’ ‘That was you,’ he asked in disbelief realizing she’d been his champion all along. It dawned on him where the motorcycle-jacket came from an... how she acquired it. In fact it was still lying on the living room floor. Strange that he never thought of whom it once belonged, thinking it was hers all this time. ‘Yes it was me. Do you remember the night your mother came to seduce and perhaps change you? You began to cry making her emotional. The next day she told me she was giving you to me, to do. But he lowered the fist to his side, though he kept it clenched tighter than Great Grandpa Macleod squeezing a buffalo nickel when the collection plate passed.The man--I reasonably assumed from the narrow, ratty beard that crawled around its jaw line like an unpressed caterpillar, the Schwarzeneggeresque physique, and the seventeen tattoos on each of its upper arms that it was male--was a gall-swollen redwood growing out of my front porch. Try to imagine a redwood topped by leaves the color of. More

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