46 NoraThe staccato click of Nora’s black pumps on the aged hardwood floors reverberated off the walnut wainscoting rising midway up the hallway walls.
The sounds disappeared into the many layers of wallpaper covering the plaster above.
Armored in her pinstriped power suit and nylon stockings, she lagged only one foot behind Fred Rogers.
Dressed in a gray suit with matching tie and a white shirt, Fred’s tan oxfords pressed gentle squeaks from the floorboards.
He led her along the twisting hallway, taking her and up and down three-riser staircases that appeared in their path for no obvious reason.
The original brick Hammond County courthouse was a labyrinth. She couldn’t navigate the building without Fred’s help.
Which startled her, given how many days and hours of the last ten years
