“Marnie,” he said suddenly, reaching across the open space between our seats in the VW bus, and grabbing my hand. “Marnie, what is that?” For a second I was actually scared. I looked around fearfully and then I burst out laughing. “Don’t be afraid, son,” I said robustly. “It’s called a stoplight. I know you’ve never seen anything like it before, but it isn’t vicious.” I kept hanging onto his hand. What do you know, Mother was right that handholding would be step one! “I wasn’t sure,” said Lucas. “The way it was blinking at me, way up on that wire, I thought it might leap, or attack us, or something.” Several cars behind us honked. “The natives are restless,” I said. “Perhaps I should move on, then.” The light had been green for some time. “I usually require two hands to drive and change gears, Marnie.” I blushed, dropping his right hand. Lucas found a space, in a parking lot behind a row of stores. We hopped out, locked up the bus, and stood marveling at the handsome asphalt.
