The Master of Happy Endings by Jack Hodgins

resist and old enough to see this as just as endearing as it was foolish. “One day you’ll remember today and your face will burn with embarrassment. Now take my attendance sheet to the office—it will give you time to think about what you just did.”
    He’d been only vaguely aware of rejoining the highway, the sprawling high school left behind. Mrs. Montana and her platinum Jaguar had not only achieved the posted speed limit but continued to accelerate in order to catch up to a large freight truck with “ ON THE MOVE WITH JOEY KEUVE ” announced across its rear. An additional surge of speed sent them flying past Joey Keuve, who was less aggressively “on the move” than Mrs. Montana. With Joey Keuve somewhere behind them, she informed him that something had recently come up that could lead to a change of plans. “But I will leave that to Travis to explain when we get there.”
    Though he’d become almost unconscious of his throbbing forehead, “a change of plans” gave it fierce new life. A change of plans had not been mentioned at the ferry dock or in the drop-in clinic. “You waited to tell me now ?”
    She laughed, her hand dismissing an old man’s alarm. “An opportunity of a lifetime is how Travis will put it. For him, that is. I don’t presume to know how it will look to you.”
    She would not tell him more. It would be up to Travis himself to explain.
    An “opportunity of a lifetime” could be anything—a visit to the manned space station. He could be asked to chaperone a weekend camping trip with fifteen adolescents of both sexes, their vehicles loaded down with booze, their radios blaring long after midnight—bears raiding the tents, cougars dropping onto necks, and the police charging him with the corrupting of minors. Had he left his island for an encounter with the complex and confusing ethics of modern juvenile sex?
    â€œI think,” he said, as calmly as he knew how, “I would like you to stop.”
    â€œ Here ? I can’t stop here .”
    â€œThere is a wide enough shoulder. Unless you’d rather I threw myself out.”
    She laughed, but did not slow down. “I’m sure there’ll be a public washroom ahead somewhere, if that is what you need.”
    â€œI don’t need a washroom, Mrs. Montana. What I’m suggesting is that I can find my own way back to the ferry. I’ve hitchhiked before. I can do it again.”
    â€œDon’t be foolish!” Her hand dismissed the foolish one’s request. “Anyway, hitchhiking’s illegal on this highway.”
    â€œAn old man with a bandage on his forehead will not have long to wait. An accident victim, they will think.”
    She drove on without slowing. Joey Keuve would not be given the opportunity to catch up. “For heaven’s sake, why would you go back now?”
    â€œBecause I’ve obviously made a mistake. You mentioned a change of plans.”
    â€œOh that !” She seemed genuinely relieved. Her voice took on a reasonable tone. “Please trust me, Mr. Thorstad. You’ll see a great improvement over what you’d expected. A privilege, really.”
    Since she obviously had no intention of stopping the car and he was not about to throw himself out onto the gravel shoulder at this speed, he folded his arms in a manner that suggested, if she should notice, resignation without pleasure.
    While a world of strip malls and used-car lots and occasional stretches of lumber continued to flash by in a blur, he made an attempt to think of compensations. It was a city he was going to, with a university that would sponsor visiting speakers. Neighbourhood libraries could be within walking distance. There was bound to be a symphony orchestra, and a concert hall, an opera company as well. He would be living in a family home with comforts that were taken for granted by city people. And, most important, he