Rogers started to walk. He turned down the same alley and saw the couple up

ahead. They were nearly out of sight. But not quite.

 

Rogers touched his head again at the same spot and then ran his finger back, as

he had before, as though tracing the route of a meandering river.

 

They kept walking for a long time, block after block the couple just in sight.

Always just in sight.

 

It was quite dark now. The couple turned a corner and disappeared from view.

 

Rogers picked up his pace and turned the same corner.

 

His arm caught the blow from the bat. The wood shattered and the top half of the

bat flew off and hit the wall. “Shit!” roared the young man holding it. The

duffel lay open on the ground. The woman was a few feet behind her boyfriend.

She had ducked when the bat had broken in half and sailed in her direction,

causing her to drop her purse.

 

The man let go of the other half of the bat, pulled a switchblade from his

pocket, and opened it. “Give up the three hundred bucks, Mr. Ex-Con, and the

ring and the watch, and you don’t get gutted.” Three hundred bucks? So they knew

the amount based on his decade in prison.

 

Rogers twisted his neck to the right and felt the pop.