No one was very hungry, but it was a chance for Clay to ask his questions. Ray didn’t eat at all, just sat on the lip of a stone barbecue pit downwind and smoked, listening. He added nothing to the conversation. To Clay he seemed utterly disheartened. “We think we’re stopping here,” Dan said, gesturing to the little picnic area with its border of firs and autumn-colored deciduous trees, its babbling brook and its hiking trail with the sign at its head reading IF YOU GO TAKE A MAP! “We probably are stopping here, because—” He looked at Jordan. “Would you say we’re stopping here, Jordan? You seem to have the clearest perception.” “Yes,” Jordan said instantly. “This is real.” “Yuh,” Ray said, without looking up. “We’re here, all right.” He slapped his hand against the rock of the barbecue pit, and his wedding ring produced a little tink-tink-tink sound. “This is the real deal. We’re together again, that’s all they wanted.”
