On an Oak Creek Street, a Retired Navy SEAL Took Off His Flannel Shirt

“The whole glass panel is shaking.

I can’t focus on these equations.”

“Take your books up to the back bedroom,” I said.

“It’s quiet at the desk upstairs.”

“Is he even allowed to put that heavy frame right on the line?” she asked.

“Go on upstairs, Emily,” I said.

She collected her binder and pencils, her ponytail swinging over her right shoulder, and hurried to the stairs.

I stood at the window for three whole minutes.