" It's going to storm," she said. "You've been in Alabama for twenty-four hours and you think you can read 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 it hits. I don't like thunderstorms. " "No, I imagine you don't," he said softly. "That's just something else you're afraid of. Sex, men, thunderstorms, being poor. Me. Anything else? "Yeah," she said. "I'm afraid of alligators and poisonous snakes, or otherwise I wouldn't be here in this hearse with you. "