The cops helped him shuck his drenched shoes and socks and put him down on the overstuffed horsehide sofa. Alan recovered himself with an effort of will and gave them his ID.
“I’m sorry, you must think I’m an absolute lunatic,” he said, shivering in his wet clothes.
“Sir,” the cop who’d taken the shovel from him said, “we see absolute lunatics every day. I think you’re just a little upset. We all go a little nuts from time to time.”
“Yeah,” Alan said. “Yeah. A little nuts. I had a long night last night. Family problems.”
The cops shifted their weight, showering the floor with raindrops that beaded on the finish.
“Are you going to be all right on your own? We can call someone if you’d like.”
“No,” Alan said, pasting on a weak smile. “No, that’s all right. I’ll be fine. I’m going to change into some dry clothes and clean up and, oh, I don’t know, get some sleep. I think I could use some sleep.”
“That sounds like an excellent idea,” the cop who’d taken the shovel said. He looked around at the bookcases. “You’ve read all of these?” he asked.
“Naw,” Alan said, falling into the rote response from his proprietorship of the bookstore. “What’s the point of a bunch of books you’ve already read?” The joke reminded him of better times and he smiled a genuine smile.