Jimmy replied with the reserved tone of a man long accustomed to answering politely to highly personal questions. “So what you’re telling me, Daniel, is that if your students are so openly curious about how a Jew from Chicago wound up here in Bark Bay — they’ll be even more curious about how a black man from New Orleans came here as well.”
“Skokie, actually. But yes, I’d expect them to be very curious, indeed.”
“All right all right.” Jimmy reached down for his jacket, a thin trench coat that looked inadequate for the cold December evening outside. “I can always tell them the truth, about why I came up north.”
Coach Dan raised his eyebrows. “What’s that?”
Jimmy shrugged. “Bugs. I hate bugs.”
Coach Dan studied Jimmy’s expression a long moment, and upon realizing this man who was now certainly his friend was not in the least joking, broke into a wide grin, followed by a loud laugh in which his friend soon joined.
End of seventh coaching session