The sun was rapidly sinking before them now as they cruised westward down the highway. Eddie's eyelids began to feel heavy with exhaustion and relief from having unburdened himself. It was the last lap of a long, arduous journey, and for the first time in a long time, his heart felt light and free. And so he slept soundly till morning while Cindy and Carl took turns driving. When Eddie opened his eyes again it was morning and the Mercedes was driving down Lombard Street in San Francisco heading for the Golden Gate Bridge. The bright signs of the motels and restaurants on the wide thoroughfare cheered Eddie and also made him aware of the hunger gnawing in his stomach. He couldn't remember the last square meal he'd eaten and was delighted when Carl pulled the sedan into the parking lot of a restaurant specializing in pancakes. The threesome ordered pancakes and eggs and sausages, drank coffee, and readied themselves for the last leg of the trip.

As they drove down onto the Golden Gate Bridge Eddie's breath caught in his throat as he was struck by the incredible beauty of San Francisco Bay in the early morning light. They drove over the bridge and through a tunnel painted like a rainbow, and Eddie felt like he was in the wonderland of Oz. California was the most beautiful place he'd ever seen.

Lily Granger lived in a small rustic cabin on a dirt road in the hills of Mill Valley. It was a simple three-room structure with a bathroom, built of redwood and situated in the middle of a grove of eucalyptus trees. The furniture was sparse. A rickety old oak table and chairs in the kitchen, with odds and ends of dishes and silverware picked up at garage sales, and in the living room was an old sofa covered with an Indian blanket to mask the tom upholstery. The rest of the living room furniture consisted of a number of pillows and cushions strewn about the hardwood floor. But the simple dwelling was filled with plants of all kinds, many of them suspended from the walls and ceilings by pretty macrame hangers that Lily herself had made. There were several paintings on the walls, none of them very good, but all of them done by friends. There was also a fireplace, but at the moment it was filled with old newspapers and cigarette butts.