“He fell trying to help our friend get up,” Barney told him.

The orderly frowned, then waved for Logan’s dad to follow him. “Let’s clean that out and stitch you up.”

The rest of them stood there until the orderly and Harp disappeared inside, and the door closed again.

Turning to Barney, Logan said, “You want to tell me what that was all about?”

“Harp should tell you,” Barney said.

“But he’s not here.”

“I’m sure he won’t be long.”

Before Logan could ask anything else, Barney and the others headed to the front corner of the waiting room and sat down. Instead of joining them, Logan took a seat right next to the examining area door, and waited.

Growing up, he had always been close with his dad. Working at Dunn Right, camping on the beach, watching football all day on Sundays, these they did together right up until Logan left home. It was Logan who actually caused them to drift apart. As he became more and more involved in his new life, he lost touch with his old one. His relationship with his parents became a monthly call at best, and then, after his mother died, that call became holidays only.

When he moved back home, he expected Harp to be less than excited to see him. But that wasn’t the case at all. His father treated him like he’d never been gone. It was exactly what Logan needed, and it had made him feel all the more ashamed. All those wasted years when he had forgotten what a good man his father was. Better than himself, for sure. He knew he could never—would never—let something like that happen again.

That’s why his father’s actions that morning were so confusing. What were his dad and his WAMO buddies up to? It just didn’t make sense.

It was about twenty minutes before the doors opened again, and Harp reappeared. A nice square portion of his head had been shaved, and in place of the missing hair was a new bandage. He took a couple of steps out, stopped to adjust his shirt, then started up again, walking right past Logan without noticing him.