Benton Ray Harrow's nineteen eighty-three amphibious car—pale blue, whitewall tires, red seats, the hopeful expression of a thing designed to conquer cuteness.

Benton bought it from a collector in Arizona and turned the second ride into a

story, the third into a prank, the fifth into a performance. He shouted that the

brakes had gone, the car floated, and he laughed with his whole body. On the final

ride the left rear brake caught, fence wire waited in low water, and the car was

hauled to the equipment shed under a brown tarp before midnight.