“Do you know that guy?”The question came from above and behind me, as I walked down Center Drive in Corpus Christi on my way to the Lamar Park Pharmacy. I was an eleven-year-old boy in the middle of an idle summer in 1960, bored, hot, heading for the drugstore’s air-conditioning and its revolving paperback rack. I heard the question from a kid sitting high up in the gnarly branches of a live oak tree, but if his friend replied, I was already too far down the street to make out what he said. And I was too nervous to look back to see who was talking about me. The voice in the tree was unfamiliar, and his face probably would have been as well. But the…
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