’ ‘Danielle Victor.’ She said. ‘My real name is Danielle Victor.’ ‘Yes it is. Now Ms. Victor, care to go meet your grandfather?’ We hopp...d in my car and I drove her to the hotel. I may have a car, but with the price of gas being what it is, I’ll be damned if I drive to somewhere I can walk to. Danielle was of this opinion most of the time, too. It was good exercise for the both of us to walk and kept her legs nice and toned, which was far more important to me than ‘being healthy.’ Danielle. We whiled away the summer. Some folks talked about remaining in Camp Navarro through the autumn and early winter. I looked at the sign mounted about thirty feet above the highway, indicating the high-water mark of the 1964 flood. I thought that staying into the rainy season was not a good idea, y’know? — I had thumbed rides into Mendocino. Nothing special, I just liked to walk around town. I was near the weirdly-carved Masonic Hall when I heard a voice call from behind me. ‘Ron? Ron Carson? Is. More

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