“There is no such thing as a private moment,” Shad whispered. “The whole cosmos is our audience for everything we do in the dark.”

I turned away and ran, hearing the sound of clanging metal in my pocket, too frightened to reach in and discover what it was.

I ran and ran, not knowing what direction I was going, my eyes blinded by tears and wind, trying to outrun my shame.

I lay where I collapsed, outside the slice of city, far from the buildings, in a heap of bristly plants beside the brackish water of a scum-covered pond.

I fought my erupting emotions, trying to reel them in with logic.

Hunger couldn’t exist without food, could it? Or thirst without water? Perhaps the arid vacancy of my soul was an indication there must be something wet and refreshing, a deep-sourced fountain that could fill me up over and over, something for which my thirst was made.

My guilt feelings were doing me no good—they only increased my pain. If Dad had been there for me, if Marci had been different, if she’d understood … No, it wasn’t my fault, it couldn’t be. I’d tried my best.

What I’d experienced on the gray roads had only left me thirstier and sicker, as if I’d drunk salt water when I craved and needed fresh.

I wasn’t very good at examining the state of my soul. I hadn’t had much practice.

As I lay on the ground, I looked up to a plum tree, where a large gray owl perched on a low branch and studied me. He swiveled his head back and forth, without blinking, as if scanning me curiously. His implied question seemed the same as mine—who was I, anyway?

The owl suddenly looked behind me, and I turned to see Joshua walking toward me. Joshua’s eyes looked off to my right, and I followed them to see Shad also headed my way, stopping to cough and spit to clear out his old lungs. I got on my feet, trying not to appear as weak as I felt.

“If there’s nowhere else to go,” I said to Joshua, “I’ll return to the red road.”

“There are other places,” Joshua said, his voice full of optimism. “Lots of them. Don’t give up yet.”

“I don’t want to walk in these parts anymore. Let’s go back to the red road.”

“To the south, on the other side of the red road, are the roads of religion—they’ll take you where you want to go.”

“I’ll have to think about it. Meanwhile let’s head for the red road.”