“I heard that he was in ‘Nam,” said the smallest one, nervous little Joey. “He lost all his friends and it ruined him. He’s got a little nickel revolver with him, I’ve seen it. Two bullets in it, one for him, and no one knows who the other one is for.”

Kerry was a knowledgable sort, verging on know-it-all. “If he was in ‘Nam, they’d have issued him an M1911A1, not some nickel plated sissy pistol. I heard that he was some bigshot history teacher, like for a college or something.”

“What about that jacket?” said Joey. He was trying to defend his theory, but not loudly enough that the homeless guy could hear him.

“It’s part of something he was teaching. He got dressed up as a vet but he took it too far. He went nuts. Now he thinks he is one but if you look close all the little pieces are wrong.”

Joey wasn’t budging. “I heard that his brother died when he was in ‘Nam and that the stuff is all the brother’s. That’s why it doesn’t fit.”

“Well…well…” quiet Emmy stuttered. “I heard he’s an alien.”

“A what?

“Yeah, he came here to study our…our military but he didn’t get everything right.”

The others stared at him.

“It makes sense!” Emmy added.

Across the street, the homeless man had heard everything that had been said. “If they only knew,” he grunted. “If they only knew.”

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