t;

    turned. quot;I t—quot;

    quot; me see it to t;

    tess cer our impromptu picnic, ting side by side on a park bencalking in t sunsurn to me, ness, so t I  old me stories t fed my desire for more stories, so t I mig forget a single line. I loved eacal touc of he way she made me feel alive and fully human.

    On ted nearly oo a picnic along tion in gratitude to all of tors and nurses, all of Little Oscars sces and teaceers—suced relatives, a priest or ti, and table  feast . C dogs. Corn and ermelon trucked in from dotles of tuff, tubs of ice and sodas for ters, a cake specially made in ty for table, iced in red, tering script. ty began at four in ternoon and lasted all nig became dark enoug off a fireo time,   Vietnam and to tion.

    In t. tess looked delicious t evening, a cool smile, and brigs in  all of ors, a bevy of nurses, and far too many firemen and policemen, baked tan and ser ticed  in ted t  I had known him from my former life.

    quot;; e sroduced o us boto compare notes.

    quot;So, Ungerland, ts an unusual name.quot;

    quot;German.quot; ared at the women, who were laughing in an overly personal way.

    quot;Your family from Germany?quot;

    quot;Off t long time ago. My familys been in town for a ;

    A stray string of firecrackers  off in a rat-a-tat of pops.

    quot;Came from a place called Eger, I t like I said, man, t ;

    I told udied ened. t of t a acavs fation as merely tion of my stressful nigy of s