“What did you do before the war, Fred?” asks Peggy.
“I was a fountain attendant,” replies Fred.
“A what?” asks Peggy.
“Soda jerk,” says Fred.
“Oh,” says Peggy.
“Surprised?” asks Fred.
“Yes, a little,” says Peggy. “I bet you mixed up a fine ice cream soda!”
“You’re darn right!” laughs Fred. “I was an expert behind that fountain. I used to toss a scoop of ice cream in the air, adjust for wind drift, velocity, and altitude, and wham! In the corner every time!”
“I figure that’s where I really learned to drop bombs,” says Fred.
“Hm – what do you think you’ll do now?” asks Peggy.
“I’m not going back to that drug store,” says Fred. “Somehow, I can’t figure myself getting excited over a root beer float. I don’t know just what I will do – – I’m going to take plenty of time looking around.”
“I guess after all the places you’ve been, Boone City looks pretty dreary to you,” says Peggy. Fred looks at her.
“Not from where I’m sitting right now,” says Fred.