Stranger

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“Where did you find him?”

“Down in Lime Bay, right at the water’s edge. He’d made it across in one of those fiberglass canoes.”

“All that way?”

“He’s a lucky man. There’s a good westerly blowing today. He said it carried him across in less than three hours.”

“How is he?”

“Tired. Got a little burned by the sun, but-”

“No, has he spoken?”

“Don’t worry, he’s a blue-eyed boy. He’s one of us.”

“Are you sure?”

“Right down to the accent. He says he used to attend school in Lewis before the shit piled into the fan.”

“Your people are looking after him?”

“They’re feeding him coffee and sandwiches. He looks as healthy as a horse to me.”

I’d tagged along with the crowds who were eager to see what that big, dirty old lake had washed up on our shores. The old boys and girls tried to look as if they were in control and taking this in their stride. But you could tell different. You see, a stranger was in town. A stranger was big news. They were excited. They wanted to feast their eyes on a fresh face.

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