minnesota 1:1
In a restroom off the freeway I found a pair of tickets to a Twins game, so we went, buying an extra General Admission ticket to get Jack in, and he sat on my lap in the good seats. I had a feeling the owner of the seats was watching me with binoculars or a rifle sight from the bleachers. I couldn't watch the game for worrying. But the Twins won, hitting three homeruns. Maybe the guy took home a baseball. For a moment as we walked out, Jill got swept away by the tide of the crowd. I grabbed Jack by the wrist, probably hurting him, and searched for the girl. They were not my kids, but I couldn't lose one in a stadium. Jack was squirming, and at the same time, inscrutably, crying out for a hot dog and a beer. Why? I said. Your sister is gone. Cold beer, Jack hollered, six years old. I looked over at the refreshment stand, and Jill caught my eye and walked over. I'm hungry, she said. We'll get something on the road, I said. Red hots, said Jack, getcher juicy reeeed hots. I felt him. He had a fever, red hot indeed. I picked him up, still calling for baseball food, pulled Jill by the arm out to the car. That was fun, they said together as we drove off.
move on... 
other roads...
Back Up...
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