My Father Tossed a Blue Savings Passbook into the Mud at Cedar Ridge
Why did she call the manager when she saw your name?
Why is the account locked?”
Gregory reached up and adjusted his left shirt cuff.
He smiled a very small, tight smile.
“You went to the bank,” Gregory said.
“You dragged that muddy piece of garbage all the way to a teller.”
“I did,” I said.
“They knew exactly what it was.”