Thirty-Nine Million Dollars and a Brown Folder on the Kitchen Table

I wiped the dry dirt off my hands onto my jeans.

“What about the transmission?” I asked.

Joe switched off the flashlight and put it in his front pocket.

“Fay, the transmission is bulletproof,” he said.

“I changed the fluid in April.

There are absolutely no problems.”

“Could anything break soon?” I asked.

“Only if you drive it into a ditch,” Joe said.