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With Destiny, he was dazzled, a novice whose enthusiasm matched hers Despite her claims about the open relationship, she had with Creed, there was no question of theirat the Unruhs’, where Creed and Shawn popped in and out of the school bus In the main house, Deborah was a constant presence Rain had playdates, swioing; kids being picked up, kids being dropped off Their only choice was for her to coe it For transportation, she borrowed the Unruhs’ Buick

While Walker ay on vacation, Jon maintained a strict neutrality when he was in the co sure no hint of their altered relationship eed Destiny, by nature, would have played the situation for high dra conflict, and what better instance of it than twofor the same woman, especially if it was her It was the substance of myth Competition between them would endow her with status She was the prize for which they would battle until one or the other was felled Jon was having none of it He had no respect for Creed, but he didn’t see why he should suffer hu for her at his place, he felt suspended, counting thewhat they’d done, fantasizing what they’d do next He never knehen she’d arrive or whether she’d ave for her absences and he didn’t care to ask Without warning, she’d knock on the door at the bottom of the stairs At the top there was a second door, and by the ti the stairs two at a ti and out of breath They’d hole up in his roo love at a frantic pace, all noise and sweat She taught him about pleasure and excess, all the appetites of the flesh Between bouts of sex they’d share a joint His studio was a haze of weed and cigarette smoke At intervals they’d trail down the stairs, often naked, and wander into thetheir way through his high-end Chardonnay Dope ht, most of it junk since Jon didn’t have the hnuts, chips, candy bars, cookies, peanut butter and crackers--their makeshift feasts as intense as the sex

In order to ed hi was halfhearted and many days he skipped He saw Destiny on randoe for dinner, and then sit down at his desk, which he usually reached by 9:00 He worked into the wee hours, shorting himself on sleep There was no other way around it The dope, fatigue, and alcohol took their toll, fogging his brain and breaking up his concentration This was a proble his work The second week, his deadline came up on hihter, writing feverishly until the sky turned light

He’d come up with a cool idea about a kid who ran with a pack of wild dogs; this in the Deep South--Georgia, Alaba under the porch of a ra on scraps Jon could smell the dirt and the anihts when the as still and the dogs howled fro to the kid He didn’t have a clue where he was going with the story, but he es

He handed in what he’d done, and sat, as he always did, feigning nonchalance while he waited for Mr Snow’s response This tih the whole of it, frowning

Jon said, "You don’t like it"

"It’s not that I don’t knohat to say Ihere The prose is serviceable You lean toward the melodramatic, but it doesn’t play because the setup isis stark, but it co about the South? Have you ever even been there?"

"I was using ination Isn’t that the point?"

"But why this? You’re talking about five or six dogs and I can’t tell one from the other Okay, one has yellow eyes and another one has a rough coat You’re giving me characteristics, not characters Even if you write about dogs you have to differentiate That’s where conflict comes from Then you have this kid with no personality at all, which is a tough proposition given the situation you’ve put him in Where’s Jon Corso in this? As far as I knohat you describe here bears no relation to your life or your problems or your hopes or your dreams Wait, maybe I should ask this first Have you ever run with a pack of dogs?"