Though I felt rather foolish, being so white among all those bronzed bodies, I soon fit in with introductions all around. Later she gave me a gymnastic demonstration of her talents, and was proficient even at whirlwind baton-twirling. Tammy, a torrid tempest of that Bakersfield sun-bowl. We spent starry evenings in the park singing Lefty Frizzell songs, wondering about the world, worrying about her brother fighting communists in Korea, and the atomic bomb. I'd hate never to grow old.
Adolescents say dumb things sometimes.
Well, most times. I'll write you. Somehow, I never did. Tammy's probably a surgeon in Palmona now, following in her mother's career. I left Bakersfield a new person, but not yet a sensitive one.