"It's all right. Beats shoveling snow."
"It feels a lot milder," Oliver said. "We could get snow anytime in
Maine."
"Friggin snow," the driver said. "Here you go."
"You want to wait a couple of minutes—off the meter? I'll need another ride."
"Where to?"
"There's supposed to be a big Japanese garden up on a hill. . ."
"I'll wait."
"Be right out." Oliver checked in, left his bag in his room, and came out feeling light-footed. He had a map in one pocket of his bush jacket. He unfolded it in the cab. "So—where is it?"
"Washington Park, Kingston Avenue."
"I see it. Great. Let's go." They drove into the city and climbed through a residential district. The driver stopped at the entrance to the garden.