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I did my morning routines and prepared for my return to Seattle. Once more I lingered at the window in my room for a long distance view of the Buckingham Fountain, thinking I didn’t have enough sense to get out of the way of the heavy spray. I told myself I hadn’t paid it much attention to know the fountain goes off every twenty minutes, that I didn’t realize it shot up one-hundred-fifty feet, and that I couldn’t have foreseen the sudden gust of wind. Excuses notwithstanding, it seemed to be a metaphor of my life lately. I’d been walking into situations with dire consequences, to where now I was hanging dangerously from a precipice, and if I wasn’t careful and hyper-alert ... I sucked in a bushel of air. I refused to consider the worst. I was ready to fight.
Bobby’s call came in my ta
