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Feeling
very
lonely
indeed
now
--
ridiculously
close
to
tears
--
Louis
waved
again
.
He
was
still
feeling
blue
that
evening
when
he
recrossed
Route
15
after
a
couple
of
beers
with
Jud
and
Norma
--
Norma
had
drunk
a
glass
of
wine
,
something
she
was
allowed
,
even
encouraged
to
have
,
by
Dr.
Weybridge
.
They
had
moved
into
the
kitchen
tonight
in
deference
to
the
season
.
Jud
had
stoked
up
the
small
Marek
stove
,
and
they
had
sat
around
it
,
the
beer
cold
,
the
heat
good
,
and
Jud
had
talked
about
how
the
Micmac
Indians
had
staved
off
a
British
landing
at
Machias
two
hundred
years
ago
.
In
those
days
the
Micmacs
had
been
pretty
fearsome
,
he
said
,
and
then
added
that
he
guessed
there
were
a
few
state
and
federal
land
lawyers
who
thought
they
still
were
.
It
should
have
been
a
fine
evening
,
but
Louis
was
aware
of
the
empty
house
waiting
for
him
Crossing
the
lawn
and
feeling
the
frost
crunching
under
his
shoes
,
he
heard
the
telephone
begin
to
ring
in
the
house
.
He
broke
into
a
run
,
got
through
the
front
door
,
sprinted
through
the
living
room
(
knocking
over
a
magazine
stand
)
,
and
then
slid
most
of
the
way
across
the
kitchen
,
his
frosty
shoes
skidding
over
the
linoleum
.
He
snared
the
phone
.
"
Hello
?
"
"
Louis
?
"
Rachel
's
voice
,
a
little
distant
but
absolutely
fine
.
"
We
're
here
.
We
made
it
.
No
problems
.
"
"
Great
!
"
he
said
and
sat
down
to
talk
to
her
,
thinking
:
I
wish
to
God
you
were
here
.
The
Thanksgiving
dinner
Jud
and
Norma
put
on
was
a
fine
one
.
When
it
was
over
,
Louis
went
home
feeling
full
and
sleepy
.
He
went
upstairs
to
the
bedroom
,
relishing
the
quiet
a
little
,
flipped
off
his
loafers
,
and
lay
down
.
It
was
just
after
three
o'clock
;
the
day
outside
was
lit
with
thin
,
wintry
sunshine
.
I
'll
just
doze
a
little
,
he
thought
and
fell
asleep
.
