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STARING OUT OVER THE canyon, the cool breezes of autumn were finally starting to sweep away the oppressive heat of summer. Crispy was eager to continue, but couldn’t help but join Ray in admiring the sprawling vista of the valley below. The fauna of the canyon was different from the manicured shrubbery not fifty feet behind them, wild and unfettered by the complex civilization built to either side.
Hobbling up Crescent Heights to the Doric splendor of the Mount Olympus sign, Crispy followed close behind Ray. In another city, such a place might incur a fever of bad jokes, but in Los Angeles, people paid millions for the privilege to live there. The steep climb to the top of the world wore hard on Ray’s recent infirmity, and between short breaths, he told Crispy everything he’
