“I think she’s home.”Ethan stopped to read the name on the light post in the yard. It read ‘Murphy’s’. It couldn’t be, Ethan said to him...elf. Not the Mayor’s house.Mrs. Turner went right up to the front door and pushed the doorbell. By the time Ethan had sauntered up to the covered front porch, the front door was opening. On the other side of the screen door was Colleen Murphy, the Mayor’s wife, smiling at her friend, Mrs. Turner. Then she saw Ethan coming up the sidewalk and he could tell from. “No, no! Not that old fart, I mean ‘The Boss’ ... You know Johnny Mellow?” They still looked a little lost, or like I had lost my mind, and as I reviewed the last few moments of conversation, I really couldn’t blame them. “Okay, let me try this again, from the top,” and I laughed at the looks I was getting from both. “I used to ride professionally, right?” and they both nodded like they were humoring me. “I rode for an American team and for an American racer in Europe, okay? Well, everyone. More

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