The room was actually quite neat. It was small and square, with dark, wood-paneled walls hung with cycling posters. The bed was covered with a patchwork quilt of red and blue.

“It’s fine,” I said. “It’s perfect. I appreciate your kindness.”

“We need to make sure you are drinking much water.”

“They put me on an IV at the hospital.”

“Good. This medicine will make you very sleepy. You will feel better after you sleep. I would offer you something to eat, but I do not think it will be so good for you now.”

“No. I don’t think I’d keep it down.”

“When you wake up, you can eat. If you need something just call for me. I will bring your pack inside the house.”

“Thank you.”

After he left me alone, I examined the room more closely. There were three posters on the wall, one with a row of cyclists in blue jerseys, with the title Lance Armstrong Tour de France/2005; the second was a picture of cyclists in an array of bright jerseys on a road winding through the Swiss Alps. The third poster was of a beautiful young woman looking through the spokes of a bicycle.

On the dresser was an impressive collection of cycling trophies, one of them nearly three feet high. Next to the bed was a standing mirror in a gold frame and a nightstand with a porcelain lamp with a bright blue shade.

I shut the door, then turned off the light and walked over to the bed. I took off my shoes and lay back on the white, clean sheets. I don’t remember much after that.

Chapter Thirteen

C H A P T E R

Thirteen

Whether cautionary or exemplary,

there has not yet been a life lived

that we cannot learn from. It is up

to us to decide which ours will be.

Alan Christoffersen’s diary

I didn’t know where I was when I woke. I had had crazy, lucid dreams, no doubt aided by the medication I had taken, but my reality was pretty crazy as well—I was in a city I’d never before heard of whose claim to fame was a Corn Palace, sleeping in the guest room of an elderly, Jewish Polish man I didn’t know. That was probably about as unlikely as anything I had dreamt.

I looked around the room. The window shades were dimly lit, as if the sun were barely rising. Considering what time I’d gone to bed, I hadn’t slept much. I sat up slowly. There was still some dizziness, but nothing compared to what it had been. At least I could walk if I had to.