D. recalled nothing of the thirty-minute drive back to Hanson. One second he was crossing the one lane bridge, and the next he was pulling into the parking lot behind the Dining Club. His eyes had apparently been on the road, but his mind was on Lizzie and how to explain it all to Karlie. He knew there was a young girl across that bridge who desperately needed medical attention, but he had no way of proving that to his skeptical wife. He had promised to tell her all about it when he got back, but what would he say? He felt like the little boy in a joke he had heard. When the boy’s mother asked him what he had learned in Sunday school, he said they had talked about Moses and how when he got to the Red Sea he had his army build a pontoon bridge and carry all the people across the water. Then he had his army blow up the bridge so the bad guys couldn’t cross. His mother said, “Are you sure that’s what they taught you this morning?” And the little boy said, “No, but if I told you what really happened, you’d never believe it.”
