Introduction
Neither of us felt like saying anything about anything - the morning sun on our shoulders was too hot. As we walked, we heard nothing but the sound of distant traffic up on the Verrazzano, an almost-white noise. My eye caught sight of a black-hulled freighter that was just leaving the harbor.
Perspiration began to soak the doctor's shirt. That would not happen to me, because I was practically naked. Had I anticipated parading through any part of Brooklyn in my underwear, I might have not chosen my pale blue boxer shorts. But there I was, wearing only leather loafers, dark ankle-length socks, and broadcloth boxers. To complete my ludicrous ensemble, a bright yellow motorcycle helmet hung from my arm, like a flower basket. It was filled with socket wrenches. This was how it had been ordained I would meet my fate.
He was fretting, still concentrating on the letter in his clipboard. He forced a little cough and spoke, sounding more weary than authoritative. "It's the last building in the row. Now remember, you don't say anything unless he asks."
"Don't worry; I won't."
***
