It was Mama who bought Lal his first mask. That was more than twenty Carnivals ago and now he had developed a great fondness for wearing them.
Joel was fishing in Duck Hollow, on an old mill pier. A nice spot, secluded, including a three-street neighborhood accessible only by a fifty-foot bridge. Duck Hollow was surrounded by brownfield developments, but none of them ever touched the neighborhood. Joel knew folks there, knew that they enjoyed their isolation . . .