One of his hands is closed, forming a fist. Then, however, he slowly opens the fingers, one by one, and for a moment something bright glitters between...them – a shining piece of metal, a precious piece of jewelry, that he is holding in his hand. He remains silent a few more moments, and then his voice tears through humming of the wind, through the dripping of the rain. He says only a single word, a name, but he shouts it out loudly, so it echoes over the waters of Lake Leskow: ‘Laura!’ *** Laura. " Oh, that's right. Faulkner lives in Oxford, Mississippi." She looked up at me. "Oxford is that close to Memphis?" Yes'm. Mah home town. Memphis, Tenn-e-ssee."She grinned at me. "So didja know Elvis Presley."I laughed.The handful of kids from the drama club arrived just after ten o'clock. They raved about the short off-Broadway play they had seen. Martha had taken me to see the same play a few weeks earlier, so I did find that I could contribute to the conversation. But I found myself treading. More

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