20Scratch came to, and realized he was in the passenger seat side of his car. Betty was driving. The sun was going down and the cool wind from his car sailing down the highway had brought Scratch out of a forced sleep. He retrieved the Bennies from his coat pocket and popped the top.
“You sure you need more of those?” Betty asked.
“Don't tell me what I need,” Scratch said.
“Look, I'm just concerned…”
“Don't tell me what to do!”
“OK, OK, Allan,” Betty sighed. “Don't get upset.”
“Stop calling me Allan,” Scratch commanded, his voice severe, threatening.
“That's your name,” Betty croaked. A nervousness came over her.
“Not anymore,” Scratch said. “That's not who I am. I'm not Allan Williams, you hear me?”
“Yes,” Betty replied after a long delay. She tried to touch his knee. Scratch jer
