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My place is up there." He glanced up at the upper level of the garage and unlocked the side door. As I followed him in, I read his name off the punche... label on the mail box. Jason. As I climbed the stairs, I was trying to count in my head how many Jason’s I’d left loads in before.The place was small, just a studio with a small kitchenette and a pull-out sofa bed. I told Jason to pull out the bed while I used the bathroom, which was barely large enough to stand up in. In the bathroom, I tore. " He shook his head."So you relied on the old five-fingered widow?" That I did, an' maybe a few wore-out tavern wenches. Some did goats or sheep, some did each other, but that weren't f'me. How much farther we got to go?"A ways," I said, as we approached the army's ferry that crossed the James near Hopewell. The sun was sinking by then, but we were almost there."There's the tavern I tole you about," I said maybe a half hour later. Want'a stop for a beer?" Naw. I want'a poke that gal til I'm. More

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