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"
No
.
No
,
just
let
me
be
.
"
He
went
blindly
to
his
own
room
,
let
himself
in
and
bolted
the
door
after
him
,
leaned
heavily
with
both
hands
gripping
the
foot
of
the
bed
.
My
son
,
oh
my
son
!
Would
that
I
had
died
for
thee
!
He
had
had
so
much
to
live
for
?
and
an
old
fool
that
he
respected
too
much
had
to
shoot
off
his
yap
and
goad
him
into
a
needless
,
useless
martyrdom
.
If
Mike
had
given
them
something
big
-
like
stereo
,
or
bingo
–
but
he
gave
them
the
Truth
.
Or
a
piece
of
the
Truth
.
And
who
is
interested
in
Truth
?
He
laughed
through
his
sobs
.
After
a
while
he
shut
them
off
,
both
heart
-
broken
sobs
and
bitter
laugh
,
and
pawed
through
his
traveling
bag
.
He
had
what
he
wanted
with
him
;
he
had
kept
a
supply
in
his
toilet
kit
ever
since
Joe
Douglas
’
s
stroke
had
reminded
him
that
all
flesh
is
grass
.
Well
,
now
his
own
stroke
had
come
and
he
couldn
’
t
take
it
.
He
prescribed
three
tablets
for
himself
to
make
it
fast
and
certain
,
washed
them
down
with
water
,
and
lay
quickly
on
the
bed
.
Shortly
the
pain
went
away
.
From
a
great
distance
the
voice
reached
him
.
"
Jubal
-
"
"
‘
M
resting
,
Don
’
bother
me
.
"
"
Jubal
!
Please
,
Father
!
"
"
Uh
?
yes
,
Mike
?
What
is
it
?
"
"
Wake
up
!
Fullness
is
not
yet
.
Here
,
let
me
help
you
.
"
Jubal
sighed
.
"
Okay
,
Mike
"
He
let
himself
be
helped
and
led
into
the
bath
,
let
his
head
be
held
while
he
threw
up
,
accepted
a
glass
of
water
and
rinsed
out
his
mouth
.
