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"
There
!
"
"
Twenty
-
nine
!
"
"
There
!
"
"
Thirty
!
"
"
There
!
"
"
Thirty
-
one
!
"
The
lever
plunged
.
The
tin
caps
,
crushed
atop
the
filled
bottles
,
flickered
bright
yellow
.
Grandfather
handed
the
last
bottle
to
Douglas
.
"
Second
harvest
of
the
summer
.
June
’
s
on
the
shelf
.
Here
’
s
July
.
Now
,
just
-
August
up
ahead
.
"
Douglas
raised
the
bottle
of
warm
dandelion
wine
but
did
not
set
it
on
the
shelf
.
He
saw
the
other
numbered
bottles
waiting
there
,
one
like
another
,
in
no
way
different
,
all
bright
,
all
regular
,
all
self
-
contained
.
There
’
s
the
day
I
found
I
was
alive
,
he
thought
,
and
why
isn
’
t
it
brighter
than
the
others
?
