Gene was a sound sleeper. Not much woke him once he was out. Elder Russon probably would have made it out the door had he not bumped a chair with his suitcase. The chair scraped across the floor, and Gene was suddenly sitting straight up, confused about what was happening. He saw the shadow, near the door, and even in the dark knew that Elder Russon had his clothes on. “What's going on?” he said. “Nothing. I'll see you.” The door was coming open, and Gene responded instantly. He threw back his feather tick, jumped up, grabbed for Russon. He caught a handful of suit coat, then an arm, and he pulled. Russon spun, fought to yank his arm away, but he still had the suitcase in one hand. Geen drove foward suddenly, clamped both arms around Russon, jerked him away from the door.
