was fanatic about the car. He changed the oil about once a
month. Jesus. It was a great old car though; we used it all through
graduate school. It was still running when we came out to the west
coast. Patrick's father loved it. We left it with him." There was a
second burst of shrill cries; arms held high moved in the other
direction. Mustangs even, 1-1.

"See," Cree said. "Are you in touch with Martin?"

"We talk on the phone every once in a while. He still lives in
Woodstock; he's got a recording business. We try to visit every couple
of years, but you know how it is. Time keeps flying by."

"Scary," Cree said.

"Remember that guy, Wendell? He was a hunk."

"He was."

"Did he ever show up again?"

"Not while I was there," Cree said. "He nearly killed Sam; he had to
disappear. He just did get away."

"Was it the FBI or the CIA that Sam was working for?"

"Not sure."

"The bad old, good old days," Willow said.

"Remember Parker?"

"Yeah, Patrick's boss."

"He took off. Left Hildy and the kids for another woman. Sooner or
later, just about everyone split up. What's your secret?"

"The dotted line painted down the middle of the house," Willow said.
"Patrick needs a visa to enter the kitchen."

The Mustangs were pushed into their end of the field. A fine drizzle
began to fall. The two watched, cheeks glowing, as their sons fought
back.

"We were talking about Woodstock last night, actually," Willow said.
"Patrick's landlady left him a treasure chest when she died. She didn't
really leave it to him; she didn't want her family to get it. Patrick
says it was her last wish. We've kept it with us ever since. He won't
open it."

"Isn't it driving you crazy?"

"I'm dying to know what's in it. He won't open it, though. He says it's
ours to respect and to keep private. He says he knows what's in it
anyway."

"What?"

"True love."

Cree's eyes went back to the struggle on the field. "Hang on to it,
Baby," she said.

***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOE BURKE'S LAST STAND***

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