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"
What
about
Chuck
Howland
?
"
I
asked
.
"
Is
he
going
to
get
in
trouble
?
"
"
No
,
because
he
's
in
the
TV
room
,
watching
Good
Morning
America
with
about
two
dozen
other
folks
.
And
I
'm
going
to
make
myself
scarce
as
soon
as
the
smoke
detector
turns
on
the
west-wing
fire
alarm
.
"
"
Do
n't
you
fall
down
and
hurt
yourself
,
woman
.
I
'd
never
forgive
myself
if
--
"
"
Oh
,
stop
your
fussing
,
"
she
said
,
and
this
time
she
kissed
me
.
Love
among
the
ruins
.
It
probably
sounds
funny
to
some
of
you
and
grotesque
to
the
rest
of
you
,
but
I
'll
tell
you
something
,
my
friend
:
weird
love
's
better
than
no
love
at
all
.
I
watched
her
walk
away
,
moving
slowly
and
stiffly
(
but
she
will
only
use
a
cane
on
wet
days
,
and
only
then
if
the
pain
is
terrible
;
it
's
one
of
her
vanities
)
,
and
waited
.
Five
minutes
went
by
,
then
ten
,
and
just
as
I
was
deciding
she
had
either
lost
her
courage
or
discovered
that
the
battery
of
the
smoke
detector
in
the
toilet
was
dead
,
the
fire
alarm
went
off
in
the
west
wing
with
a
loud
,
buzzing
burr
.
I
started
toward
the
kitchen
at
once
,
but
slowly
--
there
was
no
reason
to
hurry
until
I
was
sure
Dolan
was
out
of
my
way
.
A
gaggle
of
old
folks
,
most
still
in
their
robes
,
came
out
of
the
TV
room
(
here
it
's
called
the
Resource
Center
;
now
that
's
grotesque
)
to
see
what
was
going
on
.
Chuck
Howland
was
among
them
,
I
was
happy
to
see
.
"
Edgecombe
!
"
Kent
Avery
rasped
,
hanging
onto
his
walker
with
one
hand
and
yanking
obsessively
at
the
crotch
of
his
pajama
pants
with
the
other
.
"
Real
alarm
or
just
another
falsie
?
What
do
you
think
?
"
"
No
way
of
knowing
,
I
guess
,
"
I
said
.
