“About the vision,” prompted Dicky.
“Right. The most important part!”
Awakened by the old man’s exclamation, the attendant in the next room asked, “Somebody need something?”
“Get the hell back to sleep!”
Dicky heard Greg resettle in his cot, and resume snoring.
“So I sees this vision that night in the storm . . .
“In it, I’m sittin’ in a hotel lobby on a green couch, wearin’ a blue suit. It’s dawn an’ through the window you can see a royal blue sky an’ just a little bit of the sun poking her head up from the grass like a gopher—pretty like in a paintin’. I’m sittin’ there, drinkin’ a tea,”—Blackie pointed to a cup that was resting on the nearest table—“and I’m watchin’ the sun come up an’ this woman comes into the lobby. She is . . . she is . . .” The oldster shook his head as he s
