Story 13-B

I’d drive from Winfield, Illinois to Geneva,

a bit to the west, in my first car, a Chevy

Corvair death trap (the engine actually fell 

out while I was driving once) to see my High

School friend, Katie whose family was high 

falutin’, but I was ok because my dad was 

a well known Chicago lawyer. Katie was in 

New York City once and guy at a corner 

grabbed  her elbow and said “I think we can 

make this  light.” It was Johnny Carson. I’d 

go there  sometimes at night to get away 

from my  family. I’d watch Johnny Carson 

on T.V. with Katie and her mom, who bore 

a striking resemblance to a Pekinese. I went 

to her house for a couple of brunches. Her 

dad was there. He sold insurance for race 

horses, and, (I don’t  know why because I 

seldom spoke to adults… maybe it was 

because he sold insurance for race horses) 

I went up to him and said something like: 

“So, how’s business?” or  something equally 

dumb. He huffed and walked away. When 

the engine fell out of the Corvair, I hid behind 

a tree until the people that came to tow it 

stopped laughing.