Chapter 25

“The girl I see is perfect for me.”

“What a sappy line that one is,” Wendy said. “It sounds like the opening song from a Broadway musical.”

“Broadway musical?” I questioned, “Not a Country and Western song.”

“Nope, the first line doesn’t mention Chevrolet, divorce or cheating. A country song would go like this, “Pink is just pain with a K.”” Wendy sang it through her nose. “Pank” is the way she pronounced pink. She rambled on about a high school dropout who drove her “Pank Shevolay” to the bar and ruined marriages just because she could. Her IQ was a couple of points bigger than her bra size ... which made the girl pretty smart. Notches on her bedpost and broken hearts scattered over the county. It was actually pretty good and the bass player from the band thought so, too, and offered her fifty bucks for the rights. While this was going on the Trooper’s sergeant showed up.

Thank the gods for good ears.

“Hey, troop.”

“Hey, Sarge.”

“What’s up?”

“See that fella over there?”

Since he was pointing at me, I had no doubt he was talking about me.

The Sergeant spun and looked.

Yup ... talking about me.

“He’s been talking to himself ... and he got smart with me,” said the trooper.

“Let’s go speak to him,” the NCO said.

“I can’t leave the door,” confessed the young officer.

“Wendy, what’s going on?” I asked.

“There,” said the cop. “He’s doing it again.”