything that had been building up inside him since Monday came pouring out. "All anyone here thinks about is sports," he said. "Mom, I can't even get a job, 'cause I'm not on any of the teams."

Sharon stared at him in confusion. What on earth was he talking about? "A job?" she asked. "Why are you looking for a job?"

Mark flushed self-consciously. "I-Well, I thought if I had a job, Dad might get off my back about going out for sports. I mean, if I was working, I wouldn't have time to play, would I?"

Sharon could hardly keep from laughing out loud, but the look of appeal in her son's eyes stopped her. "Well, aren't you the devious one," she said, allowing herself a small chuckle. "I have to admit, it would probably work. So what's the problem?"

Mark shrugged, and told her what had happened at the camera store on Monday afternoon. The scene had been repeated on Tuesday and Wednesday afternoons, as he'd presented himself at other shops. Today, Henry Spalding's words had been repeated to him again, this time at the drugstore. "What am I going to do? I'm not going to make any of the teams, and I'm not going to be able to get a job, and Dad's going to start riding me."

The two of them sat without speaking for a few minutes, as if the silence itself might provide a solution. Finally, Sharon shrugged. "I wish I knew what to tell you," she said. "I'll try to keep your father from pushing you too hard. But you know your father." She gave Mark an affectionate pat on the back, then scrambled to her feet. "Come on. Supper's almost ready."

But Mark shook his head. "I'm not very hungry," he said, looking up at her. "Is it all right if I just skip dinner? Maybe I'll takeChivas up into the hills."

Sharon considered it for a moment, then made up her mind. He's almost sixteen, she told herself. He has to start working things through for himself. "Okay," she agreed. "But just make sure you get back before dark. I don't want you getting lost up there."

Mark grinned at her, and the change in his expression alone was enough to make Sharon certain she'd made the right decision. "I won't. But even if I did,Chivas would get us back."

As Sharon started back to the kitchen where Kelly was already yelling that the steaks were going to burn, Mark andChivas disappeared down the driveway.

Mark wasn't certain how long he'd been gone. In fact, he hadn't really been paying too much attention to how they'd gotten here. WithChivas romping ahead of him, he'd walked north until he'd come to the edge of town, then followed the winding course of the river for a quarter of a mile to a small footbridge. Crossing the bridge, he'd found three paths leading in as many directions, and chosen the one that would take him uphill. Within twenty minutes they'd come to the edge of the valley and started up into the mountains.

The tree-dotted meadowlands of the valley quickly gave way to thick stands of pines interspersed with groves of aspen.Chivas, his whole body quivering with pleasure at the strange aromas that filled his nostrils, kept bounding off into the woods, giving chase to the squirrels and birds, or anything else that moved. Mark himself kept to the trail, working ever higher. Then, as he came around a tight bend, he found himself standing at the top of a steep bluff that commanded a view of the entire valley. For some reason the crest of the bluff was clear of trees, but in several places the tall grass had been matted down where deer had apparently bedded for the night. Mark glanced around forChivas, but the big dog was nowhere to be seen. The sun, still a little above the horizon, felt warm after the deep shade of the woods, so he dropped down onto one of the deer beds and gazed out over the valley.

A few minutes later he stretched out on his back and let his eyes close. Just for a few seconds…

It was with a start that he realized the sun had dropped below the horizon.Chivas, a low growl rumbling in his throat, was standing next to Mark, his body trembling as he gazed off into the distance, one forepaw raised slightly off the ground, his tail dropping in a slight curve behind him, every muscle in his body tense.