Dennis

I haven't written much about my older brother, Dennis. He's 9 years older than me. He's blond and blue eyed. He's a very successful airplane restorer and mechanic. He's even had his picture along with one of his planes on the cover of an aviation magazine.
When Dennis was a teenager he was the opposite of Dan. Dan was curious and would take things apart. Dennis was organized and would put the things back together. Dan was a flirt. Dennis could care less about girls. He was into cars.
We had neighbors who had 4 girls. One was my best friend, Denise, and there were 2 older sisters and one younger one. The sister just older than Denise (Diane) had a crush on Dennis. She was forever at our house talking to Dennis.
If you wanted to find Dennis, just look in the driveway under the hood of his car - a yellow convertible. What kind I couldn't tell you, I was only 7 years old. I was told to never go near his car. Don't get into it, don't touch it, don't even look at it. I was the younger sister who lived to irritate my brothers.
One day Denise's older sister was talking to Dennis while he was working on his car. He was busy and did not want company. He told Diane to go home. She wouldn't. Dennis stopped what he was doing, threw Diane over his shoulder, stalked through the alley to her house and dumped her into their pool. Diane's father was there watching this take place. He didn't say one word.
Dennis was skinny, too. The only thing he had as a vice was bread. He would come into the house and grab two slices of bread then go back to his car.
My mother hated the word 'fart'. To her it was a crude word that was just a step above swearing. When Dennis would come in for his 'snack', Mom would ask him what he was doing. Over his shoulder on the way out of the house he would yell, "Just farting around." Then run like crazy to get out of ear shot. Mom would try to act like she was offended, but if you watched her, you could see she was trying to hide giggles.
I'll write more about Dennis another time.