Not that he would have minded. Either way he would be enjoying his afternoon. John began to whistle as he peddled away. Things were going smoothly.Jan...ce didn't even get off the couch for an hour. The tears had stopped, but only because they had run dry. Zombie like, she went upstairs and sat in her son's room. Just sat... and stared at the wall. Being close to his things made her feel slightly better.It was almost 4 in the afternoon when Janice was suddenly jarred awake by the sound of someone. But some little boy had scratched his name into wet cement. I could easily imagine Dag having done the same kind of thing when he was a child. These streets were his home. He probably grew up near this very place. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t making a saint out of him and revering the neighborhood he grew up in. But it really got to me that this was his neighborhood and his neighbors would want to know about him.I quickened my steps back to the Swedish American Center, took my knäckebröd. More

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