The fatigue and cramps that Fred’s magic grass kept at bay slowly returned. Lost and confused, Melissa tripped over a cluster of roots, falling face...first on the forest floor, cutting her knee open on a sharp rock.“Ow!”It was not a good day for Melissa. Grimacing, she clenched her fists. Maybe she would give up. She recalled every decision that led to shivering in the cold at the mercy of the elements. The overbearing trees stood still and unyielding. Something about them pissed her off.. The taxista went up to one of them and asked if this was La Casa de Los Angeles."Si." The woman, swarthy with the high cheekbones that revealed much Indian blood, walked away and began to hang laundry on the next line.The taxista followed her, spewing a voluble stream of Spanish apparently designed to get her talking again. She spat on the ground and turned her back.Saying something clearly obscene, the cab driver grabbed the woman and turned her, raising his hand to strike her across the. More

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