On the bus I start thinking about Sally, probably because she and I used to ride the bus to Medford Square on weekends when we were in college. Medford Square is where we transferred to the Winchester bus.
A couple of years ago our families spent the Christmas week together at the Narrows. I was in my third year of teaching. Herrick was working in the Office of the General Counsel at CIA. Sally had finished her master’s degree the summer before. She was going to Africa with the Peace Corps in March. Bradley was there, also. He had just come from California, from his camp with the migrant workers, we thought, although no one was inclined to ask him.
One afternoon a group of us sat in the living room in front of the fireplace looking at old photo albums.
“Oh, will you look at this,” my mo
