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"The bathroom's in there," he said nodding at a narrow door on the right,

"I'm fine," I said.

He grunted.

Where did he sleep? I wondered and then thought the sofa might be a pull out.

"There's the phone," he said nodding.

At first I didn't see it. Then my eyes nearly popped. Under the table was a toy phone!

"That's not a real phone," I said softly.

He looked at me and then at the phone.

"Sure it is. My boy calls me once a week on that phone," he told me. "Go on, use it."

I stood there, not knowing what to do. He went to the makeshift kitchen and began to unload his sack. Producing potato chip bags with a few chips left, cans, some old rusted tools, a cracked glass and empty beer bottles, I realized he had obviously been foraging in garbage cans and dumpsters. He treated everything as if it were gold. Finally, he put the old revolver on the table and looked at me again.

"Did you call?"

"Yes sir," I said.

"Good. I can make you some tea. Didn't get any coffee today," he said.

"That's all right. Thank you;' I said inching back toward the door.

"I got a television," he said and reached behind the sofa to produce an old, small black and white set. He put it on the table and turned it on. He played with the knobs until he was able to get a picture and sound. "You can sit on the sofa and wait and watch television, if you want:' he said.

"Thank you, but I said I'd wait outside."

"It's gettin' cold out there."

"It really isn't that cold:' I said backing toward the door. "Spring's here."

"Yeah, and the cherry blossoms," he said smiling. "My son should be calling soon," he added suddenly and sat on the sofa staring ahead.

"Where is your son?"

"Oh, he's up north in Rochester, New York:' he said. "He's a manager in a restaurant."

"That's nice. What do you do?" I asked.

"Me? I'm retired. I used to be maintenance man here. Now, 1'm...retired. I'd go out and wait with you," he said, "but I got to wait for my son to call. You stay right nearby and come back if them hooligans bother you, okay, Missy?"

"Thank you." I opened the door. "Oh, I'm sorry," I said. "What's your name?"

"I'm Norris Patton," he said. "I was a light heavyweight champ when I was in the service." He showed me his closed fist. "They used to call me Sledgehammer." He laughed and I saw he was missing quite a few teeth in the rear of his mouth.

"Thank you for helping me, Mr. Patton," I said.

"You're quite welcome," he said and then his face burst into a smile of great joy. "That's him," he said and reached under the table for the toy phone.

I watched him for a moment and then stepped out in the street. Would that be my fate? I wondered. Without a real family, would I just imagine one, too?

I had a general idea of which way to go, but I was a lot more timid about walking now that it was really dark. As I approached the corner, however, I saw a familiar vehicle turn down the street, moving very slowly. A street light illuminated the side panel on the passengers' door. It read, Sum's GARAGE. Roy was at the wheel. The moment he saw me, he sped up and pulled the truck to the curb. He jumped out and came around the front quickly.

"Rain, thank God I found you. Why the hell did you go and run off for? Mama's in such a panic she had to lie down. What are you doing here?" he asked looking around. "This is a crappy neighborhood. Huh?" He stared at me. He was about as angry at me as he had ever been.