Chapter 14

           Hecoulddrivewell,whenhekeptthespeedreasonable,Ihadtoadmit.Likesomanythings,itseemedtobeeffortlesstohim.Hebarelylookedattheroad,yetthetiresneverdeviatedsomuchasacentimeterfromthecenterofthelane.Hedroveone-handed,holdingmyhandontheseat.Sometimeshegazedintothesettingsun,sometimesheglancedatme-myface,myhairblowingouttheopenwindow,ourhandstwinedtogether.

           Hehadturnedtheradiotoanoldiesstation,andhesangalongwithasongI’dneverheard.Hekneweveryline.

           "Youlikefiftiesmusic?"Iasked.

           "Musicinthefiftieswasgood.Muchbetterthanthesixties,ortheseventies,ugh!"Heshuddered."Theeightieswerebearable."

           "Areyouevergoingtotellmehowoldyouare?"Iasked,tentative,notwantingtoupsethisbuoyanthumor.

           "Doesitmattermuch?"Hissmile,tomyrelief,remainedunclouded.

           "No,butIstillwonder..."Igrimaced."There’snothinglikeanunsolvedmysterytokeepyouupatnight."

           "Iwonderifitwillupsetyou,"hereflectedtohimself.Hegazedintothesun;theminutespassed.

           "Tryme,"Ifinallysaid.

           Hesighed,andthenlookedintomyeyes,seemingtoforgettheroadcompletelyforatime.Whateverhesawtheremusthaveencouragedhim.Helookedintothesun-thelightofthesettingorbglitteredoffhisskininruby-tingedsparkles-andspoke.

           "IwasborninChicagoin1901."Hepausedandglancedatmefromthecornerofhiseyes.Myfacewascarefullyunsurprised,patientfortherest.Hesmiledatinysmileandcontinued.