I leaned into the screen, looking more closely, but the guy’s leg obscured his groin.

Feeling a little embarrassed at my own prurient interest, I sat back and tried to figure out who he was.

I knew he wasn’t from Dorf because his skin was very dark. Dorf had to be one of the least diverse places in the world. Only a few African Americans lived in town, and none looked like this guy. And I didn’t think any of them would go for a walk in their birthday suits, either.

Well, an unknown African American wandering around in the buff was sort of noteworthy, in the way any little thing is noteworthy when you live someplace where nothing happens.

I printed up the J.T.’s shots and brought them up to the kitchen to examine under good light. The stranger was very slender, but sinewy — I could see ropey muscles in his arms and legs. His posture was oddly stooped, as though he’d been trying to bend over and pick something up while he walked. He had a long neck with a pronounced Adam’s apple and was quite small, less than five feet tall, I thought. He had a tiny nose, a prominent mouth, and a weak chin. He seemed to be bald.

Who could he be? Dorf wasn’t on the tourist map. What through-traffic we got tended to be Wisconsinites traveling between Wausau and Eau Claire.

Maybe he was a hunter up here for turkey season. But no, a hunter wouldn’t streak in downtown Dorf. More likely a college kid on spring break making good on a dare from his buddies. That made sense.

But the more I looked at the photo, the weirder it seemed. The back of my neck started to feel prickly. After a few more seconds, I actually broke out in a nervous sweat.

I put the picture face-down on the counter and snapped my rubber band.

I didn’t understand my own reaction. Okay, he was a stranger, and he was naked, but he’d been walking right through the downtown, not skulking in alleys and peeking in windows. If he was a nut, the police had probably already picked him up.

I felt myself flush — maybe I was anxious just because an unknown black male had shown up in town. God, was I really that much of a racist?

Then again, he had walked right through the picture I was taking, and I hadn’t seen him. That was weird, right? Yep, downright spooky — it’d give anyone the creeps.

I decided to stick with that explanation. Better to be kooky than a bigot, right?