NARRATIVE of WARD COURIER
March, 2008
RUSKIN, NY
Nine o'clock on a Tuesday evening in late March found me ordering again at the bar of The Tom, waiting for a couple of my school friends to show up. My spirits were high. It was the first night of the spring break. I had over three weeks off. I was planning to leave the next morning for a New England jaunt to catch the last of the skiing.
I of course thought of Lys Mall, the very interesting woman I'd met for the second time half a month before on the same night of the week. I had given her my card and heard nothing from her. I didn't read anything at all into that. I didn't think it was her job to call me. In fact, I thought the way the scene had been handled was a good-natured blowoff. Had she been interested, she would have given me h
