October. Here in this dank, unfamiliar kitchen I study my father\'s embarrassed young man\'s face. Sheepish grin, he holds in one hand a string

Fear of seeing a police car pull into the drive. Fear of falling asleep at night. Fear of not falling asleep. Fear of the past rising up. Fear of

He said it doesn\'t look good he said it looks bad in fact real bad he said I counted thirty-two of them on one lung before I quit counting