Life had been so confusing and eventful since he first woke up on the river bank, it took him a moment to figure out that it was still mid-afternoon of that same day. When they reached Mrs. Randall’s apartment, she had already assembled two plastic totes and a fireproof box. “If you could carry these items up to your apartment, plus my grandmother’s writing desk, I’d be very grateful. None of the rest of the furniture is sentimental, so your time would probably be better spent helping people who live closer to the creek than hauling all this worn-out stuff upstairs. But there are also some things you could move for me in the kitchen.”They followed her toward the back of the apartment. “Have either of you ever used an oil lamp?” she asked, pointing to an old-fashioned glass and metal contraption on her kitchen table.“Not that I’m aware of,” said David with a little smile.“Me neither,” said Lauren, smiling back at him.“Then we’re better off sticking with flashlights.”Mrs.
