the truck.
 
 "I don't care if they give me a ticket," he said.
 
 "Come on."
 
 He scooped up my suitcase and helped me out
 
 of the truck. Then we ran to the station. The lobby
 
 seemed to have triple the number of people in it than
 
 it had when I had first arrived. It was a rush hour. We
 
 ran down the corridor to my platform and gate, but
 
 when we arrived, my train was pulling out.
 
 "Oh, no," I cried.
 
 We stood there watching the train speed away. I
 
 was stuck in Atlanta. Luke turned to me.
 
 "I'm sorry," he said. "I should have watched the
 
 time."
 
 "It's my own fault." I took my suitcase from
 
 him and looked toward the lounge with its hard
 
 benches.
 
 "Wait," he said taking my arm. I turned back. "I
 
 can't let you sit here all night. I don't have much to
 
 offer, just a mattress on a bed of hay, but . . ." "What?" I didn't absorb what he was saying
 
 immediately. I was still stunned.
 
 "Of course I'll sleep on another bed of hay. You
 
 can't stay here," he pleaded.
 
 What more can happen to me? I thought. I felt I
 
 resembled a leaf at the mercy of the wind, tossed and
 
 tamed this way and that, a lone leaf already carried so
 
 far away from where it had blossomed and grown. Luke took my suitcase back and then grasped
 
 my hand in his. I said nothing. I let him lead me away
 
 and back into the night.
 
 twenty SOMEONE TO WATCH OVER ME