AN EXTENDED HOME
I recall a summer Sunday evening some years back. Jan and I had only one son at the time, and she and our son were visiting her parents in Amarillo. I was home alone. The sky was dark with a threatening storm, and a tornado watch had just been declared. I had just begun preparing myself mentally for whatever lay ahead — and the doorbell rang. I went to the door and opened it. There, standing before me, was a boy. He looked to be about fourteen or fifteen, but he told me he was eighteen, and he was spending his summer selling books. “I don’t need any books,” I said, “but you need a place to get out of the storm.” He had some friends, he said. He was going to meet them somewhere — but it was obvious to me he didn’t know much about West Texas storms. As I conversed with him, I discovered that he was the…
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