From page 390 of the book: In a clever, circumspect style, Sylvester had begun to ask questions about his cousin while he drove the back streets of Flushing, around Kissena Park, past Queens College, toward Grand Central Parkway. Maneuvering us away from the Long Island Expressway, due to an accident that had backed up traffic for a mile, he had kept at me with questions and accusations.
"Sylvester," I began, "I'm sorry you weren't told."
"Sorry! Being sorry is for assholes. I thought we didn't keep secrets."
"We don't," I said.
"Well?"
I looked at my driver, at his six-foot-two presence with a gentle face, mad eyes, and wet, curly black hair.
"You're right," I said. "Sorry. There haven't been secrets between us, but this time it was different."
"I don't think so," he bit his nails, keeping his eyes on the road ahead of us.
"Let me explain," I offered.
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| A view of Queens College |
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| Aerial view of the Queens College campus |
...past Queens College, toward Grand Central Parkway. Maneuvering us away from the Long Island Expressway,...
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