The relentless thumping on the Dutch door yanked Lou from his deep, troubled dream. He lost the image of men in black surrounding his sauna and awoke to the cold darkness of his wintry van. The strident banging from the back door pierced his thoughts, followed by screams of a frantic voice. What’s happening, Lou? He tried to make sense of it. Are they here? Am I busted?
Lou jerked upright, his naked body accosted by the chilly air. An unthinking urgency compelled him to stand, wobbling upon sluggish knees. The blankets slid to the floor. He staggered to the back door, pulled by the raucous pounding and calling. “Louie! Louie! Louie!”
He opened the upper half of the rear Dutch door and looked down. There, in the full-moon light, wide-eyed and frenetic, stood Jax. She was just as alluring, just as entrancing, as when their entangled tale began. With hopes for her love left to fantasy, a tiny spark did remain, and from that spark came the memory of his first sight of Jax and the series of events before and since. His arrival in Oregon, that unexpected encounter with Anne, the Indian Chief, the debacle at the museum, all that spilled beer.
But of all times, why now? He had lost nearly everything he had. The community he loved, his whole way of life, was on the verge of disaster. Yet, despite this moment of confusion and the dire prospect for the coming day, Lou was jolted by another thought. It began with that fuzzy, pink bunny slipper.
Great! But shouldn't it be "Lou felt" ? Yet, it works either way.