The President of the bank sighs and tells me, “Normally I would not do business with you, Gary.  However, several people in North Hills work in your service station.  If I were to close down your service station, the people who work in the station would lose their jobs and I would have to foreclose on several homes that aren't worth the mortgage balance.  Can you run the service station?”

I laugh, “My old man has been showing up for work drunk, ever since my mother ran off.  I have been running the station, by myself, for the last couple of months.  In fact, I had to have the old man put me on the service station bank account, so that I could sign checks, on delivery, for gas, oil, supplies, that sort of thing.  Yeah, I can run the service station.”

The President of the bank nods yes and tells me, “Yes, I know.  Gary, do you realize that your father tried to close out the service station account?”

“Not until your people told me about it.”

The President of the bank looks hard at me and asks me, “How will you live, now that your father is gone?”

“If you'll let me, the same way I've been living for the past several months.  I go to school in the morning and then run the gas station evenings.  I have employees who help me with the day to day work, but none of the employees have any idea of how to run a service station.  I go to the station, after I get out of school and work there, including doing my homework there.  Hell, I cook a big meal in the slow cooker, overnight, and then I eat it in three parts, breakfast before school, lunch at the station, right after school and supper, at the station, in the evening.”

The president of the bank says, “It doesn't sound like much of a life for you, but the service station wouldn't bring in any real cash if you tried to sell it.  I can get you declared an emancipated minor and then the bank can legally continue to deal with you.”

Hell, I have a choice, I can play ball with the bank or I can starve to death.  I decide to play ball with the bank.

I get to be an emancipated minor and my life then consists of school, work and then sleep, when I can.  I'm a social zero at school, but at least I get to eat and sleep under a roof.

Another social zero at school is Karen.  Karen lives with her mother, not too far from where I live.  Karen and her mother run a little diner, just across the highway from my service station.  Karen works after school and sometimes in the evenings.  Karen's mother is sick and Karen begins to work more hours, to keep the diner open and a little money coming in, so that they can run their household.

Sometimes, Karen and I get off work at the same time and we then walk home together.

One night Karen tells me, “Gary, my mother is really sick.  I don't think that she's gonna make it.  Sometimes I feel like just giving up, but we gotta make some money at the diner to live on.  I'm so depressed.”

On impulse, I hold out my hands to Karen and say, “Dance with me!”

Neither Karen or I really know how to dance, but we hold hands and kind of whirl around in the light under a street light.  Karen then pulls away and I bow to her.  Karen turns and runs from me.

A couple of nights later, I again meet Karen on the way home and she asks me, “Gary, why did you do that?”

“Ask you to dance with me?  Karen, you're a good looking girl.  Every guy wants to dance with a good looking girl.”

Karen starts to cry and I ask, “What's the matter?”  Karen says, “Except for you, everyone else treats me like trash.  Okay, I don't have all the clothes that some of the other girls have, but that doesn't mean that I'm trash.”

“The other kids, they have parents to support them.  They got clothes, they got a home for free, they got spending money.  You and me, we gotta work just to eat, to survive.  If I had time and money, I'd take you to a real dance.  Dance with me.”

We hold hands and again kind of whirl around in the light under a street light, this time we also reverse and whirl around the other way.  Karen then pulls away and I bow.  Karen curtsies and then walks away from me, maybe too overcome by emotion to talk.

One day, I get a visit from the oil company that supplies my station's gas and oil.  The guy tells me, “They gonna put a major highway upgrade through, somewhere in the area.  The upgrade might be here.”

I reply, “A major highway upgrade would mean that I'd have to upgrade my station in a big way.  I got an in at the local bank, but I don't know how much money I could get on a loan.”

The oil company guy says, “If it comes to that, we can work something out.”

The next few days, there's a survey crew working the area,  The survey guys stop at my station for gas.  They want to do some sort of survey thing through my property.

I ask the guys, “Why do you want to survey across my property?”

The head of the survey team says, “If they should decide to upgrade the highway, could be that they'll need an, oh, access road.”

I tell the guy, “Okay, you can survey across my property, as long as you don't interfere with my customers.”

The survey guys do what they do and they even put in survey stakes.

(They don't put in survey stakes, just in case.  They intend to use the survey stakes to put in a road.  The question is what kind of road?  I check things out and I see at least a four lane road.  They don't put in four lane access roads.  I do some further checking and I find that the ground on the other side of the intersection with the big crossing highway is unstable.  I scope out the situation, using my good old oil company highway map.  If they upgrade the highway past my station, they gotta put in an interchange.  The interchange gotta cross my property and Karen's mother's property.  Karen, her mother and I gonna make some real money when they put the interchange in.  Things gonna change for the better!)

It's Saint Patrick's Day and there's a big party, down the road.  Everybody, who's anybody is going to the party.

However, Karen and I are nobody and we won't go to the party.

By now, Karen's mother is in a hospice and they say that she's not gonna make it.

I wait for Karen, Saint Patrick's Day night.  I have a basket.  Karen sees me and says glumly, “Gary, everybody else is at the party.”

“I have our party, in the basket.  Dance with me.”

Karen and I whirl around for a bit and even add a few maybe dance steps.  Kern then pulls away and I say, “Now, for the cake.”

Karen says, “Cake, what cake?”

I tell Karen, “It's a Saint Patrick's Day party here, we need cake.

We sit on the curb, under the street light, and eat cake, just the two of us.

As we eat, I lecture Karen, “I'm pretty sure that they're gonna improve the highway here.  There will be people probably coming around to talk to you about selling your diner and to me about selling my service station.  Don't talk to them, until they agree to talk to both of us together, down at the bank.  I got an in at the bank.  The bank will take care of us.  Alone, we don't stand a chance.”

Karen says, “Gary, I don't know anyone at the bank, well, maybe a couple of the teller girls, where I know a sister, but that's it.”

“Karen, I know the President of the bank a little bit.  He got me set up as an emancipated minor.  He has an interest in seeing that my employees and your employees continue to have jobs.  He's gonna be on our side.  With him on our side, we'll do okay.  But we gotta hold on.”

Karen looks puzzled, “Why should the bank care that my employees and your employees continue to have jobs?”

“Our employees either have homes with bank mortgages or rent from those who do.  The bank wants to see that our employees or their landlords can continue to pay their mortgage payments.”

Karen laughs, “The bank cares about our employees, but not really about us.”

“They will care about us, in the not too distant future.”

Karen turns serious, “Why will the bank care about us?”

I lecture Karen, “They're gonna do some highway upgrade work around here.  I did a little checking on previous highway work.  If the past is any guide, they'll have to pay us to put in access roads across your property and my property.  The pay may be in the hundreds of thousands of dollars.  Some guy gonna come by and try to buy you out for peanuts.  Don't listen to the guy and don't do it!  Wait for a meeting at the bank, when we can go in together.”

Karen says, “Hundreds of thousands of dollars?  Gary, there isn't that much money in the whole world!”