He lay in his own filth in an alley in the downtown area of the large city. He tried to cover himself up with his old suit coat, but the coat was too thin, and this was a cold night and so he shivered in misery. There were no newspapers to use for warmth. He had finished the bottle of wine. And now he was awake in the middle of the night and he wondered why he ever had to be awake at all. To get drunk and stay drunk until he could die. This was all he wanted now. To die. Did Heaven have wine? Of course they must. It was a biblical place and they always had wine in the Bible. Maybe not whiskey, but certainly wine. He would not be choosey. To get drunk on wine and then to die. He could not ask for more. Dammit, he was now wide awake and he felt a presence.

     "Good evening, Mr. Jakes."

     He was lying on his side towards the alley when he heard the voice. A nice voice. He rolled over and the first thing he saw was a pair of large white feet. With fur. No shoes on the feet. He was looking at two feet belonging to an animal.

     "Been working a hard shift, have you Mr. Jakes?"

     He looked up, all the way up, and he saw a very tall white rabbit. Wearing glasses. For clothes he had on a plaid jacket and little short pants. What kind of an outfit could that be? A Swiss mountain-climber maybe. Sweet Jesus, he had come full circle. He had seen other animals but none of them wore clothes and they did not talk. At least not very well. He felt, thank God, that he still must be drunk. Not the worst thing when confronted by a tall talking rabbit wearing Swiss clothes.

     "I was out looking for Elwood when I saw you, Mr. Jakes."

     John Jakes propped himself up against the wall. "Have you got a little drink on you, rabbit?"

     "My name is Harvey, Mr. Jakes, and no, I do not have any alcohol with me, but I could supply you with a carrot. Just like Bugs Bunny eats. That's a little rabbit joke, Mr. Jakes. Are you going to throw up?"

     John Jakes vomited, something he did not usually do unless he was getting sober, which was seldom. He felt really awful. His head was splitting and his stomach was spitting and he had puked on part of himself. "I need a drink, I really need a goddam drink."

     "Of course you do, Mr. Jakes, but I would like you to stand up now. Here, I will assist you."

     John Jakes felt two very strong arms lifting him up to his feet. Strong, but very gentle, very warm and remarkably soothing. He began to slide down the wall but again the arms held him to the standing position. He felt his pockets for money. No money. "Could you loan me a couple of bucks, rab...what did you say your name was?"

     "Harvey, Mr. Jakes, and I do not carry money. In fact, I do not even carry any carrots."

     "Some rabbit you are. No carrots, no money."

     "But you are feeling somewhat better now, are you not, Mr. Jakes?"

     "Yeah, I think I am feeling better. Strangest thin g, I'm feeling almost human again, all of a sudden like. Weird, very weird. I can't remember the last time I felt like this."

     "Good, now I would like to have you walk with me, Mr. Jakes."

     "Walk? Walk where?"

     "Why, to look for Elwood, of course."

     "Who's Elwood....Harvey?"

     Harvey explained that he was looking for Elwood P. Dowd, a very good friend of his, a life-long friend. He explained that Elwood P. Dowd was a drinker also and that he had to keep an eye on him. Elwood was not a binge drinker, just slow and steady.

     "A maintenance drinker," John Jakes said, "I used to be one of those too. But it got worse. Much worse."

     "Yes, Mr. Jakes, we live in a world of escalation."

     Harvey went on to explain that while Elwood was a smart man, an educated man, he never did very much with his life, and, in point of fact, most people thought him to be crazy. But Elwood was a kind man and his outlook on life was unreserved kindness towards everyone. Harvey said that Elwood would explain that one could be, oh so smart, or, oh so kind, and you could put him down for being kind.

     "Sounds a little like me, Harvey, although I have not been very kind the last few years." His head was beginning to clear. He was making observations of time, of his time in the past.

     "Does it now? Yes, I can detect a resemblance between you two as a matter of fact. And the kindness will return. It has always been in your soul, Mr. Jakes. It never left, you see."

     "Harvey, you know I think I hear music."

     "Yes, that would be Enya. Is she not beautiful? And if you keep listening, you will hear Chopin as well. Music has so many languages, so many purposes, and tells people of so many misunderstood things. And if one can hear the music, Mr. Jakes, then it follows that such a person can follow the score and behold its beauty and its harmony as it speaks of something so very meaningful to them, only to them. And when one song ends, another will take its place for that is its structure to all of us who would believe in its sweetness."

     They had turned a corner. John Jakes beheld a beautiful small town street with Christmas decorations. "This is March, isn't it...Harvey?"

     "Yes, it is March, Mr. Jakes. We like to call this little place Bedford Falls. It is seen only by people who have missed seeing it for many years. It is kept for them as a remembrance of things past and this street tells them that they can walk down it anytime they would wish."

     John looked at the street of Bedford Falls. It was ablaze with red and green Christmas ornaments. He was surrounded by the aroma of pine and fir and the smell of good food. He did not see anyone on the street but he could hear them, their sounds of joy and contentment. "There is warmth here, Harvey, and laughter. God, I have not heard laughter in so long a time."

     "But you can hear it now, Mr. Jakes, yes, you can hear it now. This street will always be here for you, as it is for everyone. You would want to walk up and down on its sidewalks and then to talk with the people and to laugh with them, sharing their joy and their kindness."

     "Yes, Harvey, I want to do that, I would want to do that very much."

     "Shall we continue, Mr. Jakes?"

     They turned another corner and John Jakes was looking at a place he had known many times in the past, St. Ch ristopher's hospital.

     "Well, Mr. Jakes, would you like to go in now?"

     "Yes, Harvey, I think I can go in. I can do that. But what of you? Are you going to keep looking for Elwood?"

     "Oh, yes, Mr. Jakes, I shall always keep looking for Elwood. I shall keep looking for him every night. Now, before I leave, I have one request for you. I want you, tomorrow morning, to go outside someplace and feel the warm sun in your face and I want you to feel that warm sun each and every morning. Will you do that for me, Mr. Jakes?"

     "Yes, Harvey, I will do that each and every morning. And I hope you find Elwood."

     "Oh, I shall always find Elwood. All I must do is look for him and there he will be. Good night, Mr. Jakes."

     John watched as Harvey walked away, then turned and waved at him and quickly disappeared around the corner. John waved back and noticed that a policman across the street was looking at him, thinking, no doubt, that he was waving at pink lions. But Harvey was real, at least to him, only to him, and not to the policeman. And most important, John felt that he himself was real. Life was coming back into his body. He went into St. Christopher's.

     "Well, John Jakes, walking in here under his own power!" This was Mrs. Remington, head of the Trauma Ward, and someone he had known rather well through the years.

     "Mrs. Remington, I would like to get cleaned up and go to bed. Then I would like to see a doctor in the morning. Could this be arranged for me?"

     "They don't call this place St. Christopher's for nothing. Are you telling me that want to get straightened out, John?"

     "Yes, I want to get straight."

     "It won't be easy, John, you know that, don't you?"

     "Yes, ma'am, I know that."

     "Think you can make it, John?"

     "Yes, Mrs. Remington, this time I think I will make it. I know I can."

     "You know, John, there seems to be a peace about you that I have never seen before. Maybe you will make it. God, I hope so. You are a good man, John Jakes. So, let's get you into a shower."

     "Thank you, Mrs. Remington. And one more thing, please. When I get up in the morning, I would like to go outside and feel the warm sun in my face. Could I do that?"

     "Yes, John, you can do that and you will have company. You are the third person this week coming in here at night and asking the same thing."

     "As you say, Mrs. Remington, they don't call this place St. Christopher's for nothing." John Jakes thought of St. Christopher, a giant who carried travelers across a river just as he had been. He accompanied Mrs. Remington down the hall to get cleaned up. He was still hearing Chopin. He knew that Mrs. Remington would not be hearing the music tonight as he was. "Mrs. Remington, have you ever heard of Bedford Falls Street?"

     "Oh, my God, that's the same question the other two asked. I must attempt to find this place, it really must be something special."

     "Yes, ma'am, it is something special."

     John Jakes went into the shower and felt the good, hot, water cascade over his body and wished that he could let his face dry in the warm sun of the morning.