The first person to spot him was the boy Diederik, who was standing outside the Rev’s cottage. Diederik came running to Joe’s aid, seeming delighted to have something to do.

“You need help, yes?” the boy said.

“Yes,” Joe said. “I definitely need help.”

He found it was very easy to put his arm around the boy’s offered shoulder. The boy was almost as tall as Joe now.

“How are you feeling?” he asked Diederik, only realizing it was odd that he was the one asking the question as the words left his mouth.

“Very strange,” the boy said. “I feel like there are two people in me.”

Joe didn’t understand, but he didn’t have to, to see the boy’s distress. He said, “I know you miss your father.”

“He hoped to be back by now,” Diederik said, trying to sound matter-of-fact, but failing. “I don’t think he will be back in time.” They were making progress on the sidewalk, and they crossed the road to the shop, Joe gasping with the effort. Diederik was feeling Joe’s weight after a few steps.

“The Rev’s trying hard to take good care of you,” Joe said.

“I miss my father and my mother,” Diederik said breathlessly. “But my father told me to be brave and he would return.”

Joe had no reply to that.

Chuy was reading a magazine at his workstation when Joe and Diederik made their awkward entrance, and his eyes widened as he looked from one to another.

“Mr. Joe saw a snake,” Diederik said simply. “And he fell down.”

“Pretty much in a nutshell,” Joe said, trying to smile.

“Let me see,” Chuy said, kneeling at Joe’s feet. Joe, feeling a little ridiculous—but also ridiculously glad to see Chuy—held out the injured limb. Chuy got the running shoe off quickly and as gently as possible, but the pulling and tugging made Joe gasp. The ankle was already discolored and swollen.

Chuy said, “I’ll run upstairs to get an ice pack.” His glance went over to Diederik. “And some clothes for the boy. For tomorrow.” He hurried out the front door to go up the outside stairs. Not for the first time, Joe reflected how nice it would be if their stairs were inside the building, like the ones in the pawnshop. He distracted himself by imagining the project. Maybe this winter . . . ?

Diederik moved restlessly, and Joe realized it was past time to get his weight off the boy. “Help me over to the chair,” Joe said. “We’ll both feel better.”

Diederik helped Joe into one of the manicure chairs. Joe didn’t want to collapse onto one of the antiques in his sweaty condition. And the plastic chair rolled, a huge plus. Following Joe’s directions, the boy wheeled the other manicure chair over to prop Joe’s foot on. Then Diederik regarded Joe with a fascinated gaze until Chuy returned, his arms full.