Obi-Wan peered out his window. A dark speck against the pale sand grew larger as it approached the hut. Obi-Wan hurried to wash and dress. He finished just as the landspeeder arrived, glinting in the midafternoon suns. A man and a small boy disembarked.

"Mister Lars, Master Luke," Obi-Wan greeted them with a bow.

"Mister Kenobi!" Luke ran to him while Owen hung back. "Look at my speeder! It's new, and I can fly it!"

"Can you?" Obi-Wan said with a grin, picking up on Luke's enthusiasm. "I'll wager you're quite a pilot."

"I am! Watch!" Luke turned and ran to his uncle. "Can I show him, Uncle Owen?"

Owen hesitated, then nodded. "But go slowly, and don't stray too far."

"I won't!" Luke hopped into the speeder and was off.

At length, Owen approached Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan realized he was holding a small and somewhat bulky package in one hand, which he proffered.

"Sweet cake," said Owen, "from my wife."

Obi-Wan accepted it with a nod. The two men grew silent again, watching Luke fly.

"He insisted on seeing you," said Owen at last. "Kept going on about how you were a good wizard." He snorted softly. "I'm afraid he's been telling his friends about your escapades. Cassia Westerse wants you to take a look at her bad ankle."

Obi-Wan felt the tugging again, as though the Force were urging him to make a connection.

So much for alienating the natives, he said silently. Is that it?

"If I'm to keep up the charade of a crazy old hermit-wizard, perhaps she'd better come visit me," he said aloud.

Owen looked at him with something resembling approval.

"Maybe," he replied. "I'll tell her, next time I see her." He glanced at Luke again. "I may not always be able to keep him away from you." When Obi-Wan was silent, he continued. "But if I hear so much as one word of Jedi out of him or you, you will hear it from me, Kenobi."

Obi-Wan acknowledged the outburst with a nod. Owen had cooled down, but there was still to be no training for Luke.

"He flies well," remarked Obi-Wan. "He has an instinct for it."

"He does," Owen replied. "I wish he had such an instinct for farming."

Obi-Wan dearly wished to use the opportunity to point out that Luke was more Jedi than farmer, but was prevented by Luke circling near the two of them. As he passed, he raised one tiny hand in a wave.

"Use both hands!" Obi-Wan and Owen called out simultaneously. Luke snapped his hand back to the steering controls. The two men eyed each other, sharing the smallest of smiles.

"See here, Kenobi," Owen said suddenly, "I don't have the money to pay you for taking care of my wife. But—" he paused, seeming to struggle with himself, "—but, look, we're closer than Anchorhead. If you ever need food, or supplies, or repairs in a hurry, you come to our place first."

Obi-Wan was astonished. This was not forgiveness, or an apology, or even gratitude—but it was hospitality, and with it, tacit permission to see Luke, which was more than he had ever expected from Owen Lars.

"Thank you," he said gravely, and bowed. "You are very kind, Mister Lars."

"Yes. Well." Owen looked at his feet, half-buried in sand, and said no more.

So much for banishment, thought Obi-Wan. So am I to protect Luke, after all?

You will, while you can.

And will I be given opportunity to train him? Will he defeat Darth Vader and the Emperor? he asked.

Do you need to know that?

I—  the thought remained unfinished. He had no answer to the question.

His destiny lies along a different path from yours, said the Force.

That is no answer, either,  thought Obi-Wan. but I will seek no more. He sighed. Every time I rage against the Force, or try to understand its motives or predict more of the future than it is willing to reveal, I stumble and fall. When I give in and rage no more, all is well. Not as I would have it, perhaps, but well still.

Well done, said the Force. You will be a Jedi yet.

Obi-Wan did not get a chance to reply, because Luke was coming in from his third circuit of the hut, a brilliant smile on his tanned face.

"Did you see me, Mister Kenobi?" he asked eagerly.

"I did indeed. You are a fine pilot, young Luke."

Luke beamed. "Uncle Owen taught me. He knows how to do everything."

Owen looked pleased and a little embarrassed. "Sure, Luke. Like I know it's time to get back home before we're late for dinner. Say goodbye to Mister Kenobi."

"Goodbye!" said Luke cheerfully. "See you!"

"See you." The words caught a little in Obi-Wan's throat, and he raised his hand in farewell.

~*~

Luke pondered the wizard while he scooted over to the passenger seat and waited for Uncle Owen. There was something different about him. He didn't have the far-away look on his face anymore. He looked, in fact, like he had finally heard what he was listening for.

Uncle Owen arrived at the speeder and climbed in. The wizard turned and walked to his hut.

Then the wizard went inside and the speeder took off, leaving only two diverging sets of footprints to show they had been there; when the wind picked up and tossed the footprints away, there were no signs that they had ever met at all.