Fascination with fire. While I stacked wood on top of the car to take home, Chris roasted sausages, evoking juices, gathering ashes, blackening, stirring, trying, taunting--playing with fire. The old Dodge: bought, well-used, from brother Erv who, exasperated with it, was ready to trade it away for an allowance of twenty-five dollars. Against his kindly advice, I bought it from him at the trade-in price and to his everlasting annoyance drove it three more years. Then sold it for sixty-nine dollars, cash! It had a nifty radio and a visor over the windshield.