early storm had closed the line ahead. Their honeymoon savings consisted of forty-three dollars, two sandwiches wrapped in wax paper, and a reservation at a boardinghouse they might never reach. Walter had just left military service and was preparing for his teaching certificate. Evelyn had a new library job waiting. They were young enough to believe that an inconvenient night was the greatest disaster marriage could bring.
The boy appeared beside the station's coal shed shortly after dusk. He was thirteen, narrow-shouldered, and dressed in a thin jacket that offered little protection from the wet snow. He held a torn timetable and kept asking departing passengers which road led to the next town. Most people assumed he belonged to somebody else. Walter noticed that he had no luggage, while Evelyn noticed he was staring at the food in their hands. When she offered half a sandwich, he refused at first, then accepted it with a speed that told them he had gone a long time without eating.
His name was Tommy Avery. His mother had died the previous winter, and the arrangements made afterward had carried him from one relative's house to another until he no longer knew where he was supposed to belong. He had left a temporary placement after a frightening argument, believing he could reach an aunt who lived beyond the mountain pass. He did not know the distance or the train fares. He knew only that her last letter had contained the words, "You can always come to me." It was a slender hope to carry through a storm, but it was all he had.
Walter wanted to find station staff immediately. Evelyn agreed, but she would not let the boy out of her sight while they waited. The station office was overwhelmed with stranded travelers, and the nearest child-welfare officer was hours away on a blocked road. Nobody proposed anything malicious. Nobody set out to abandon the boy. Yet every official answer seemed to end with someone else being responsible, and Tommy had learned to expect that responsibility would somehow vanish before it reached him. When an employee suggested he wait alone in a storage room until morning, Evelyn said firmly that he would wait with them instead.
They spent the night in the station waiting room. Walter gave Tommy his scarf and bought an extra bowl of soup with money meant for their honeymoon dinner. Evelyn wrote down the address of the aunt, found the station telephone, and kept calling until somebody in the distant town answered. At daybreak, they learned that the aunt had been searching for Tommy through agencies and relatives for weeks. The road remained blocked, so Walter used another portion of their savings to purchase a ticket on the first train moving east. They traveled with the boy, not because anyone ordered them to, but because Evelyn refused to say goodbye until she had watched him reach someone who would welcome him.