”But there on the screen, not yet in sight, there’s a cluster of thunderstorms, angry orange and yellow on the display.“What do you think?” I asked.“I think we’re diverting to the west. There’s about thirty miles between that cluster and this other one. That’s a pretty big eye of a needle.”Neat how a few finger flicks on the display and we throw in a new waypoint on our route. The bug on the screen that represents our progress slides right through that gap. There are others.“Ain’t gonna be the optimum path, Doodles,” he says.‘Doodles’ because one day I gave him a sketch of an idea in a meeting. “What’s this doodle?” he popped to a peal of giggles and snickers.“We can still make our mid-point stop. And all this weather stuff, I’m thinking full tanks are a big plus.”“Besides,” he laughed, “If we get grounded and get a room, your dad won’t have as far to drive to shoot me.”“He wouldn’t do that. And if he DID show up, I’d be sitting in my room, chastely plopped on my bed, chatting with. She stood five foot three, with a slender build but with a little bit of flab around her midsection. She had straight stringy brown hair that came about half way down her D-cup breasts.We’d not had much exposure to our aunt, and why she even agreed to take us in was beyond me; but there we were standing at the door of her tiny, run-down house. I knocked and moments later the door jerked open and we were staring face-to-face with our new caretaker. With a disdainful sneer she ordered us into the house quickly adding that we not say one damn word. Dinner that night consisted of canned spaghetti that we had to share. We slept on pallets on the living room floor, which we were required to have put away before she got up in the morning. Not that it was a problem because she usually didn’t get up until around eleven. Mornings usually consisted of cold cereal accompanied with cartoons ,until our aunt got up and changed the TV to watch trashy talk shows.This went on for a few weeks and then.
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