It's three thousand miles from the green fields of glory, where
Henry "call me Hank" Thompson once played California baseball, to
the Lower East Side of Manhattan, where the tenements are old, the
rents are high, and the drunks are dirty. But now Hank is here,
working as a bartender and taking care of a cat named Bud who is
surely going to get him killed.
It begins when Hank's neighbor, Russ, has to leave town in a rush
and hands over Bud in a carrier. But it isn't until two Russians in
tracksuits drag Hank over the bar at the joint where he works and
beat him to a pulp that he starts to get the idea: Someone wants
something from him. He just doesn't know what it is, where it is,
or how to make them understand he doesn't have it.
Within twenty-four hours Hank is running over rooftops, swinging
his old aluminum bat for the sweet spot of a guy's head, playing
hide and seek with the NYPD, riding the subway with a dead man at
his side, and counting a whole lot of cash on a concrete floor.
All because of two cowboys, two Russian mafia men, and some of the
weirdest goons ever assembled in one place. All because of Bud. All
because once, in another life, in another world, the only thing
Hank wanted was to take third base--without getting caught.
"From the Hardcover edition."
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