Such stillness, such serenity, filled the room, and she watched the young doctor pull back from his friend, close Louis’s open eyes, and touch his face.  He wiped the tears from his eyes and cheeks, and stood up and turned to Dessie, who moved to him and took his hand.

     “Are you alright?” she asked him, wiping her own tears.

     “I’ll bury him up there under his oak tree,” Dr. Hall said.

     He was in shock, in grief, and he walked out of the room in silence.  Dessie prepared Louis’s body for burial, and Dr. Hall went outside to get a shovel to dig the grave.  He came back in and carried his friend’s frail, light shell, wrapped in his quilt, outside, and carefully, and gentl...

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