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           WhileJudCrandallwassittingintheladderbackedrockerandwatchingforhimoutofhisbaywindow,LouiswaseatingabigtastelessdinnerintheHowardJohnson’sdiningroom.

           Thefoodwasplentifulanddullexactlywhathisbodyseemedtowant.Outsideithadgrowndark.Theheadlightsofthepassingcarsprobedlikefingers.Heshoveledthefoodin.Asteak.Abakedpotato.Asidedishofbeanswhichwereabrightgreennaturehadneverintended.Awedgeofapplepiewithascoopoficecreamontopofitmeltingintoasoftdrool.Heateatacornertable,watchingpeoplecomeandgo,wonderingifhemightnotseesomeoneheknew.Inavagueway,heratherhopedthatwouldhappen.Itwouldleadtoquestionswhere’sRachel,whatareyoudoinghere,how’sitgoing?andperhapsthequestionswouldleadtocomplications,andmaybecomplicationswerewhathereallywanted.Awayout.

           Andasamatteroffact,acouplethathedidknowcameinjustashewasfinishinghisapplepieandhissecondcupofcoffee.RobGrinnell,aBangordoctor,andhisprettywifeBarbara.Hewaitedforthemtoseehim,sittinghereinthecornerathistableforone,butthehostessledthemtotheboothsonthefarsideoftheroom,andLouislostsightofthementirelyexceptforanoccasionalglimpseofGrinnell’sprematurelygrayinghair.

           ThewaitressbroughtLouishischeck.Hesignedforit,jottinghisroomnumberunderhissignature,andleftbythesidedoor.

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