The chasm in his stomachcollapsed into a supermassive black hole as the heavy, shaven headed boybegan to approach the table."Hello love," Doyle ventur...d. "All alone?" Yes." Art caught himself too late. "No." Is it yes or no?" No." Art looked away from Doyle the best he could, down at thescratched, scuffed surface of the table."No, I guess not. I don't think a little lady like you could handle afull bottle to yourself." He gestured to the bottle of wine that sat inthe metallic cooler. Art hated. The other two, also girls, were in their teens and frequently babysat me. The houses are modest starter homes built in the late 70s. Two huge cottonwood trees grew in our front yard and shaded the whole house and into the street. In the backyard we have trees surrounding an open area large enough to play volleyball or play kids baseball. The story I am going to tell started one summer afternoon. I was 6 years old and spent most of my time hanging out with my best friend who lived in the next. More

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