I needn’t have worried about my hair. Daniel complimented it, made a joke about the blue stripe – “Getting full sleeves of tattoos next, Ms. Beckett?” – and then began telling me all the details about the Volvo that had quit running at 120 miles. “Blown fuse, I think, but I have to take the entire back end apart and have a special tool to get at it . . .” I glazed over at that point and started thinking about those round fuses that I’d had in a couple of the apartments I’d lived in. That led me to think about the glass insulators that used to be on power lines and how Woody had dozens of them in his workshop. And that made me think about the drives my parents used to take when I was a kid and how I’d watch the power lines for miles.
Eventually, my train of thought wound back around to the
