ABSTRACT
Lyle and Mary stand on opposite street corners, lifting hand-lettered signs toward the averted, vacant, or rejecting eyes of most of the passing drivers. “Out of work. Stranded. Anything Helps. God Bless You.” From mid-morning until sunset, they hope to gather enough for a meal before they return to the abandoned Ford station wagon in the vacant lot half mile away for a night’s rest. Lyle sleeps in the back seat; his night terrors overwhelm him if he sleeps in the front seat.
