Outspoken Interview “Going to Tobago for this tourney next month.” “You ever run into Wakefield Nakano at these events?” “Funny you should ask, I have a time or two. He’s not a bad shredder.” “You two hang?” “Not really. Why?” “Can’t find out the answers if I don’t ask.” He chuckled deep in his throat. “Talk to you.” “Righteous.” By the time he got back downtown, an orange glow tinged the bottom edge of the sky to the southeast. He and several other pedestrians gazed at this. Was it a fire or some new form of mutant smog? ”Que lástima,” a heavyset woman balancing a plastic basket of freshly dried clothes on her head intoned, “y no tengo carne para asar …” They exchanged wan smiles and he walked on. Passing by a corner liquor store, he heard on the radio newscast from inside that an as of yet unidentified aircraft had crashed in the Cleveland National Forest. The 130-mile swath of nature preserve created by President Teddy Roosevelt butted up against Riverside County with the bulk of its land covering the San Diego area.
