The sound of a lawnmover came on a wisp of breeze. We lived about half a mile away. We were both fourteen, almost a year older than we had been when w...'d had our first little 'experience' in Dougie's cellar. She was in the middle of a growth spurt and was as tall as I was. Her hair was fiery red and she'd been letting it grow so it flowed over her back halfway to her waist. Today she had a light green band in it and it made a long pony tail behind her. She had green eyes, and her face was. She in answering the call sounded happy to hear from him. There was a little discussion on what if anything new had happen in their lives but then the question of what to do this weekend was talked about. They both agreed that there were not many places to go to or things to do as there were in a big city. Nancy suggested instead of going to Ken’s West here that they should take a ride and go to the original Ken’s which was located in North Rivers. Brad seconded that suggestion and asked her. Jean was a princess; I knew I could trust her.It was damn near 2,400 miles from Detroit, Michigan, to Popotla in the Baja: Small village no more than fifteen minutes south of Rosarito Beach, the latter famed for its surfing part of the year. Another bud of mine was there. One of the few in the whole world that I absolutely trusted: Juan Diego Santana De Los Robles: the seer of Popotla. Ron couldn't help me get over my hurt, but Juan Diego might; I was certain of it; it's what he was known for;. It all started my mind working. Next chance I had, I picked up a cheap cell phone. I had asked one of the truckers to bring a few phone books from his delivery area. Then, between pallets, I made a few phone calls to contractors and builders in the metropolitan area around the Big Apple.One afternoon, one of the friendlier truckers pulled into the yard. I met him and together we went to see Dan Flood."Dan, I want to buy a truck load of palleted stone, and I'll pay cash," I told the surprised.
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