a vague memory, like a flash. i am eleven. you want me to give you my allowance money because you don't have any, because you don't have enough gas money to drive home, or buy a six-pack, it doesn't really matter what it was for. i say no and you throw a book at me. the book is "lucky" by jackie collins. i remember because i was more embarrassed to be caught reading that than i was stunned that you threw it at me.