‘Main thing?’ ‘C’mon, man, you know what I’m talking about. You were going to resolve a certain—uh—physical deficiency over the summer.�...� Of course Jim knew what the ‘main thing’ was. He and Rich had talked about it over a few beers many-a-time before they parted for their summer jobs. Jim had been dreading the question as he drove the Rustmobile from his parents’ home to the apartment overlooking the University town that day. He didn’t think it would come up so soon, although he should have. She looked around the small room and gathered her little gold plated hairbrush and mirror. She carefully placed them inside the bag. She took the beautiful night gown her auntie made, out of the bureau drawer and carefully folded it and tucked it too inside along with her few blouses and skirts along with her bottle of perfume, a shawl and another pair of sandals, also a small brass crucifix from her grandmother's coffin and her rosary beads. It all went in. Oh, and also her little wooden box. More

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