Danny played a few hands of Solitaire while the young woman intently looked on. The two were silent except for the couple times she showed him a play he had missed. They were interrupted by the noise of an eighteen wheeler pulling in to gas up. The hibernating bear of a man awoke, yawned, stretched, and let out a growl.

D.W., with his wife tagging closely along, arose and walked to the car quickly, to avoid any bothersome fans. Danny noticed the young woman had forgotten her book. He snatched it and ran off in search of the couple.

D.W. was tugging his wife towards the car, when Danny grabbed her arm. "Hey, you didn't want to leave this behind, did you?" She smiled and Danny smiled back. She didn't speak though, then she looked away. Caught in an awkward moment, Danny looked at D.W. hoping to see his hero beaming with gratitude. Instead, all Danny saw was a scowling face. Danny gained his composure, mustered up some courage, and said, "Mr. Washington, could I get your autograph, please?"

Spike drew a pen from his breast pocket and took the book from his wife. He proceed to rip the cover off of it like it was worthless garbage. Then he signed the back and handed it to Danny. Danny's chin dropped and his mouth was wide open, though not from amazement or awe. He was mortified. He looked up at the young woman and tried to give her an apologetic look, but she stared blankly into the ground. She'd probably become used to such things.

Hours later, after the long journey back to college, Danny didn't know what to do with his new cursed trophy. He had the urge to throw it away. At the same time he remembered all the great times he'd had watching Spike, and he kind of wanted to hang the autograph on the wall. Could he forgive his hero, like he'd done every time before. Danny and his dad had witnessed several spectacular moments watching Spike. Danny remembered his dad and picked up the phone. "Dad, its Danny, I just got in."

"How was the trip?"

"Hard to endure."

"Yeah, well, those long car trips can get pretty boring."

"Yeah."

"Remember what you need to do. You know, the tax forms and the financial aid and the rest."

"Yeah, I remember. Thanks Dad."

"Whoa, I can't believe it. I think this is the first time you've ever thanked me for reminding you about something."

"Well, don't get used to it." Danny could hear his dad let out a laugh. "hey, Dad, you'll never believe who I saw on the plane."

As they conversed a bit longer about college football and other father-son topics of interest, Danny taped his new prize to the wall above his desk. The beautiful dove would be a constant reminder.

<- Take me home.