WHEN MY 59-YEAR-OLD NEIGHBOR KNOCKED AT MIDNIGHT, I THOUGHT I WAS FIXING A PIPE, BUT I WAS REALLY SAVING MY OWN LIFE…

whatever feline bunker he had occupied during the flood and now perched on the arm of the sofa, glaring at me as if plumbing emergencies were personally offensive. Caroline wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and handed me a mug of lemon-mint tea.

The room was warm, softly lit, full of old wood and records and framed photographs. Elvis Presley sat continue reading …