“It's going to storm," she said."You've been in Alabama for twenty-four hours and you think you canread the weather?""Then why is it so dark?""It's going to storm."She wanted to hit him. "Then I'd appreciate getting to my car before ithits. I don't like thunderstorms. ""No, I imagine you don't," he said softly. "That's just something elseyou're afraid of. Sex, men, thunderstorms, being poor. Me. Anything else?"Yeah," she said. "I'm afraid of alligators and poisonous snakes, orotherwise I wouldn't be here in this hearse with you.”