15

There were only six magic boxes in the world, and now Merry's mom Mary had one. The box would normally have cost a hundred dollars or more, and she knew it. She also realized that she was in bed but not sleeping. She opened her eyes. The spot next to her was empty, the covers rumpled and folded over. She heard a tea kettle whistling in the distance.

"Eddie?" Usually she was up before he was, if the past couple of weeks could represent a 'usually.'

Edward popped his shorn head into the door. "D'you want some tea?"

She nodded and closed her eyes again. She hadn't set off for the thrift shop intending to start a little affair, but she didn't mind.

"You're a sailor? She had said.

"Was a sailor," Edward said. "I spent seven years in the Sloan Maritime District and the Sloan Coast Guard."

"Umm ... it doesn't sound very interesting."

"Well, it was. You just have to like the water. I never go near the stuff."

"You never go near the water?"

"Not only do I never go near the water, I never go near water."

"Silly - our bodies are ninety percent water."

"Well, not mine."

She looked to see if he was kidding.

"What about ... tea? Okay, look. You spent seven years in the Coast Guard and you never go near water?"

"I worked for the communications department. Experimental communications. I stayed on land and relayed messages to and from the boats."

Mary blinked. "I'm confused," she said. Edward kissed her. They kissed again, all robe fabric and pillowy curves, which for the moment was sufficient to make Mary forget all the strange stories about sailors who never go near water.