Heartsong (Logan 2)

He turned and tapped the hammer harder. Chips

began to fall. The echo resounded.

One way or another?

I hadn't found my father, but perhaps I had

found the next best thing.

15

The Damage Is Done

.

Kenneth and I spent the rest of the day so

involved in our work, we lost track of time. Now I appreciated why Kenneth devoted his life to his art. It was truly an escape from the heavy burdens and the turmoil that often rained down around us. Working together, he and I developed a rhythm that overtook and absorbed us. We were aware of each other, but never spoke and rarely even looked at each other. It was almost a religious experience as Kenneth's hands began to mold shapes and bring his vision out of the block of marble.

So lost in the artistic effort, we were both surprised to hear Holly's knock on the door, followed by her plaintive cries beseeching us to come up for air.

"I ate lunch myself. I meditated, did two personal charts, walked Ulysses until he begged for mercy. Don't you people get tired?" she exclaimed.

Kenneth and I looked at each other. "What time is it?" he asked.

"Five-twenty," she replied.

"Oh no," I said. "I promised I'd be home early to. help take care of Uncle Jacob."

"Five-twenty?" Kenneth repeated. He looked at me, astounded. "Did we eat lunch?"

I shook my head, amazed my stomach hadn't reminded me or complained.

"Fanatics," Holly accused.

I looked at myself, full of dust, my hair almost gray, my face streaked. Kenneth, too, resembled a ghost, the chips and dust turning his beard practically white.

"Someone has to take me home right away," I wailed.

"I will, if only to have some human company for a while," Holly said, glaring at Kenneth, who shrugged off her look of reprimand with that boyish smile that could charm the heart of the most wicked witch.

I brushed myself off as quickly and as best I could and then hurried out to Holly's car.

"The man's dangerous, a bad influence," she said when we started away. "Hang around him long enough, and you'll start to look like him. You might even grow a beard!" she growled. "Do you realize how long you two were shut up in there?"

"Funny," I said. "I don't feel tired. I should, doing that so long, but it's . . ."

"Invigorating?" she suggested.

"Yes."

"Well, I suppose for Kenneth, and maybe now for you, it's so deep an involvement it's like meditating, moving to a higher plane of

consciousness, leaving this burdensome world of woe," she said and smiled. "You do look a lot happier than you did this morning."

She gazed at me again, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"You're wearing a very coy smile, Melody Logan. Something is afoot."