I have decided to believe her.

Part Twenty-Six: Linus

Here is everything I have of my son.

A knitted hat, cream, made by a woman named Doris Vanderhoof in a church group in Sun Prairie, who I wrote to in the second year and who wrote back a page and a half and who has since died.

An envelope with a lock of dark hair.

A length of ribbon with nineteen and a quarter inches marked on it in ballpoint.

Four photographs, one of which is on a shelf in my hall and three of which are in a drawer.