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He was patient with me and after a few days I wasable to act normal. However, I started to make enquiries and eventually I found where thewoman who had said she was Harry had been locked up. It was a nearbypsychiatric hospital. When I went there to ask about her, it turned outshe had been released into the community and there was no forwardingaddress. I knew where Harry's father lived and called round to see him. Iexplained that I was Jim's sister and Jim had been a friend of Harrybut had left for Europe and wanted me to call in on Harry. He was verycold at first, but finally he admitted, "I'm sorry, Harry hasdisappeared more than a year ago." I gave him my sympathy and my bestsales manner and after a few minutes he invited me in. Mr. Wolchuk hadbeen devastated by his son's disappearance. As we talked over coffee hebecame more open and complained that there was a delusional woman whoclaimed to be Harry. I even got the woman's address from him, as arestraining order had been placed on. I haven't described myself, or my adulterous whore of a wife, or our situation. Denise is cute, around five-five and one-twenty-five: brown hair, brown eyes. Me? I'm right at six-one and two-twenty. My brown hair is thinning quite a bit now; well, Whaddya gonna do. Oh, and I bench 315 for reps.We both work, I'm an electrician, Gemini Electric Inc.; she's a beautician, Curls R Us. I graduated college with a B.A. in English of all things, and promptly went to work as an electrician's apprentice: union scale paid better than teaching elementary school. Denise got her certificate from beauty school and was kind of an expert at coloring hair—mostly of old ladies, so she says. She does pretty good at it moneywise too.I took my car to the Starlight; the twins followed in theirs. I knew the old hostel only too well. Denise and I had used it for the odd weekend more than once since that first time years before. It held a kind of nostalgic sentimentality for me, and I'd thought for her as.
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