So after dinner I asked Etta if I could go outside and she said did I have homework and I said Spelling and bring leaves for art class, and she said Okay as long as you come in by dark. So I went and got my blue sweater with the zebras and I got the bag and I went out and went to the clearing. But the man wasn’t there and I sat on the rock for a while and then I thought I better get some leaves. 

 

So I went back to the garden and found some leaves from Mama’s little tree that she told me later was Ginkgo, and some leaves from the Maple and the Oak. So then I went back to the clearing he still wasn’t there and I thought Well, I guess he just made up that he was coming and he didn’t want pants so bad after all. And I thought maybe Ruth was right cause I told her about the man and she said I was making it up because people don’t disappear in real life only on TV. 

 

Or maybe it was a dream like when Buster died and I dreamed he was okay and he was in his cage but I woke up and no Buster and Mama said Dreams are different than real life but important too. And it was getting cold and I thought maybe I should just leave the bag and if the man came he could have his pants. So I was walking back up the path and there was this noise and somebody said Ouch. Dang, that hurt. And then I was scared.

　

HENRY: I kind of slam into the rock when I appear and scrape my knees. I am in the clearing and the sun is setting beautifully in a spectacular J. M. W. Turner blowout orange and red over the trees. The clearing is empty except for a shopping bag full of clothes and I rapidly deduce that Clare has left these and this is probably a day shortly after our first meeting. Clare is nowhere in sight and I call her name softly. No response. I dig through the bag of clothes. There’s the pair of chinos and the beautiful pair of brown wool trousers, a hideous tie with trout all over it, the Harvard sweater, the oxford-cloth white shirt with ring around the collar and sweat stains under the arms, and the exquisite silk bathrobe with Philip’s monogram and a big tear over the pocket. All these clothes are old friends, except for the tie, and I’m happy to see them. I don the chinos and the sweater and bless Clare’s apparently hereditary good taste and sense. I feel great; except for the lack of shoes I’m well equipped for my current location in spacetime.