Clep Sperch wasn’t particularly notable for anything. Plenty of men his age lived on the outskirts of town, supporting themselves through disability payments, welfare, and whitetail deer hunting. No one in town looked twice at people in grimy hunting camouflage mixed with international orange balaclavas and gloves moving in and out of the main street bar and grocery store.

Yes, Clep was keenly aware of his lack of notoriety. On some days it rankled him and he pledged to do something to bring himself back into the limelight whose warm gaze he hadn’t known since a shattered ankle ended his run on the track and field team at Earnest C. Sturm High School.

Then, one day, Clem Sperch found something wrapped in a waterproof tarp down by the creek behind his trailer. Even before he saw what it was, he had a sense that what he was looking for had arrived on the wings of a kind angel.