The Big Cat Nap

company has paid a call, started the paperwork, the funeralis over. Then we go. I can’t take the anguish. Now that the company’s big, I don’t need to make those calls. Sometimes I think it would be better if we’d vaporize and vanish. Less pain and drama.”
    BoomBoom, having lost her husband years ago, steadily replied, “Latigo, just because you don’t see the body doesn’t mean you don’t feel the pain. It’s like getting hit in the gut with a medicine ball, but the pain doesn’t go away. Not for years, really.”
    Realizing he’d forgotten about Kelly, Latigo apologized. “You’re right. I forget that you lost your husband.”
    “I wasn’t offended.” She smiled at him. “Simply making a point. If I’m truthful, I think we would have eventually divorced. He was so driven by the business, morning, noon, and night. There wasn’t time for me, and I guess I’m selfish. I want to be first.”
    “Oh, BoomBoom, you’re always first.” Harry shrugged. “But it’s almost always about sex.”
    Latigo’s eyes bugged out. He couldn’t believe Harry said that. Sure, the women had known each other for most of their lives, but still.
    BoomBoom laughed—such a clear, lovely laugh. “Leave it to you to tell the truth.”
    Sheepishly, Harry said, “Boom, something happens to men when they look at you. Their brains go right out the window.”
    Latigo smiled. “She’s right, BoomBoom.”
    “All I ever wanted to be was loved for myself. That’s not as easy as it sounds.”
    Latigo nodded. “Maybe not for anybody.”
    The two women had lost count of his ex-wives. He hadn’t, since he had to pay alimony and child support.
    “Let’s not talk about me.” BoomBoom stared down at the track. “I see tires smoking. Isn’t that dangerous?”
    “Not really. What’s dangerous is not changing the tires when they need it. These specialized tires can run up to five hundred dollars apiece, and you go through them fast.”
    “What about those expensive tires that Franny Howard sells? The Pirelli PZeroes and stuff like that?” Harry inquired.
    “How do you know about PZeroes?”
    “Motorhead.” BoomBoom pointed to Harry.
    “Motorhead.” Harry pointed back at BoomBoom.
    “Ah. Victor did tell me you two were car nuts. Not too many women are. Rare.”
    “Well, those girls are missing a lot,” Harry said forcefully, since she had long ago tired of being the odd girl out among the talon-fingernailed girl set. “But I’m friends with Franny. She was so glad the next shipment of Yokohamas came in after the theft. But why not those big-name tires?”
    “In drag racing, you need highly specialized tires. Simply put, you need a lot of rubber on the road. You need grip, but not the kind of tread you’d need in mud, snow, hard rain. It’s a whole different ball game. Also, these cars usually weigh less than true road vehicles. Weight is saved whenever it can be. For instance, some body repairs might be made with plastic. Not smart, but sure helps the weight problem. So, again, a driver needs a different kind of tire. People usually don’t think about vehicle weight when they buy a tire.” He waved his hand. “I’ve seen just about every kind of collision aftermath that you can imagine. Fortunately, most of them are easily repaired—well, maybe not easily, but they can be repaired. Others are scrap metal, and that’s why you need really good people in the field. But I can tell you—and this is just a rough guess, no industry statistics—that I think about twenty-five percent of accidents could have been avoided if the vehicle’s owner had checked the treads and replaced those tires. Everyone wants to get that extra thousand out of the rubber. It’s really stupid.”
    “Money,” BoomBoom simply stated.
    “Everything seems to come down to that, but, hey, seems to me that one’s life and the lives of your family are worth the price of four new tires.”
    “You should work for Franny.” Harry liked Franny so much.
    “Smart lady. Could she sell racing performance tires? I mean real racing performance tires, not just a great set of tires on a Ferrari to be driven for show. She could, but the market is so small. That woman, all by herself, has built a great business.”
    “Well, you have, too,” Harry complimented him.
    “The insurance industry has changed so much. It’s a lot hardernow—regulations, being demonized by the media.” He shrugged. “Well, we aren’t the only business