THE BRIGHT CITY SHIMMERED on the horizon, touched by sparkling blues and greens and golds that blended with the sky and sunlight, pulsing in and out of my vision.

Led by Malaiki, who was still skipping and singing, we moved on up the road. I watched Shad. In management, I dealt with my share of eccentric people, including abrasive ones. What was it about this codger that so unnerved me?

“Don’t be fooled by him,” a voice whispered. I turned and saw no one. What the old man called the City of Light must have been an illusion. Maybe even a trap. If real at all, it would likely prove to be a lair of self-righteous condemners trying to impose their misery on others.

I’d come far enough on the red road now to know it was leading to something I wanted no part of. I’d been wrong about that shimmering slippery city in the distance—I refused to be drawn there any longer. If that place was this group’s idea of home, I could live without it. The quicker I ditched this crew and struck out to find Joshua or find another way, the better.

The sun persuaded me to take off my jacket, which I tied around my waist. At that moment, as I trailed the rest of the group, I saw strange movements in the three-foot-tall grass on the south side of the road. I froze. The bent grass came nearer and nearer, not in a straight path, but serpentine. Something was coming my way.

Suddenly it stopped, only feet from the road. Peering intently into the grass, I saw two brown eyes staring at me. I stepped backward. It lunged at me.

It was a snow-white puppy with dime-sized black spots, shoulders no more than six inches off the ground. With a disproportionately large head, the pup had the shape and floppy ears and fur length of a Springer spaniel but the markings of a Dalmatian. His nose looked like a little black wall socket. He frolicked over to me, wriggling back and forth, a furry sausage with legs. I picked him up. He couldn’t have weighed more than eight pounds. I looked into his chocolate eyes, and he stuck out his nose to mine. He licked me frantically. As he pressed his neck against mine, I smelled something sweet, like the faint scent of maple syrup.

“What a guy!” I told him. He took the compliment well. “Where’d you come from? There’s no one else on the road. You’re too little to fend for yourself, aren’t you?”

I put him down, and he rolled over on his back, sticking up his legs and kicking. I scratched his spotted tummy until I found the spot that moved his back paws up and down involuntarily, uncontrollably. He groaned in ecstasy. As soon as I stopped scratching, he batted my hand, insisting on more. I complied.