Thousand: Four Hundred Twenty-Five

smells the warmth of the room. A wood stove’s shifting glow faces him as the man seats Bernie on the bed. Soon a kerosene lamp adds a brighter and friendly light to quilt-covered bed, a small dresser, wood floor with throw rugs. Dazed, Bernie listens to the soft splash of water in the next room. The man bustles back and slips Bernie’s shoes from his feet, his torn jacket from his back, and is busily unbuttoning his white shirt when Bernie says, “I. I think I can do that.” But the man brushes away Bernie’s hands. The man raises him