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The end flattened and began to grow. It got larger and larger until it was five feet or so across and vaguely rectangular in shape. On the flat surface presented to James, an image appeared.The neighborhood was run down. The yards, tiny and unkempt, were as likely to have garbage or discarded appliances as they were to have grass. The houses were run down and neglected, with holes in the siding, missing shingles, boarded up windows and most had at least one graffiti tag.The vehicles at the curb in front of the run down houses were no better for the most part, except for one. There was a Cadillac down the street from where James appeared to be standing, and it was gleaming softly in the light of the single, unbroken streetlight.Clustered around the Caddy were a half-dozen young men, there dark clothes and dark skin broken up only by a single flash of color on each, a bandanna that was various worn, draped, tied or otherwise displayed in some manner. This was obviously some sort of. "Hey, my boy, how's it going? Jonas, isn't it?" The voice from behind me was heavily accented, and something about it made me grit my teeth."Do I know you?" I asked, turning. The guy was taller than I am by a couple of inches, and looked like he'd stepped from the pages of a swimwear catalogue. He was wearing only a pair of loose khaki beach shorts and a linen shirt, open to the waist, showing off a physique that was impressive, even by the standards of Jane's party."No, but we have something in common, mon frere. I'm Jean, by the way - great party, huh?" I had no idea whether his accent was genuine or an affectation, but I suspected it was as fake as his tan."Something in common?" I sipped my drink and tried for an urbane chuckle. "I doubt that very much." Oh, but we do. You've been entertaining are gracious hostess lately, haven't you? Well, let's just say that I've - how do you put it, I've ploughed that particular field too. She's quite something, isn't she, this Lady Jane?" He.
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