Chapter 48: The GardenerAgain, someone pulled on my arm and dragged me through the crowd of birthday partygoers. This time by the gardener, Sebold. Impulsively, directly, and rather forcefully, he tugged on my left arm, grasping my bicep, and kept repeating, “You have to see this. Come with me. It will blow your mind.”
We bumped into fellow drinkers, dancers, dames, druggies, and dudes among the throng of people. My shoulders grazed other shoulders. My left hip bounced into a young man who looked exactly like Chris Pratt. My right arm dragged along someone’s hip. Questioning the feisty action, I called out to Sebold, “Where are you taking me? What’s happening?”
I thought him high, of course. Or maybe he had too much to drink. He seemed far too steady on his feet to have been drunk, thoug
