Chapter 114: What Sweet Hell is This?

What sweet hell is this? Today, the first time this week I've felt comfortable walking into Ryland's condo and I'm greeted with this? I wasn't prepared for this.

"Hey." The man in question raises one hand to wave at me while I stand at the end of his hallway gaping. He's positioned between me and the door in a bright orange kayak wearing a life vest and using a matching orange oar to fake paddle on his hardwood floors.

Ryland's gone insane. Do I laugh, cry, or call an institution for him?

Back to his rowing, he leans forward in the seat and paddles with short quick strokes. Fake waves? Rapids?

"What are you doing, Ryland?"

My question interrupts his stroke and he straightens, slowing his paddle motion. "Practicing my rowing," he answers over a shrug like I'm weird for asking and this is a normal everyday occurrence around here. Hell, maybe it is.

"Where are you planning to kayak in San Francisco?"

This time he puts the oar down on the side of his vessel. "The bay," he ans