The next day, Hud was in a cab with a driver who spoke fluent Spanglish. He’d been hearing about the newsstand they called Bite of the Apple that everyone was talking about and asked the cabbie about it. “I mean, a newsstand is a newsstand, right? What could one newsstand have that would be so much better than another one, right? Kind of stupid if you ask me.”
“Oh, no, not stupid. From what I hear, the gringo is cleaning up,” the cabbie replied while battling jaywalkers and traffic tie-ups.
And then Hud thought back to what someone had said at work.
It covers up what looks like scars on his face.
Hud felt a jolt.
“Where is this newsstand?” he asked his office buddy.
“It sits on the corner of Times Square and a Hundred and Fifty-Seventh Street next to a bar called Jim’s. It’s a big sq
