He closed his eyes tightly, opened them, blinked and watched the island through the snow.
"I miss Lilla," Matt said forlornly. "She was my friend."
"I know, pal. I know."
He had to wipe flakes from the lenses with his gloves, and the view was slightly blurred. "Can I look?"
One last sweep of the dead island, and he slipped the strap from around his neck, handed the binoculars to the boy and put a hand on his shoulder. "Not too long," he said. "Your mother's waiting for us, remember?"
Matt nodded, and looked, and when he'd had enough he took Colin's hand and they walked back to the road. Peg was standing by the car, Hugh and Lee inside grinning. Colin waved, felt a surge and broke into a run.
Matt followed more slowly, stopping once. Turning around. Wondering if Colin had seen Lilla standing in the trees. Standing and smiling, her lips moving in silent singing. If he had, it didn't matter. Lilla was
his
friend now, and some day he'd be big enough to come back here on his own.
Some day he would ask her to teach him her songs.