BY LAURA BANDY
We’re headed downstate and Natalie’s driving, she insisted, a Chicago girl who’s driven across Paris, Tokyo, the left side of London streets like a pro, so she can handle this, and I wake from a doze to find us weaving on my country road, corn high on either side and Natalie gabbling to herself, “It’s so quiet and there’s no light but moon and nothing’s moving and who knows?