Her hands, which she had raised in supplication when her mother screamed, were crusted with dried blood, bits of leaves and twigs.“What happened?”...said Bob. His image and that of her mother, both fuzzy, approached.“I broke my glasses,” she sobbed, pulling their twisted remains from her pocket. “And I dropped my bow.”She settled into a hiccupping cry, expecting her mother to scream at her again.“How did you get all bloody, Jennifer?” said Bobby’s urgent, strong voice. “Where are you hurt?”“My. For the uninitiated, it could take them a while to become untangled.As I maneuvered through the maze, Lindie kept silent but her ever present hand remained on my right thigh. When I got to the community’s exit I headed toward the interstate. Once we hit the main road, steering was not twisty-turny like development driving. I freed my right hand and soon it found its way to Lindie’s.Out of the blue, for no reason at all, I thought about my choice of cars. I started to tell Lindie about it, I. More

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