Then a funny feeling overwhelmed her. It must have been something aboutthe music, the time, the place and the surging waves of estrogen washingover it... Maybe it was the electricity of the opening chords of "Twist andShout." Before she knew it, her mouth was open, and she was screaming too.And crying. And she didn't stop until the Beatles left the stage thirty-five minutes later.As they began walking toward the exit, Patricia looked squarely at Claireand said, "Really, Mother. Sometimes you are. It was not grungy. The sheets on the mattress were clean. The refrigerator was clean and well-stocked. The storage unit under the bed was not overrun with junk, but was, indeed, available for storage.Seeing the girl's intense interest, I showed her around the unit. "Sleep here," I said again. "I will not bother you. You should go to sleep now, because it is getting late and the men will be here early to unload the trailer. Then, it will be reloaded and I will leave here, early. Think about what. More

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