Running on Empty by Sandra Balzo Page B

Shoot the brute some / Burma-Shave."'
    'I love it!' AnnaLise was giggling. 'Tell me more.'
    'I wish I could,' Daisy said. 'I should have written them all down back then. Now,
     I've forgotten most of what your Grandma told me and when I'm gone...' She shrugged
     and left it there.
    'Maybe you should keep journals, like I do,' said AnnaLise. Then, more sternly, 'That
     way, when you're gone in another thirty or forty years , I'll be able to pass the family lore on to my kids.'
    'Best find a husband first.'
    'Well, that's not very forward-thinking of you,' AnnaLise said, glancing over. 'I
     don't need a husband to—'
    'Speaking of forward-thinking,' Daisy interrupted, 'watch where you're going. Here's
     the bridge.'
    The car bumped onto the wooden span, which to AnnaLise's surprise hadn't been updated
     like the entry. Luckily the distance from shore to island wasn't more than twenty
     feet. If you looked back as you reached the other side, you could just catch a glimpse
     of the Bradenham house through the trees.
    'And soon,' said Daisy.
    'Soon what?'
    'The husband and children. Have to regale them with our family stories before you
     forget what you remember of what I remember. Though God knows that's not much anymore.'
    AnnaLise threw her mother a startled look. Was Daisy aware of her memory blips? 'Everyone
     forgets things.'
    It was a backhanded way to approach the subject, and AnnaLise was rewarded by an equally
     vague answer. 'Perhaps.'
    Then her mother seemed to think for a moment. 'You mentioned journaling. I've been
     mulling this blogging thing on the Internet. Seems that way I'd have a record of what
     I did, of what happened to me. And you would, too.'
    Was Daisy considering a blog as a tool to train her memory? Or to remind herself when
     it failed?
    Or... both?
    'Sure, but remember blogging is for public consumption. Journaling, you can keep private.'
     Before AnnaLise could follow-up further, they wheeled into Hart's Landing. It was
     a little like that scene in The Wizard of Oz , when Dorothy steps out of the cyclone-blown house.
    'We're not in Sutherton anymore, Toto,' AnnaLise said out loud.
    'More like New England.' Daisy was trying to peer three-sixty out of the convertible's
     windows as they turned into a parking space. 'Federalist, maybe?'
    'Maybe.' AnnaLise turned off the engine and climbed out to look around. 'Red brick,
     white trim, blue-gray shutters. It's pretty, but not exactly High Country North Carolina.'
    Daisy joined her. 'Though I'm not sure what even that is anymore. Sutherton's getting to be like any other town. People come from all over
     and they bring their influences.'
    'Change,' said AnnaLise, disapproval audible even to her own ear. 'Bah humbug,' she
     threw in for good measure.
    'AnnaLise Marie Griggs. You sound more like eighty-two than twenty-eight.'
    'Just because I want things to stay the way I remember them?'
    'They can't. And even if they did, your memories would change.' Daisy was staring
     south across the lake, toward Main Street. 'Take it from me.'
    'The hell I will!'
    The words hadn't come from AnnaLise, but from around the corner. The voice sounded
     like Joy Tamarack's and it was joined by others, also raised. Thinking her friend
     might be in trouble. AnnaLise signaled Daisy to stay where she was.
    Hart's Landing consisted of three, long four-story buildings forming a squared horseshoe,
     the opening facing the mountains. As AnnaLise traced the sidewalk from the parking
     lot, the center of the landing came into view — a town square, of sorts, complete
     with gazebo bandstand. Though mostly still empty, the first floors appeared designated
     for retail, with residential apartments above.
    Three people were standing on the sidewalk, arguing. A lot of noise for such a small
     group. As AnnaLise got closer, she recognized Dickens Hart. He stood only about five
     foot nine and had to be in his late sixties, but he still had the looks and bearing
     that had attracted Joy