“Am I glad to see you!” She paused to catch her breath, the hair whipping and lashing her face—before extending a white bag. “Tell me you’ll deliver this to Wilber Cole—out in Mirabeau Park—like, yesterday, please? Before he eats anything?”
I took the bag and looked at her. “Now you know that when you ask like that I can’t help but to comply.” I peeked inside the sack. “I’m not even going to ask.”
“One in the morning—before breakfast, and one at night, just before dinner.” She jumped as a garbage can toppled and papers cycloned. “Before meals, okay? Don’t forget.”
“It’ll be done—I was going out there anyway. Go on, git.”
She paused, looking suddenly abashed. “Oh, Chief—”
“It’s all right,” I watched as the power lines began to waver—ominously, precariously. “Vicki, don’t make me—”
And
