We talked like adult men who were acquaintances, never intending to be friends. I sat positioned behind the wheel of my fancy car, slowly driving, being cautious. He hung on to anything he could in the passenger seat, probably fearing for his life. To ease his pain, realizing that he knew that I lacked any skills whatsoever of driving on an icy road next to the lake, I asked him, “Did you grow up in these parts? I don’t remember seeing you in my childhood. I spent a lot of time at my aunt’s cottage and you weren’t around.”
“I’m from Ohio. The Cleveland area.”
“How’d you end up in Winter Mist Village?”
“My job. Lewis-Clark Contractors pays me well. I can’t make the money I do here as an environmental specialist in Cleveland. Sometimes, you have to go where the job is to make a living.” S
