THIRTEEN
DENVER, COLORADO — JUNEChester waved to the boys on the bus and burst through the door with a large box under his arm. A pleasant aroma wafted from the kitchen where dinner was being served to the packed-house of boarders. He saw his mother come down the hall, and he carefully put the box on the floor.
“Mama!”
“Chester! You’re back!”
He gave her a big hug. Aunt Anna looked over from behind the stove.
“Let me look at you, boy,” Ramona said. “Oh, my. What happened?”
“What do you mean?” He removed his sunglasses.
“We need to fatten you up some,” his aunt cried. “That food on the road made you skinny as a rail.”
He shrugged. “I’m not that bad, am I? I lost a couple pounds of fat, but I added some muscle.” He was right. He had put on muscle. Everywhere. His arms, his chest. As
