Highway 61 Read Online Free PDF Page A

that Nina was angry, that settled it. She almost never cursed.
    “See, this is why I called instead of telling you in person,” I said.
    “Dammit, McKenzie.”
    “Erica asked me to help her father. What was I supposed to say?”
    “You were supposed to say no.”
    “How could I do that?”
    “By reminding her that you’re my boyfriend, not hers.”
    “You keep saying that you don’t want to marry again, yet there’s a real chance that one day I could become Erica’s stepfather. Tell me again how I’m supposed to say no.”
    “Marriage, McKenzie? Do you really want to bring that up now?”
    “I’m just reminding you that I love you desperately and that there is nothing I wouldn’t do to make you happy, so if you want me to blow off Erica’s old man I’ll do it—just as long as you’re standing next to me when I tell her.”
    “I…”
    “Yes?”
    “I don’t think I want to do that.”
    “Me, neither.”
    “Just out of curiosity, what kind of trouble is Jason in?”
    “I’m kinda sorta sworn to secrecy on this one.”
    “Is that right?”
    “Kinda sorta.”
    “You’re not going to tell me?”
    “If you really want me to, I will.”
    Nina thought about it for a few beats.
    “No,” she said. “I don’t want you to break a promise for me.”
    “You’re the only one I would do it for.”
    “I appreciate that.”
    “I’ll give you a hint, though. When you two were married, did Jason go off on his own a lot, take trips by himself?”
    “Let me guess. This is about Jason wanting to be alone with the music.”
    “Something like that.”
    “The thing is, McKenzie, he was never alone for very long. It’s why we’re not married today. One of many reasons, actually.”
    “I figured. The truth is I’m not sure Jason’s in any real trouble. He’s paying a heavy fine for making some bad choices, which he richly deserves, by the way. If I’m right, though, he should be able to walk away from it.”
    “What are you going to do?”
    “Scoot up to Thunder Bay tomorrow, check out a few things, and come back the following day.”
    “While you’re doing this favor for Jason, would you mind doing one for me?”
    “Sure.”
    “Bring me some donuts.”

 
    THREE
    Early the next morning I drove north. I preferred Highway 61, the legendary roadway made famous in song and story, if only for the sights, but the road was interrupted by Interstate 35 between Wyoming, a small town just north of the Twin Cities, and Duluth. Once upon a time, Highway 61 was as important a thoroughfare as Route 66. It stretched from Thunder Bay in Canada nearly seventeen hundred miles south to the Orleans Parish Criminal Court Building in New Orleans, following the Mississippi River for most of the distance, and giving travelers an up-close and personal look at middle America. ’Course, that was before the interstate freeway system was built; before people decided they needed to get where they were going at the speed of light. Now Interstate 35 dominates. Drivers navigate it at seventy miles an hour in most places without seeing a thing worth mentioning. Certainly that was true of I-35 between the Cities and Duluth, just one long, dull ribbon of concrete decorated only by off-ramps and the obsequious outdoor advertising for Indian casinos.
    The view improved greatly once I-35 intersected Twenty-sixth Avenue East in Duluth. That’s where it became Minnesota Highway 61 again and veered northeast. Suddenly there was plenty to see, mostly the rugged northern shoreline of Lake Superior, but also a stunning succession of lush forests, waterfalls, lighthouses, resorts, and small, curious towns. Unfortunately, somewhere between the Twin Cities and Duluth I had driven from fall into bleak winter. The gale-swept waves of Lake Superior began to break against the shore with an almost frightening ferocity. The trees had lost most of their leaves, becoming little more than gray skeletons amid a smattering of dull green fir trees,