Free Deeper Water by Robert Whitlow Page B

at the pizza parlor. She doesn't get off until ten o'clock tonight. We've got plenty of time to take that beauty out for a spin. We could even go by and see her if you want to."
    I brushed past him and continued toward my door. "I'm leaving town in a few minutes."
    "Don't be in such a-," I heard before I shut my door.
    I leaned against the door for a few seconds to compose myself I thought about the silver car and imagined myself behind the wheel. I put my hand to my mouth and began to giggle. In a few seconds, I was doubled over with laughter. The idea that I would be driving such an expensive automobile was so outlandish that I didn't know what to do but laugh.
    I wished the twins were with me. They would scream with delight at the thought of riding in a convertible. The closest thing to a convertible they'd experienced was a quick trip around the yard in the back of Kyle's pickup truck.
    I finished packing my suitcase. When I came outside with my suitcase and garment bag, there was a small crowd of people standing around the car.
    "Are you the lawyer who lives here?" a teenage girl asked.
    "I'm a law student."
    "It looks like you've already won a big case," said an older man wearing a dirty T-shirt.
    I pushed the button on the key that popped open the trunk. The trunk was large enough to swallow my luggage. I got in the car and started the engine.
    "Buckle your seat belt," the girl called out.

    I smiled at her. "Always."
    I found the switch that raised the top and pressed it.
    "No!" the girl yelled. "Drive with the top down."
    The top closed over my head. After the expanse of the sky as my roof, the inside of the car seemed claustrophobic. I flipped the switch that returned the top to its boot. The boy waved when he saw me. I put the car in reverse.
    When I stepped on the gas, the car rocketed out of the parking space. The crowd jumped back. I slammed on the brakes and jerked to a stop. Greg Overton laughed and pointed at me. I felt my face flush. I put the car in drive and drove gingerly across the parking lot.
    As I crept along, the responsibility of operating such an expensive piece of machinery hit me. Even the slightest dent or ding would stand out like a broken leg. I stopped at the exit for the parking lot and waited until there wasn't a car in sight in either direction before pulling into the street.
    The route out of town took me near the law school. I stopped at a light and heard someone call my name.
    "Tammy Taylor! Is that you?"
    It was one of the law students on my basketball team. She was standing on the sidewalk, waiting to cross the street. I waved nonchalantly.
    "Hey, Donna."
    "What a beautiful ride! When did you get it?"
    "It's not mine. A man in Savannah rented it for me. I'm going down there for a weekend visit."
    The girl's green eyes grew even bigger. "I didn't know you had a boyfriend."
    "He's not a boyfriend. He's married."
    The light turned green, and I had to pull away before providing a more complete answer. In the rearview mirror I could see Donna staring after me. Our next game wasn't until Tuesday, and she would have plenty of time to broadcast erroneous information to others before I could provide the facts. I debated turning around, but when I looked again in my mirror, she was gone.

    As I drove along the city streets, people on the sidewalk and other drivers turned to stare. I was used to stares for dressing differently, but this was a new kind of stare. Two college-age boys yelled at me, and a balding man in a Corvette nodded my way when I pulled up next to him at a traffic light. It was a relief to leave the city behind.
    The route south from Athens led me through the heart of middle Georgia. I'd tied my hair in a ponytail that swirled in the breeze. I passed through several small communities. The most picturesque was Madison, a town spared the torch by Gen. William Tecumseh Sherman during his march to the sea after the destruction of Atlanta. The restored antebellum homes lining the