Excerpt:  And I remember the time I fished Willis up out of the dumpster in the alley behind the Town Tavern by the bus station. It was bad. Somebody had beat him to pulp. His shoulder was dislocated, and his face looked like some horror film. I put him in the ambulance myself and met him at Mercy Hospital. When the one eye that could open opened, he said "Damn you, Buckaroo, damn you to hell." It sounded like his last breath.

I think there were three or four more incidents like this last fall, maybe two, three more arrests this month. I reckon Willis was cryin for help, and the only help any of us knowed to give him was to keep puttin him back on the street. As though freedom was the only thanks we could think to give him for what he’d done when we was kids.

Hit the "Web Site" button below to read the complete story.