“Okay, May, are you ready to leave for the Lincoln-Douglas debate?” I asked when I arrived.
“Almost, just let me get my notebook,” she responded, “ I reckon we should hurry up or we’ll be late.”
After May got her notebook, we bumped into my mother, Megan.
“Hello mother, we’re about to leave for the Lincoln-Douglas debate,” I managed to squeak out as I flustered with embarrassment, “If you want, you can come with us.”
“Ok, just let me grab your father, Ash, and his friends, John Jones, and Cam Newton,” She replied, “Goodbye my sweet little honey bun, named Billy Bobby.”
We’re meeting up in Ottawa, Illinois, and we must drive at least twenty miles to arrive there.
Fifty-two