
It was a long and cold walk home. January in ’64 was not kind to Listerville, and John Korde just wanted to get back to a warm place and not have to think about his grades. Ms. Laker said that he was doing better with math (You just need to focus, young man), but his marks were still in the toilet and his dad was not shy about telling him so (What is wrong with you, young man?). He pulled his knapsack closer to him as the wind picked up and the snow refused to stop.
The downtown core was pretty quiet. It would be for a Sunday night, he thought, staring down that straight icy line that would take him the four blocks to his home. Ms. Laker… Sad old lady, he thought. She only had the kids from the local schools to deal with, nothing else. She probably didn’t even know. She did not have…them.
Ah, it wasn't too late.
Al’s Electronics… Their display set was still on and John heard the noise before he saw them, that great sound warm and inviting, having nothing to do with math, grades, his dad, or any of the other things adults thought were important…
“And when I touch you, I feel happy…inside…”
John Korde, alone on an empty street in a quiet town, danced and laughed in the snow, forgetting about algebra and how late it was as four young men led him home in the cold.



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