It was a cold and wet October night. The lofty breeze blew the rain in sheets across the windshield of George and Martha Pike’s 1974 Ford LTD.
“Watch your speed!” the old woman repeatedly told her husband of fifty-eight years.
“Yes, mom,” he repeatedly answered.
They had been to community bingo tonight. They didn’t go often anymore because of the drive into town, but tonight Martha had demanded to go. And George wasn’t one to argue with Martha.
“Almost there, mom,” George muttered in his frail little-old-man’s voice.
“Why I should hope so,” Martha replied, “We’ve been on the road for nearly half an hour. Watch your speed—it’s raining out!”
Within minutes they arrived at their small home in the country. They owned a little land—enough for the kids to play on, they used to say. They had four cats which kept the mice away, and they had a small Yorkshire Terrier named Ronald. The kids didn’t come around much anymore, so it was mostly just George and Martha.
George pulled into the garage and turned off the ignition.
“You scare me to death, the way you drive, George Pike!” Martha exclaimed.
George didn’t say anything.
© 1998 Bryan Patrick Deno
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