He forced himself to carefully count the suits one more time. And got yet another number. There were probably either 130 or 127 or 133 or 128 suits of clothes hanging in the open closet just there in front of him. And on the floor beneath each suit was a pair of shoes. So however many suits were in the closet, there were that many pairs of shoes also. It occurred to him the first time he saw them that there were not that many suits in all of Bacon County, Georgia, which was where he came from. But he was not in Bacon County now. He was in a house that was as big as a train station on St. Charles Avenue in New Orleans, Louisiana, and things were different here from the way they were where he came from. Christ, were they different. The whole world had changed up on him in New Orleans. Like the houses on St. Charles Avenue. There were few of them he could look at and not be reminded of a train station or else wonder why in God’s name anybody would want to live in something so unthinkably huge.
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