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the truck.
"I don't care if they give me a ticket," he said.
"Come on."
He scooped up my suitcase and helped me out
of the truck. Then we ran to the station. The lobby
seemed to have triple the number of people in it than
it had when I had first arrived. It was a rush hour. We
ran down the corridor to my platform and gate, but
when we arrived, my train was pulling out.
"Oh, no," I cried.
We stood there watching the train speed away. I
was stuck in Atlanta. Luke turned to me.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I should have watched the
time."
"It's my own fault." I took my suitcase from
him and looked toward the lounge with its hard
benches.
"Wait," he said taking my arm. I turned back. "I
can't let you sit here all night. I don't have much to
offer, just a mattress on a bed of hay, but . . ." "What?" I didn't absorb what he was saying
immediately. I was still stunned.
"Of course I'll sleep on another bed of hay. You
can't stay here," he pleaded.
What more can happen to me? I thought. I felt I
resembled a leaf at the mercy of the wind, tossed and
tamed this way and that, a lone leaf already carried so
far away from where it had blossomed and grown. Luke took my suitcase back and then grasped
my hand in his. I said nothing. I let him lead me away
and back into the night.
twenty SOMEONE TO WATCH OVER ME
