We can talk tomorrow maybe,” he said.“So what’s it about?” I asked. “Give me a hint.”“It’s about your future,” he said.“That’s a...boring subject,” I suggested.“Not so much as you might think,” he replied. “The rest can wait till we are together.”“Fair enough just call me when you get home one night this week around five or six,” I suggested. “I need to get my attention back on he road.” At that point I closed the conversation. A half hour later I pulled into the yard of a double wide mobile. ‘How do you feel now, Mr. Blue?’ ‘Huh? Where am I? Who are you? Who am I?’ ‘Great! He’s not depressed anymore. Next!’ Boy, am I so glad I wasn’t depressed back then. Kathy’s Mom allowed me up to her daughter’s room. I rapped lightly on her door. ‘Come in.’ ‘Hey, Kath, where’ve you been? I haven’t seen you at school.’ ‘I’m, uhm, not feeling well. I thought I’d lay low while considering colleges.’ There was always evidence of food in Kathy’s room. Before MacDonald’s, Burger King, and Dunkin. More

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