It rained toads the day the White Council came to town. I got out of the Blue Beetle, my beat up old Volkswagen bug, and squinted against the midsummer sunlight. Lake Meadow Park lies a bit south of Chicago's Loop, a long sprint from Lake Michigan's shores. Even in the heat like we'd had lately, the park would normally be crowded with people. Today it was deserted but for an old lady with a shopping car and a long coat, tottering around the park. It wasn't yet noon and my sweats and T-shirt were too hot for the weather.
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