At dusk, the slim gross teen boy takes a jacket from his nephew. The jacket is patched together with varied denim, stapled strips of even older jackets. There are like eighty or ninety jackets in the mix. Blueberry wood spikes in the breast pocket, a photo of a mousy dog in the inside pocket along with a piece of hickory gum. Now alone, our teen with his jacket spies an abandoned canoe in the parking lot and paints himself like a hyssop flower.
