The wreck

Jonathan was racing us; he was driving too fast. He had dark hair. He sped past us on our left, churning up billowing clouds of dust, while behind us, two cars went askew to avoid the speeding vehicle and collided. I ran back towards the scene to see what had occurred.

A man in a strangely painted, flat suit - replete with gray trim and a bowtie - was angrily cursing and scolding the other driver with whom he'd collided. I recognized this suit-man as Larry Sterling, my oldest sister Adrienne's old boyfriend, whom was once my friend: I had worked with him at my dad's work - Georges and Shapiro Lithograph - and used to frequent his house for a few late nights of playing Magic cards with Zack in tow.

Immediately he softened, and we embraced - for an almost-uncomfortably long period of time - and we danced circles during that embrace, like little jubilant schoolgirls, chanting and shouting our excitement at having seen one another after all these long years.

...

And this says nothing at all of the large mansion I was in earlier, with its blue carpeted floors and whitewashed walls. All that's left to picture now is the bright green lawn spanning the side of the house facing the water - picture Jay Gatsby's home - and the peak-like rooftops that seemed to go up and up forever.