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"Keep your Spanx on, Wells," Canavan says "I’ you home, like I prouard wasn’t tailing us Wouldn’t like theure out where you live, noould we, in case they decide to shut you up next?"

I s and look behind us We’re not being followed by anyone, though, unless you count the goofy-looking New York College trolley, picking up and dropping off excited fresh various late-afternoon orientation events

"I’ Spanx" is all I can think of to say in reply to the detective "That’s insane Who wears Spanx under stretch cords? They’d show a line across the thigh"

Detective Canavan only grunts in reply as he continues to drive the rest of the way around the park toward Cooper’s brownstone Turner, looking chagrined by his supervisor’s rejection of his colorful suggestion, plays Angry Birds on his smartphone in silence I’m the only one in the car who notices the blind ton Square, over by the fountain

Unlike other blind men I’ve seen there in the past, however, this one isn’t stru a Ger a red-tipped white cane back and forth in front of hi down jungle grass toto believe my eyes, but they haven’t deceived ht He seems to be headed back toward Fischer Hall, a happy bounce in his step that htily pleased with the way things are going (And ouldn’t he be? He just scored free room and board for a year in one of the most expensive places to live on earth), perfectly unaware that flocks of pigeons--and confused pedestrians--are scattering fro struck by his cane

I know it h The fact that Dave can be so joyous--so fearless and lacking in self-pity--brings cheer into even my heart, which I’ve recently been told has become hardened from my job

All I can think is if Dave Fernandez, who’s been through so ate the crowded paths of Washington Square Park without being able to see, surely I can navigate the paths of otten lately

But the sudden surge of optimism leaves me when Detective Canavan’s Crown Vic pulls up in front of Cooper’s pink brownstone and I see three fa forwhite

But I really hate white

I thought of wearing puce

But who the hell wears puce?

"Marriage Song,"