He'd taught her better than this."I know, dad. I should've checked it over properly before I left on this hare-brained adventure," she muttered to the...imagined reproach. "Or at least carried spares. I know."She smiled sadly. He'd always drummed it into her to maintain her vehicle so she wouldn't get in a situation like this. Now he was gone, and she'd stuffed up."Oh, well," she continued her one-sided conversation. "No use crying over spilt milk, or overheated radiators. Guess I'll just have to. I was an altar boy at his funeral.”“Did you meet Elyse then?”“No. You know, I never asked. I honestly don’t remember much from that day other than Father Buschmiller and Jennie. Elyse, were you there?”“I was. We were ten. I don’t even remember seeing you. I vaguely remember two altar boys, but my memory of that day is Jennie crying. And the American flag. Just like at Nick’s interment.”“That was your second one!” I said. “I didn’t even think about it!”“Jim was buried about fifty feet from where. More

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