it's a little isolated, is all.
well, maybe not that isolated. pretty isolated, though.
chinook high.
what gives?
oh, boy. now we're in for it -- he thinks he's some kind of big hunter.
that was with the car. they all laugh.
you'll be in miss graham's class?
she's okay. she's pretty.
you remind me of that boy in the fairy tale who had to spend twenty years sifting sand to find a golden needle. remember that one? toby doesn't answer. the two girls move away. toby sighs, and picks up another chestnut. 55 g) toby, keeping an eye on the door to make 55 sure he's unobserved, reaches under the mattress of skipper's bed and pulls out several billfold-sized black and white pornographic photographs. the hair styles of the women in them are decades old. toby takes the photographs into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
oh, daddy!
happy wedding breakfast! caroline's eyes are red and swollen. dwight turns on a radio, sips his coffee, and chats with norma. toby gives norma's rear-end an appreciative glance, then comes up behind caroline, speaking sotto voce:
what d'ya think? i think i look like a fool. who cares? six weeks to graduation, and california, here i come! norma snaps her fingers and goes back to her bedroom.