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Click hereI rode the whole next day. Crossing Massachusetts, I recognized turn offs and rest areas where Nicky and I had rendezvoused with Nate. When we crossed into New York, it was the first time I had ever left New England. We rolled on, through sad tired cities, Rochester and Buffalo and Erie and Cleveland. My sandwiches were gone and I had hot dogs for supper in Toledo while I waited for my last transfer. It was after dark when we finally arrived at the bus station in Detroit.
I stepped off the bus and a dark, smiling man in a turban helped me retrieve my bags. There were more people milling about the bus terminal than lived in my hometown. I looked around for my grandmother. I had not seen her in at least ten years, but I was sure I would recognize her. I was nervous about becoming reacquainted with her, but anxious to find her. I searched through the crowd. There were faces of every shade and voices of many accents. I saw brown women in veils and black men in canary colored suits. There were punk kids in leather and soldiers in uniform. At last, I spotted my grandmother. She was barely five feet tall and didn't weight much more than one hundred pounds. Her hair was silver, but she had dyed a magenta streak above one ear. She was wearing a trench coat that scraped the ground and a pair of Converse All Stars. She was leaning against a pillar that was adorned with a No Smoking sign. There was a cigarette hanging out of the corner of her mouth.
I lugged my suitcases over to where she stood.
"Hi Grandma."
She looked up at me. "About time you got here, kiddo. Come on, let's go get a beer and your first taste of real pizza."
I knew that we would get along just fine.
A nice twist in the plot, Melissa’s mum is right, she needed to move and make a new start. Her grandmother appears to be just the right sort of eccentric to help her.
Wonderful story, but there is no “real pizza” in Detroit. It’s too dense focaccia with a tiny bit of sauce and cheese.
NY has their decent but soggy thin crust.
Chicago has delicate and crispy thin crust pizza and earth shattering deep dish pizza.
I also had some amazing pizza in Venice and Florence. Who knew the Italians could make pizza?!?
Detroit? I think they grease their rectangular pizza pans with 40W Valvoline.
Some trusted people or just one, a great start into a new beginning …. And a real pizza, stone oven pizza, yeah im in …… Melissa, wonderful and now im hoping you write her in to a lovely future
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