"A convertible?" Emily said with a tone of disbelief. "I'm supposed to be slipping away in secret, but you have the top down! Anyone we pass will spot me!"

"Not in that get-up. Jump in!" Carol hoisted her passenger's well-stuffed valise into the back.

In the alley behind the bakery where she often helped Carol's mom, Emily slid onto the bench seat of the sleek little get-away car, the slick blue fabric of her borrowed culottes – the newest teen fashion – snickering with static. Topped by a sleeveless, lemon-yellow chiffon blouse with a boldly-striped sweater thrown over a shoulder, Emily should have felt decades younger. She adjusted the purple polkadot scarf over her long hair – no longer coiled in a bun but flopping in a ponytail – and tightened the knot under her chin, which luckily hid her ropy neck.

Dressed much the same but with the addition of white go-go boots, Carol plopped in front of the steering wheel.

Emily wore sensible walking shoes, having turned down a similar set of boots. After all, who'd be looking into the footwell?

"Sunglasses on," Carol ordered. "Incognito! Here we go!"

Emily yelped as swift acceleration slammed her against the backrest. She slid on the bench seat, snatching for a handhold, when Carol veered out onto the main road. By the time they left Skowalko, radio blaring, she'd learned to brace herself. Her thudding heartbeat eased.

"Was he spying again this morning?" Carol asked as they headed into the wooded hills overlooking town.

"Yes-ss." Emily sniffed in disgust.

"Then how'd you get to the bakery?"

"Slipped out my back door, which he couldn't see from his car. Through the back gate into the woods, then along the trail to another street."

"Sneaky! Anyone see you?"

"Back on the streets, yes. But I just puttered along. Waved. Called 'Good morning.'" Emily patted Carol's arm. "I watched last night's episode of 'The Fugitive' so I know to stroll and not slink."

"Far out!"

"Out of sight!"

Carol laughed. "You make a foxy teenager, Missus Kassell! Hang on now. Straight stretch here. I'll open her all the way up to fifty!"

Emily could hardly breathe with the wind blowing up her nose. Her ponytail whipped. Her blouse's chiffon ruffles flapped. Both joyriders, young and old, laughed into the fresh mountain air.

Firs and spruce flashed past, and their sweet sun-warmed scent spiced every breath. Maples blazed in reds, oranges, and yellows against the dark evergreen backdrop. Emily glimpsed a bald eagle soaring in circles above a ridge.

Carol sang along with a hot new pop song on the radio. Before long Emily joined in on the nonsense lines, too. "Doo wah diddy diddy dum diddy do!" The two of them, drunk on the crystal claret of autumn in the mountains.

The delirious ride came to an end far too soon. The highway moseyed into the heart of a small town. Emily watched out for a certain small eatery. "There," she said. "I'll pop into the restroom and change clothes then treat you to lunch before my mystery host arrives to take me the rest of the way."

"Oh come on, Miss Kassell," Carol teased. "Stay in character another half an hour. Who knows, some handsome young guy may wander in, be dazzled by your fashion sense, and ask you on a date!"

.

prompt word: "drunk"