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have dinner in town. For some reason I did not feel lonely. Driving the short mile and a half to town seemed more pleasant, somehow, than usual. In fact I began to feel more exuberant by the moment as I drove. I decided the cafe I would select would be “Tiny,” the proprietor, was fond of his monicker, which mocked his weight of over 300 pounds. “Tiny” did things in a big way. He wanted lots of room, and lots to eat, so he felt everyone else wanted the same, and gave his patrons generous portions. His waitresses did not merely bring glasses of water to the tables, but glasses plus a large pitcher for refilling. It was not a big cafe, but “Tiny” made you feel big in it. He and his place embraced one in an atmosphere of “welcome, friend.” The front window filled nearly all of one wall. As you entered, the counter was to the right and a few tables spread here and there to the left. As I neared town, I felt strongly that “Tiny’s” was just the place for me. Though it was the middle of December, the evening was mild. I parked the car, and as I walked toward “Tiny’s” I felt a strangeness in the air. There is a cosmic spell over the desert most of the time, but tonight the mystery was less distant and intangible; it was close and pulsating. The sand, the streets, the very buildings seemed to have a softness about them, and the stars were gently glowing lights in the warm, velvet heavens. It was a clue, I suppose, to what the evening held in store for me, but I didn’t recognize it. Just beyond that door I would be swept from normal living into a state not of earth, yet not quite of another world. An exciting, new, nameless sensation. I opened the door, and my eyes fell at once upon a young man sitting alone at a center table. He looked at me, smiling as though he was waiting to see me. We had never met before, for having once seen this face, it was not likely to be forgotten. So strikingly handsome was he that if beheld but once for only a few seconds in a crowd, an indelible impression of his countenance would be imbedded in the memory. 17 ADAM IN THE DESERT the one where Earl and I had dined several times.