i wish my family would buy normal sliced white bread come the kind of went into miniature toasters, like every other family that i knew. my father had found a local baker's shop where they made baked loaves of heavy brown bread. he insisted on buying them. he said it tasted better, but in my mind it was nonsense. it tasted like almost nothing. that was the point. the driver of the police car got out, opened the passenger door, told me to get in. my father rode up front. but beside the driver. the police car went slowly down the lane. the whole lane was unpaved back there. just wide enough for one car at a time, a precipitous bumpy way with sticking up from it. the whole thing ratcheted by farm equipment and time. these kids, they think it's funny to steal a car. they will be locals. i'm just glad it was found so fast. that's what my father said. there was a faraway girl with hair so blonde and her cheeks very red when we get past. i held my peace of burnt toast on my lap. >> leeson said it's a long while back anywhere from here. we passed a band in the lane and over on the side we saw a