Rooster do that every morning? I mean crow before daylight?” Christine asked.“Like clockwork,” Jasmine returned. “Right, Baby?”“Yeah, I su...pose,” he returned as he escorted them back inside.When they were in the cave, Ashley whispered to Jasmine, “He seems awfully abrupt this morning. Is he mad at us, or is it just because it’s so early?”As soon as Jasmine opened her mouth to respond, she realized that she might very well know why her husband was so quiet this morning. “Oh, crap,” she absently. * * *They were sitting in a little park dedicated to the memory of a long deadHope Crossing resident. Edgar Terwilliger Birdwell wasn't rememberednowadays as a poet, not even by Hope Crossing residents, but as theoccupant of a half-acre plot of landscaped greenery that formed an islandwhere Front Street branched off into two streets leading out of thecenter of town.There Marcia told Walt the same abbreviated version of the story thatshe'd told Grace.Walt listened patiently, without. More

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