“Sorry, that’s me.” He fished out his cellphone, holding it to his ear. “Hello?”“Is this Albert Collins?” a voice he didn’t recognize ...sked. Al was instantly on guard, as no one familiar with him would call him by his full name.“Yes it is. Who is this?”“My name is Philippe Moritz. I’m a reporter for the Daily Tribune. I spoke with your mother earlier.”“My mother? I can’t picture her calling you.”“Don’t worry, she didn’t. I heard about your story from your neighbor and I contacted her to get. "I think it overheated." You call for a tow?" I don't have a cell phone."Who didn't have a cell phone, he wondered. A young preteen girl sat in the brown grass beside the car staring at him. Both the mother and daughter had the same harried look, as if life had given them its worst."Let me take a look," he said. A quick glance at the tired engine and he knew it was terminal. He could see a dark puddle of oil under the block. "I'm going to grab my phone. Is there somebody you want to call?" My. More

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