He leaned over the wrought iron railing, looking out at the view, at the subtle lights of night. From this vantage point, Lorens could see much of Bea...pays, he could see the park and the town square, could trace the curves of the wide cobbled streets and the silhouette made by the houses and buildings against the sky. It was a charming town, he thought. Too bad he found life in it dissatisfying. Lorens pulled his hands through his hair again. Dissatisfied. Yes, that was what he was. That was. They joined us about twenty minutes later. Since Jessica had asked for a quiet evening, we all sat together, talking and listening to music, until it was time to head to bed.May 3, 1987, Chicago, Illinois“It’s about time for me to leave. How’s your race going, Tiger?”“It’s not,” I said. “They red flagged it about an hour ago because Bobby Allison tried to fly his car into the stands.”“What?”“It looked like he blew a tire coming down the front stretch and the car got airborne. It hit the catch. More

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