One day, for reasons he didn’t understand, Leonard Ames decided to do something completely out of character. After wandering the streets, looking at things in the windows – perfumes, bicycles, carpets and bracelets – he entered a store and purchased a little blue guitar for a hundred dollars. For almost a year he drove around with the thing in his car and a note saying Best Wishes, Leonard slipped between the strings. Then, one spring, when the sun had gone down and the sky was like an overripe melon, he parked outside a small house with a swing in the yard, placed the guitar on the step, and pressed the buzzer. Minutes later he was on the highway, his foot against the pedal, speeding like a man fleeing the scene of a crime.