Ride 1F

“So how old’s the car?” Double-J thought a moment. “Ten years.”

“That’s how old my dad’s car is!” Double-J had trouble comprehending the excitement in Butch’s voice. “But it doesn’t look like this, yours is in a lot better shape.”

“Thanks. I work on it myself, at the shop I work at.”

“You’ve got a job?”

“Yeah. Gotta do something valuable with my time.”

“But don’t you go to school too?”

Double-J turned quickly to Butch, flashing the most sardonic smile he could muster. “Like I said — gotta do something valuable with my time.”

“Oh.” The engine hummed as the car sped past the first stoplight. “Oh. I get it. I know what you mean. My dad, he keeps telling me I need to get my grades up, but between you and me, I don’t get it.”

“What’s your dad’s name?” There were several Goodman families in Bark Bay.

“Josh. Joshua Goodman.”

Double-J leaned forward, his eyes wide in surprise yet still focused on the headlight-splashed road in front of his car. “Reverend Goodman?”

“Yessir. First Baptist Church.”

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