September was gone in Alton. One morning it was just October. The bluffs were

streaked with red and gold as if fall had come overnight. It was still warm in the

afternoon, but the evening began to whisper about sweaters.

It was Indian summer when you saw the purple and red-grain ears of corn and baskets at the grocery

store and the dead leaves began to scratch along the sidewalks.

In the chill of the evening the man walked his dog along the

sidewalks. In the chill of the evening the man walked his dog along the silent street, just a half block from the Mississippi River.

The dog and his man came down the hill traveling along a broken sidewalk next to a parking lot that was illuminated by lighted haze from sodium lights.

The dog snuffled along, catching a hint of some forgotten animal on the pavement or a dropped piece of food that had not been washed away by the rain.

But then the dog stopped.

His attention on another man walking nearby.

It was not his owner, this other man, the dog believed, was a threat. The man that belonged to the dog

turned to look and he saw the other man who was wearing dirty clothing that had

rips and tears. His hair was long entangled, his beard matted and unkempt. On this cool night, the other man wore no shoes.

The dog began to growl and then he began to bark. The other man did not belong there. The dog wanted to chase him away.

He strained at his leash while the man held him back.

Then the dog felt the calm of his man as he took hold of the dog's collar.

He whispered soothing words, but the dog's terror did not subside.

The man looked up, unsure of whether to apologize to the other man, the barefoot man in the

tattered clothing or chase him away.

But when he looked up, the other man was gone. He'd not fled or walked away

he'd simply vanished. The ragged man had disappeared. Shaken, the man and the dog returned

...