Rock's father Richard was deeply engaged in a novel. He sat across from Rock in a small cafe that could have doubled as a library. It was time to go, Rock knew. His mother Jane was in their car in the parking lot, but his father was consumed by the book, so much so that he made notes on a yellow legal pad as he read.
Rock finally got him to agree to leave, but as they walked toward the car, Rock noticed an offtrack betting facility in a wing of the strip mall to his left. He had completely forgotten there was a bet he intended to make, an exacta on two horses who were currently at odds of 5-1 and 7-1. The place had a tote board on its roof, visible in the dark of six p.m. all the way to Central Avenue.
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