Might have been drugs. I was oblivious to my surroundings most of the time.Harmony visited me every day—the high point of my dispensary stay."Hey, b...yfriend," Harmony said as she held my hand and stroked my face."Hey, girlfriend," I parroted. "Thanks for visiting me."Harmony talked. Often she'd ask a question and I didn't have an answer. Yes, I was still pretty much a blank page. I guess that was my primary attraction as the boyfriend of an exclusively homosexual woman—I would be what she wrote. Having an income made her a target for the layabouts. Having a child ... not so much. And the child was mouthy. Couple of weeks and the layabouts stopped pestering the widow.“She’s attractive,” they said. “But that kid.”They had one thing that set them apart; tools. Special tools. Planers and table saws, woodworking and air tools. And they were building a BOAT! The woman seemed to know what she was doing.“Skilled ... she’s meticulous. Like a cabinet maker. A craftsman ... and a teacher.“That. More

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