"The Kiwi's, man . . . awesome!" Max was short with wide shoulders and large dark brown eyes. He had filled out since his school days, but he had the same earnest expression. Max had gotten through the University of Vermont, studying this and that, anthropology mostly, but he'd gone walkabout instead of buckling down to graduate school. Joe had been glad at the time, and now he could see why: Max was calmer, more sure of himself after a couple of years of knocking around. "Let's go get some breakfast." "Lunch," Max said. At the coffee shop on King Street, Joe asked, "Remember that week we spent on Kauai? That was a good time." "Yeah, the Na Pali coast," Max said. "Some place," Joe said. "The whole damn island should be a world park." "I remember that story you told us about the leper who wouldn't go to the colony." "Koolau," Joe said. "He defeated the British Navy. They couldn't get him. He warned them, too. One sick guy with a rifle against marines and cannon--he killed, what? . . . three of them before they gave up? He wasn't doing anything, just he and his lover in the valley." "Yeah," Max said. "One of the great love stories," Joe said. "Made for Hollywood. She stayed with him until he died and never caught leprosy. A few years later, she climbed back over the pali and started all over again, lived a long life. If I were a drinking man, I'd propose a toast to her--and all women like her." "Women," Max said, just like a grown up, holding out his coffee mug. They clinked mugs. "So, what next?" Joe asked. "I've been thinking . . . look at this." Max reached into his pocket and pulled out a little wooden box, deep red with a dramatic black grain. He removed a rubber band, placed the box on the table, and lifted off the top. The box was rectangular with an oval center; a thin piece of stone lay in the oval, tawny and flaked. "It's an arrowhead. Found it in Vermont." Joe put the arrowhead in his palm and looked at the indentations near the base and at the rounded but definite point. The slight weight of it shocked him. Whoever made it had felt the same weight; it had been in his or her palm as well. "I carried it around in my wallet, and then when I was in New Zealand I made the box out of Kauri wood." "Beautiful wood," Joe said. "The oval is perfect for the arrowhead." Max nodded. "I'm going to make things," he said. "That's what I want to do. Furniture, maybe." "Good idea!" Joe put the arrowhead back in its box. "I'm going to stop and see Kate when I get to the mainland," Max said. "Check out her new boyfriend, Jackson. He's into working with his hands. Nice guy." Joe had an idea. "Look, Max, why don't you take the truck?" "Truck?"