One of the Boys
Riding in the passenger seat of Charlie's snub-nosed van, Pet incuriously watched the Sunday traffic on the Garden State Parkway. Rick Benton, one of the sound men, and Ted, a lighting technician, were sitting on the black fur cot at the back, part of the skeleton crew that would be needed.
"Don't forget to watch for my exit," Charlie reminded her, not for the first time. "We'll probably get lost before we get there."
"I doubt it," Pet offered dryly.
"I'd like to know whose harebrained idea this was," he muttered. "Location shots in New Jersey of all places!"
"New Jersey is more than a corridor you have to pass through between New York and Pennsylvania." Her state pride insisted that she couldn't let that remark go unchallenged. "I know that's all most people see as they zoom through on their way someplace else. No one wants to believe we have swamp, marshes, miles of beach, farms, forests and lakes. If they can't see it from the highway, it isn't there."
"This must have been your idea, then," Charlie declared with a laughing glance.