"You should sleep," Jedao counters, although they have some. Quentin drinks coffee, so Jedao has learned, only for love, how to brew it. "But if you get clean and eat something and can still keep your eyes open, I'll make you coffee."

The cabin he half-carries, half-leads Jim into is definitely a warden's cabin, a full house, the inside of a refurbished New York brownstone, of all things, neat but decorated in homey touches. There are stacks of paper books piled here and there, and pieces of Jedao's hand-quilting hanging on the walls. There are a lot of gentle colors, pastels and russets. Jedao shuffles him into the shower, which has bars and a bench for Quentin's bad back days, and starts the water.