“Captain, the rescue team from Tanzania has arrived. They’re unloading their gear. Where should I take them?”
Captain Dietrich Hall paused, his hand full of rubble and freezing snow held mid-air.
On the last day of June, Roland George stood looking out his kitchen window. He and his wife Izzy had purchased their New Orleans home in October of the previous year. The Fourth of July holiday was rapidly approaching and he thought about the fence in the front yard. Izzy came into the kitchen and gave him a hug.
“You did well in your previous life, my friend.”
Magawa looked up into the smiling face of the King of Rats, who sat in an ancient rocking chair made of teeth-hewn cypress. As he rocked, the Rat King looked at those assembled around, he and Magawa, who thought there must have been hundreds of other rats staring at him.
Red Gentry pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant at 5:00 a.m. on the dot, smiling to note that he was, as always, the first one there. He parked in front of the building and revved the engine of his 1950 Indian Chief Black Hawk motorcycle. The sound vibrated the windows of the café, and the glass display case on the counter.
