I. Rural West Virginia, 1958
The boy flipped his bright-red baseball cap around on his head so that the bill faced forward as his father drove their Chevy pickup down a winding country road. It was barely summer—the end of May—and a cool breeze rushed in through the open window. Billy, the eight-year-old boy, smiled the kind of smile a kid smiles when he gets to spend a few uninterrupted hours with his dad. He was tuned in perfectly to what his dad was doing, mimicking the way he placed his forearm in the open window frame and leaned his head back against the headrest, letting the breeze blow gently over his face.
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