He finds that he has left town long behind and the rain has stopped yet he cannot remember the drive to this point. The clouds break and a pregnant moon hovers through, silvering the washed land. Presently he runs out of petrol. He’s been so much in his own head that he hadn’t even looked at the gauge. He starts pushing the scooter and grows tired. He sees a couple palm trees off the road ahead and pushes the scooter around the back of them. Somewhere close a dog starts yapping. He puts the scooter on the stand and lays down the oilcloth and falls on it. Tired not just in the body but also in a deepbruised deepinside way. Soul tired. The burn on his arm bites at him like a snake. After a time he pulls the envelopes from his satchel. The darker one is from the sewing room, the other is from Vance and has a rubber band around it and is bulked with the brickettes inside. To hold it gives a feeling like an electric current through his belly. He puts it down. His hands turn back the flap of the other one.