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Show 50 Dyna took a sip of her root beer. "Let me think a minute. Poetry, huh?" "And maybe some guitar music, lights, whatever we come up with--" She lifted her coffee cup in both hands, looked through the steam and waited. "I know who'd like to have us . . . but the class wouldn't want to go there." "Where's that?" "Nah, the kids wouldn't like it. It's too depressing." Mrs. Simpson laughed. "Tell me!" Dyna hesitated. "Well . . . Gram and the old Mums go sometimes. It's the senior citizens' hang-out at the north end of the park. They play bingo, stuff like that. They had a basket social one time that Gram never stops talking about. Old Mr. Whitzel from up the street bid highest on her chicken dinner so she had to eat with him. He has the worst breath!" Timmy laughed at the icky face Dyna made. "Why not?" Mrs. Simpson sounded delighted. "I like the idea, Mr. Whitzel aside." "Amy? And John? You think they'd want to read for a bunch of old people?" "Really, I do. I think you've hit on it!" "You think so?" Dyna was skeptical. "It's just a big old hall over there, with card tables and chairs an' some dumpy sofas. Some of those old geezers can't even hear." "No problem. We'll get Tiffany to bellydance." Dyna giggled, picturing Tiffany under veils. By the time they left JB's, Mrs. Simpson had extracted a promise from Dyna. "You find out if the senior citizens want us and when," she bargained, "and I'll guarantee the class won't be able to resist." Dyna rolled her eyes. She hoped the old folks, who couldn't always make it through a TV show, could stay awake for poetry. But Mrs. Simpson was all fired up over the idea, "This sounds like a good prescription for what ails that class. Communication, affirmation . . . revitalization!" She was making a regular speech of it. "It's what we need, young and old alike. What do you |