The Writer's Life 10/17 - Remembrance

Here's an excerpt I recently added to Present and Past, the novel I plan to self-publish in January. It's about lifelong friends who are very different from each other. They embark on a cross-country car trip and, along the way, have long conversations:
“She was older than us. She had tits already. I don’t think I ever saw her any place but in school. Richie Finn was always teasing her.”
“Tall kid from the Avenue?”
“Right.” Freddie chuckled. “One Saturday in winter I was at the Benson for the matinée when he comes strolling down an aisle, swinging his arms, singing: ‘Oh, he’s the son of Robin Hood ‘cause he’s the son of Robin Hood,’ or some such nonsense.”
“Why was he singin’ that?”
“That was one of the flicks in the double feature. I was so impressed by how bold he was. I could never do something like that.”
Tony made a face. “Why would you wanna?”
“It was silly, harmless kid stuff. The last time I saw him was during our high school English regents’ exam. He walked out after fifteen minutes. It took me almost two hours to finish. I never found out if he was just fed up with school or if he had the answer key. I wonder if he went into acting. He seemed a natural for it.”
Tony shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe he got it in ‘nam.”
Freddie froze. “Wow – you just blew my mind.”
“You got a lotta junk floatin’ around in your head.”
“Junk? These are parts of my life, parts of the fantastic voyage we’re all on – how could I not love them?”
“Fantastic,” Tony sneered. “How d’you know you’re even rememberin’ ‘em right after all this time? My family’s always arguin’ like idiots about how things went down.”
“The memories may not be exact, but the essence is right on. I know what you mean, though. Whenever I watch a scene from a movie I think I have down pat, it’s always a little different than I remember.”

It was a second straight sandwich-type session at the floating book shop, two sales immediately, then three while I was packing up. My thanks to the woman who bought two young adult novels, one of which was Once Upon the End by James Riley; to the woman who bought two Danielle Steel romances translated into Russian; to the young man who bought a cook book; to the one who purchased The Darkest Evening of the Year by Dean Koontz; and the two young ladies who bought Asi Es Venezuela 2000, a huge pictorial on their native country. Each gave me a high five before departing. Sadly, much has happened since then to destroy the economy of that once prosperous, oil-rich nation. Although it was a beautiful day, it was cold under the scaffold. I walked to the corner repeatedly to warm myself in the sunshine.
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