Finally, Jake asked, “What’s the first story you remember?”“Let me think,” I said and sat there for a while thinking, “That would probably...be when I went up to Duluth, Minnesota...”It was a cold morning in Minneapolis and I was not interested in being in the Twin Cities at the moment. Don’t get me wrong, they were fine cities. Just boring. I wanted to be somewhere less populated and a little more friendly. I wanted to meet people and see things I hadn’t seen before. I mostly covered Minneapolis. ’ ‘No, I don’t think so,’ she replied. ‘Every time I paint something I manage to spill paint where I shouldn’t. In fact, my husband . . . his name is Arnold . . . well, he’s told me not to even pick up a paintbrush.’ Dutch smiled at her. ‘If you tell him about this, he’ll probably tell me the same thing.’ She returned his smile with a nervous grin. ‘No fear of that happening,’ she said and finally managed a smile, ‘he’s hardly ever around here anyways.’ Rising to his feet, Dutch looked over. More

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