Margaret scampered back to the door to listen to the footsteps of Michael Cheevers as he left his apartment and descended the stairs. It was exactly seven a.m. She rushed over to the second-story window overlooking the street, and watched as Cheevers exited wearing his red baseball cap that had become a regular fixture at his consulting job. He crossed the street to a small newsstand which claimed another foot of sidewalk every year, bought a cup of coffee, and walked down towards Birch Street to catch the subway to work. * * * “Red Hat overlooked the street with the smug stare of a man who was ready to cash in his poker chips. He jaywalked across to Antonio’s and sat in his usual spot in the sun. “‘Hey, Antonio. The usual. It’s a beautiful day today.’ “‘Yes, sir, it is. How’s the wife and child?’ “‘Never better,’ Red Hat lied. ‘I patted the little darling on the head this morning, and you know what she said? She said, “Daddy, why does time fly? Why doesn’t time bug or spider?”
