“Well?” she asked as my face reddened and my eyes darted toward my thankfully oblivious father.I was at a loss for words. Mom reached out to cup m... chin in her hand.“You look tired. Didn’t you sleep well last night?”Again, I didn’t know what to say, surprised by her allusion to last night’s activies.Mom’s smile broadened. “I think you should have a nap this afternoon if you’re going to come to the theater with us tonight. What do you think, Cliff?”“What?” my father looked up, not really aware. ‘Yes, Pops. We swept them last week in Springfield. I don’t see how they can beat us in our home.’ He laughed and nodded quickly. ‘No way in Hell are the Rifles going to beat us,’ he said before noticing a small boy shyly looking at him, a dollar bill tightly held in his small hand. ‘What can I do for you, sir?’ Pops asked in that perfect grandfather tone which made the kid noticeably relax. ‘I’d like a program,’ he whispered. I smiled and returned to my journey. ‘Where,’ I mumbled to myself,. More

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