My Father Tossed a Blue Savings Passbook into the Mud at Cedar Ridge

That’s how Beatrice beat him the first time.”

“Beat him at what?” I asked.

Arthur put his glasses back on.

“Let me get the file first,” he said.

I walked out of the strip mall and got into my Buick.

The gas gauge hovered just a hair above empty.

My bank account now held exactly three dollars and fourteen cents.

I turned the key.