I was sitting at one of the red round stools at one of the many drive in diners that was in my home town of Perdido Beach. It was a relaxing autumn day in 1964 and I was with my friends at the diner for dinner. I had a milkshake in front of me in a glass cup and a red and white straw sticking out of it. My friends were eating and chatting as the diner as other high schoolers our age came in to do the same thing. I leaned back against the counter, listening in on Drake and Panda’s conversation as I sipped my glass bottled coke. I had on my school uniform with the maroon pullover sweater, white collared shirt under it, black tie and tan slacks. I was only half paying attention to who came into the diner as it wasn’t my responsibility and I hardly cared for the less wealthy students who seemed to flock here. But suddenly, Panda came up behind me, putting a firm hand on my shoulder and pointing toward the jukebox in the other corner of the diner.

“Caine, Caine!” Panda said in a hushed tone, “Look at that beauty…”