Summer turned to autumn. New children came. New relationships formed. My work went on. Then, in October, luck caught up with me. Through a series of flukes, I found out that Mr. Renstad was back in Marysville at the state hospital detox center. I attempted to talk to him by telephone, but was unsuccessful. So, when we had the long Columbus Day weekend, I drove over. It was a warm, bright fall afternoon when I arrived at the unit. The poplars and the birches had all turned to brilliant shades of yellow and gold, highlighted by long shafts of autumn sunshine. Mr. Renstad didn’t seem all that surprised to see me, nor all that happy, although he went willingly enough with me to the visitors’ area. “Why don’t you just leave us alone?” he said, when I asked about Sheila. “You don’t do her any good.” “How do you mean?” I asked. “You stir things up. She was doing okay before you came in. She was settled down nice and we weren’t having no problems.” I regarded him. “It’s you that’s caused everything.
