But Myles wasn’t mentally deficient, just so giving of himself and his belongings. A stranger would admire his shirt, and he’d take it off and hand it to him. An adult woman of any age would eye him. He’d grab her shopping bags and walk her home, chattering about her life with her. Pimps, crackheads, thugs, anyone with a spark of decency watched out for him. Threaten any stranger who’d ask Myles for some loose change, but then not move on after he’d emptied his wallet with a smile.