Ace was afraid of smart women. He wanted a simple minded girl who would follow him anywhere, have babies, and cook large pots of noodles with chicken while he plowed mythical fields and dreamed of wheelbarrows of dollars streaming to the bank. Instead he got Delilah, a wrong-headed teenager with strong legs and a chip on her shoulder and a hunger for settling in.
The babies came: pop, pop, pop. Then he got a taste in his mouth to wander, looking for gold streets, a better life. They hit the road with everything they owned piled in the back of a 57 Chevy station wagon. The good times were short, the bad times stretched for years.
Minimum wage jobs and loveless kisses pushed them so far apart that Delilah packed up and left, leaving the kids behind and ripping the dream right out of Ace’s heart. Transplanted to an efficiency apartment with a hide-a-bed and a radio from the Salvation Army, she set about to find the real thing.
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