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Chapter 4

I sat down at a picnic table—why the hell not, put my backpack in front of me and opened it and there, oh yeah, the chocolate covered cherries for my imaginary father. I ripped the box open and ate them, first delicately and then shoving them into my mouth and wiping my face on my sleeve. I had to anyway to blot the tears, by then. Dinner; boy that was great! Then I looked around and saw some bum digging through the trash can nearby so I stood up and went to a different one and dug through it and found some stale French fries, hell yeah, dessert!

I went back to my table and started shoving them in my mouth but the bum came over and grabbed them. “That’s mine! That’s my shit!” he hollered. “My table! Leave my shit alone, haole you!” My mouth dropped open and a laugh burbled out before I could help myself. Could this night get any worse?

Why yes, yes it could.