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Janice
ignored
him
.
It
was
Brutal
and
me
she
was
looking
at
,
mostly
me
.
"
Do
you
mean
to
kill
him
,
you
cowards
?
"
she
asked
.
"
Do
you
mean
to
kill
the
man
who
saved
Melinda
Moores
's
life
,
who
tried
to
save
those
little
girls
,
lives
?
Well
,
at
least
there
will
be
one
less
black
man
in
the
world
wo
n't
there
?
You
can
console
yourselves
with
that
.
One
less
nigger
.
"
She
got
up
,
looked
at
her
chair
,
and
kicked
it
into
the
wall
.
It
rebounded
and
fell
into
the
spilled
squash
.
I
took
her
wrist
and
she
yanked
it
free
.
"
Do
n't
touch
me
,
"
she
said
.
"
Next
week
this
time
you
'll
be
a
murderer
,
no
better
than
that
man
Wharton
,
so
do
n't
touch
me
.
"
She
went
out
onto
the
back
stoop
,
put
her
apron
up
to
her
face
,
and
began
to
sob
into
it
.
The
four
of
us
looked
at
each
other
.
After
a
little
bit
I
got
on
my
feet
and
set
about
cleaning
up
the
mess
.
Brutal
joined
me
first
,
then
Harry
and
Dean
When
the
place
looked
more
or
less
shipshape
again
,
they
left
.
None
of
us
said
a
word
the
whole
time
.
There
was
really
nothing
left
to
say
.
That
was
my
night
off
.
I
sat
in
the
living
room
of
our
little
house
,
smoking
cigarettes
,
listening
to
the
radio
,
and
watching
the
dark
come
up
out
of
the
ground
to
swallow
the
sky
.
Television
is
all
right
,
I
've
nothing
against
it
,
but
I
do
n't
like
how
it
turns
you
away
from
the
rest
of
the
world
and
toward
nothing
but
its
own
glassy
self
.
In
that
one
way
,
at
least
,
radio
was
better
.
Janice
came
in
,
knelt
beside
the
arm
of
my
chair
,
and
took
my
hand
.
For
a
little
while
neither
of
us
said
anything
,
just
stayed
that
way
,
listening
to
Kay
Kyser
's
Kollege
of
Musical
Knowledge
and
watching
the
stars
come
out
.
It
was
all
right
with
me
.
"
I
'm
so
sorry
I
called
you
a
coward
,
"
she
said
.
"
I
feel
worse
about
that
than
anything
I
've
ever
said
to
you
in
our
whole
marriage
.
"
"
Even
the
time
when
we
went
camping
and
you
called
me
Old
Stinky
Sam
?
"
I
asked
,
and
then
we
laughed
and
had
a
kiss
or
two
and
it
was
better
again
between
us
.
She
was
so
beautiful
,
my
Janice
,
and
I
still
dream
of
her
.
Old
and
tired
of
living
as
I
am
,
I
'll
dream
that
she
walks
into
my
room
in
this
lonely
,
forgotten
place
where
the
hallways
all
smell
of
piss
and
old
boiled
cabbage
,
I
dream
she
's
young
and
beautiful
with
her
blue
eyes
and
her
fine
high
breasts
that
I
could
n't
hardly
keep
my
hands
off
of
,
and
she
'll
say
,
Why
,
honey
,
I
was
n't
in
that
bus
crash
.
You
made
a
mistake
,
that
's
all
.
Even
now
I
dream
that
,
and
sometimes
when
I
wake
up
and
know
it
was
a
dream
,
I
cry
.
I
,
who
hardly
ever
cried
at
all
when
I
was
young
"
Does
Hal
know
?
"
she
asked
at
last
.
