We’ve got time to kill

With half of his interest piqued by curiosity and the other half by the prospect of spending a ten and a half hour flight in the company of this woman, Manny moved the conversation forward with,

“Who are you?”

“Well, I’ve lived in Salt Lake City since we moved from New Jersey to Utah when I was twelve. We are Jewish but we couldn’t find or afford a Hebrew school so I’m definitely a product of the public school system. I guess I’ve been in and out of school most of my life, so far. Right now I’m trying to finish a PHD at BYU. The course work is done but I need to finish a dissertation to complete the degree.”

“ Wow! That’s interesting. Please go on, Selma or should I call you Doctor? “

“ No. It’s not official yet. Besides, that would be more pretentious than Emmanuel, Manny. Anyway, my Dad bought a bar and thanks to a never-ending supply of drinking customers, the business thrived and was still going boxcars, when he and my Mom both passed away, last year.”

“ I’m sorry.”

“ No, again. . . . They were both old and tired and that was a lot better than being old, tired and sick. Since I’m neither a drinker nor a business sort of person, when the smoke cleared from their cremation, I had the manager at Zion Bank help me take care of the outstanding debts, sell the bar, liquidate the balance and set up a Trust Fund. We decided to call it the Dead Sheep Trust in honor of my folks labor for all those years. There’s not too much left now, but there was enough to finance this trip and get me back to home.”

At this, Selma noticed Manny’s eyes and gaze were glazing over. Realizing this story was a lot more than he had bargained for she decided to change the subject.

“ Who are you? ”

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