Отрывок из книги
Tim was born at St. Joseph Hospital just off north Lake Shore Drive on a cold, snowy winter day in 1950. He was the fourth and last child born to Irish immigrants. His parents had met at the Holiday Ballroom, a popular meeting place frequented by north side Irish. Their families had immigrated to America in the 1920’s and 1930’s. They came in stages. A few came and settled, finding jobs and apartments. Others joined them as money and job opportunities permitted. Both families found jobs connected in one way or another with the City and its patronage driven political system dominated by Irish Catholics.
There was nothing remarkable about Tim’s birth except his size. He was eleven pounds at birth. His head was unusually large with a broad high forehead, a trait that came from his father’s side of the family. Maybe the extra-large head provided room for the grey matter that gave him an exceptional gift for memory. Tim had a remarkable ability to recall the past in vivid detail. It gave him a powerful edge in an elementary and high school system that placed heavy reliance on rote memorization for learning.
.....
“Get away from me mister! Leave me alone. Go away.” Tim said in a halting, uneven voice. His voice was still going through the change from a boy’s voice to a man’s.
The man stayed where he was, but shuffled back and forth like he had done on the corner. Tim noticed that he was much older than he had appeared from a distance. The man leered at him through dark deep-set eyes that had pupils as wide as quarters in watery eye sockets. He was several inches shorter than Tim, who at 6 feet was tall for his age. The man was very thin almost skinny and had a sickly appearance and greasy looking whiskers on his face.
.....
