Chapter 12

           ThecabIhadwasarealoldonethatsmelledlikesomeone’djusttossedhiscookiesinit.IalwaysgetthosevomitykindofcabsifIgoanywherelateatnight.Whatmadeitworse,itwassoquietandlonesomeout,eventhoughitwasSaturdaynight.Ididn’tseehardlyanybodyonthestreet.Nowandthenyoujustsawamanandagirlcrossingastreet,withtheirarmsaroundeachother’swaistsandall,orabunchofhoodlumy-lookingguysandtheirdates,allofthemlaughinglikehyenasatsomethingyoucouldbetwasn’tfunny.NewYork’sterriblewhensomebodylaughsonthestreetverylateatnight.Youcanhearitformiles.Itmakesyoufeelsolonesomeanddepressed.IkeptwishingIcouldgohomeandshootthebullforawhilewitholdPhoebe.Butfinally,afterIwasridingawhile,thecabdriverandIsortofstruckupaconversation.HisnamewasHorwitz.HewasamuchbetterguythantheotherdriverI’dhad.Anyway,Ithoughtmaybehemightknowabouttheducks.

           "Hey,Horwitz,"Isaid."YoueverpassbythelagooninCentralPark?DownbyCentralParkSouth?"

           "Thewhat?"

           "Thelagoon.Thatlittlelake,like,there.Wheretheducksare.Youknow."

           "Yeah,whataboutit?"

           "Well,youknowtheducksthatswimaroundinit?Inthespringtimeandall?Doyouhappentoknowwheretheygointhewintertime,byanychance?"

           "Wherewhogoes?"