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About
twenty
feet
out
from
the
base
of
the
tree
,
half
-
overgrown
with
long
meadow
-
grass
and
dead
creepers
,
he
found
a
canvas
bag
.
Shadow
picked
it
up
,
untied
the
knots
at
the
top
of
the
bag
,
loosened
the
draw
-
string
.
The
clothes
he
pulled
out
were
his
own
.
They
were
old
,
but
still
serviceable
.
He
turned
the
shoes
over
in
his
hands
.
He
stroked
the
fabric
of
the
shirt
,
the
wool
of
the
sweater
,
stared
at
them
as
if
he
were
looking
at
them
across
a
million
years
.
For
some
time
he
looked
at
them
,
then
,
one
by
one
,
he
put
them
on
.
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He
put
his
hands
into
his
pockets
,
and
looked
puzzled
as
he
pulled
one
hand
out
holding
what
looked
to
Easter
like
a
white
and
gray
marble
.
He
said
,
"
No
coins
.
"
It
was
the
first
thing
he
had
said
in
several
hours
.
"
No
coins
?
"
echoed
Easter
.
He
shook
his
head
.
"
It
was
good
to
have
the
coins
,
"
he
said
.
"
They
gave
me
something
to
do
with
my
hands
.
"
He
bent
down
to
pull
on
his
shoes
.
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Once
he
was
dressed
,
he
looked
more
normal
.
Grave
,
though
.
She
wondered
how
far
he
had
traveled
,
and
what
it
had
cost
him
to
return
.
He
was
not
the
first
whose
return
she
had
initiated
,
and
she
knew
that
,
soon
enough
,
the
million
-
year
stare
would
fade
,
and
the
memories
and
the
dreams
that
he
had
brought
back
from
the
tree
would
be
elided
by
the
world
of
things
you
could
touch
.
That
was
the
way
it
always
went
.
She
led
their
way
to
the
rear
of
the
meadow
.
Her
mount
waited
in
the
trees
.