A faint, drifting haze of memories. Of a woman who had cooked his meals and tucked him into bed at night when he was very young. Of somebody named Larry who had once bailed him out of a street fight by making like Bob Feller with some good-sized rocks....
But what was bed?
What was street-fights?
What was Bob Feller?
"I ... guess so."
The room exploded in blinding light that seared his eyes and lanced his brain.
"Are you sure?"
"Oh yes! Oh God, yes!"
The agony was over and once again the room was mercifully black.
"You hate the cities."