Danny was walking fast. He had remembered a croaker on 18th Street. Of course the croaker had told him not to come back. Still, it was worth trying... A brownstone house with a card in the window: P.H. Zunniga, M.D.
Danny rang the bell. He heard slow steps. The door opened...
The doctor looked at Danny with bloodshot brown eyes. He was weaving slightly, supporting himself against the doorjamb. He said nothing. He just leaned there, looking at Danny. "Goddamned alcoholic," Danny thought. He smiled.
Danny: "Merry Christmas, Doctor!" Danny: "You remember me, Doctor" Danny: "I