Chapter 10

Mitch was a pile of kaleidoscopic bits and pieces, mostly bright and fascinating with a few dull stones thrown in for variety’s sake. Fuck me if I didn’t want to pick up each little piece and study it, trying to learn what its job was in the life of the whole man.

Shit, and now I was becoming some sort of sorry cowboy poet. Dammit. Better to get back to the practical.

“You want to go camping? Why?” I liked to spend the night in the woods, especially this time of the year when it’s not too hot and the insects are at a minimum.

“Hey, I grew up in San Francisco, Ben. I’m what some people call a city rat. I never belonged to a Scout troop or anything like it, so all I saw was concrete most of the time, unless I trekked to the park or the shore.”

He was talking about Golden Gate Park, which was a long, wide swath of green cutting through mostly townhouses and apartments both fancy and plain. The park housed a bunch of my favorite buildings and walks.