Simpson's, once again ringing the bell. He handed her the keys when she answered the door."You don't like the car then?" Mrs. Simpson asked."No ma'am,...I mean yes ma'am. I really like it. Is it your car ma'am?" The car belonged to my son Teddy. He bought it new in '69 but joined the Army shortly afterwards and didn't get a chance to drive it much." Rollie could see the pain in the old lady's eyes as she added, "Teddy was killed in Viet Nam in '73. The car has been sitting in the garage ever. I worked at the exercise bike until I couldn't breathe. While I rested, slumping on the handlebars and huffing and sweating, Fiore strode to me, his hands on his hips. He wore his perpetual, taunting grin."At first you couldn't do enough," he said. "Now you try to do too much! You can't make up for missing yesterday by overworking today! You can't go back, my friend. Only ahead. Never try to go back. Now, rest. And begin again!"I rested. But then I worked myself to exhaustion again, feeling. More

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