But those were all fakes. They didn't understand. The calendars haveall got to be local calendars. You know, like the insurance guy givesyou a calendar and the car dealer and the real estate guy and thefuneral home. They give you one every year, and you put them all upbecause they're your friends and your customers and you hope they dogood business."

"You got a car dealer in Harmony?"

"Went out of business thirty years ago. Used to deal inStudebakers, but he hung on with Buicks until the big dealers up in thetri-cities underpriced him to death. No, I don't get his calendaranymore, but we got two funeral homes so maybe that makes up for it."

Rainie almost made a remark about this being the kind of townwhere nobody goes anywhere, they just stay home and die, but thenshe decided that maybe she liked this old lady and maybe she'd stayhere for a couple of days, so she held her tongue.

The old lady smiled a twisted old smile. "You didn't say it, but Iknow you thought it."

"What?" asked Rainie, feeling guilty.

"Some joke about how people don't need cars here, cause theyaren't going anywhere until they die."

"I want the job," said Rainie.

"I like your style," said the old lady. "I'm Minnie Wilcox, and Ican hardly believe that anybody in this day and age named their littlegirl Ida, but I had a good friend named Ida when I was a girl and Ihope you don't mind if I forget sometimes and call you Idie like Ialways did her."

"Don't mind a bit," said Rainie. "And nobody in this day and agedoes name their daughter Ida. I wasn't named in this day and age."

"Oh, right, you're probably just pushing forty and starting to feelold. Well, I hope I never hear a single word about it from you becauseI'm right on the seventy line, which to my mind is about the same asdriving on empty, the engine's still running but you know it'll sputter