Warren sat up as they entered. He swung his feet off the bed an onto the floor. He was wearing a white T-shirt and grey sweatpants and hospital socks.

Cheryl suddenly realized she hadn't thought about what to say. How are you? That's dumb, obviously not too well.

"OK if I sit down?" she asked.

Warren moved over so she could sit beside him.

"I wanted to be there for you when you got out," she said. "I should have...."

"Don't bother," Warren said. "You don't owe me anything. Better to get on with your life."

"Warren," Cheryl said, "you just had seven years of your life taken away. Taken by evil people. It's not too late..."

"To start over?" Warren replied. "Seven years ago I was forty-two, and I've got nothing to start over with."

Cheryl pulled out the necklace.

"You remembered this."

Warren looked at the turquoise and silver bird.

"Yeah. I wasn't a mentally and physically broken wreck back then."

"Am I the first person you've spoken to?" Cheryl asked.

"Yeah." His expression hadn't changed but...

I've gotten this far at least.

"Because of the bird?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"OK Warren, you're forty-nine years old and no one has any hold on you. You're not on parole, you can go where you please and do whatever you want. Suppose you could...."

She stopped. Was it too soon?

"Suppose you could have a life again, and help other people in your situation? You know there are a lot of them."

"Revenge would be fun," Warren replied. "If I had a zillion bucks I'd recruit a guerilla army to make it happen."

"It seems we're on the same page," Cheryl said. "The same chapter anyway. Want to get out of here?"

"What else an I gonna do with my time? Whatever it is... lead on."

---

It was another twenty-four hours give or take. Cheryl and Scott went to the local Wal-Mart and bought several pairs of Wrangler jeans and cotton shirts and the socks and underwear and other items needed for Warren to return to civilization. At the hospital he had another shower and shave and got dressed and the papers were signed. Cheryl got a Hertz one-way to take Warren and Scott followed in Scotty. Warren slept most of the way back.

"We're there," Cheryl announced.

In the house she tossed the pizza that was was to have been dinner into the trash and opened another one, put it in the oven.

"Hope you're good with pizza," she said. "Anything to drink? Beer, whiskey..."

"I haven't had alcohol in years," Warren said. "Maybe later."

"OK, we have soda and iced tea," Cheryl said.

"That's cool," Warren replied.

After dining they repaired to the den. At he bar Cheryl poured a glass of wine and Scott poured two fingers of Maker's Mark and three of Coke into a highball glass.

"Sure you won't have a drink?" he asked. "Just one won't hurt."

"One will probably put me out," Warren replied, "and that might be a good thing. Help me sleep."

"Beer," Scott asked. "Heinekin and Stella and Miller Genuine Draft."

"The whiskey looks good," Warren replied.

Scott prepared another drink and took them over and put them on the coffee table.

"Warren," Cheryl said, "there's no way we can know what you're feeling or thinking. Whatever it is you want to talk about, there's nothing it's wrong to say. If there's something you're not comfortable with..."

"I'm all good," Warren said. "Just being... when I walked out the gate and lay down in the grass all I wanted was to not wake up again. I'm over that... you said something about being on the same page with wanting to do something...."

"You ready to talk about it?" Cheryl asked. "So soon after what you went through?"

"I had seven years to deal with that," Warren replied. "I didn't care if I lived another minute, or if anyone else did. If I can change what caused... what happened to me... I'm up for it."

"Did you keep up with the outside world?" asked Cheryl.

"Nope. I did't care. About me or anyone else."

"I can fill you in a bit," Cheryl said, "but it's a long story. Want to start now or wait until later?"

"Give me the Cliff's notes."

"OK, here we go. You were put in prison because you were... inconvenient. You could put some people away, not seriously since they controlled the process but still you could be an embarrassment. So they charged you with a crime that never happened and a kangaroo court convicted you and you went away. Seven years they figure you'll never be a theat. Even after you get out you're a convicted felon."

"Right. What's changed?"

"We're not playing by their rules," Cheryl said. "You really want to be a guerilla? And have the money behind you to make a difference?"

"Money would be handy."

"No worries there," said Cheryl. "There's more than you can imagine. It's a little late, can we take this up in the morning?"

"I'm good with later."