The House is Full of Yogis

Nev was no longer a spectre of ill health. He was looking young and fresh in jeans and a colourful T-shirt that said Welcome to Florida, The Land of Sunshine. He was tanned and he had filled out, the edges taken off his angularity. He gave me a stiff hug before presenting a gift: my own Sony Walkman. This was welcome indeed. It meant I no longer had to steal Tom’s and risk a beating. Nev got Tom an electronic baseball game. Now I would get to risk a beating for stealing that instead. Nev also had Levi’s for both of us, explaining that Rick, the man he had been staying with, worked in the jeans business and gave them to him at a discount.