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In the Truck

           "Where?Amotel?"

           "Hon,wecouldn’taffordamotel.Itwouldhavetobeatmymother’s."

           ThehopeinDanny’sfacediedout."Iknow-"hesaid,andstopped.

           "What?"

           "Nothing,"hemuttered.

           Sheshiftedbacktosecondasthegradesteepenedagain."No,doc,pleasedon’tsaythat.Thistalkissomethingweshouldhavehadweeksago,Ithink.Soplease.Whatisityouknow?Iwon’tbemad.Ican’tbemad,becausethisistooimportant.Talkstraighttome."

           "Iknowhowyoufeelabouther,"Dannysaid,andsighed.

           "HowdoIfeel?"

           "Bad,"Dannysaid,andthenrhyming,singsong,frighteningher:"Bad.Sad.Mad.It’slikeshewasn’tyourmommyatall.Likeshewantedtoeatyou."Helookedather,frightened."AndIdon’tlikeitthere.She’salwaysthinkingabouthowshewouldbebetterformethanyou.Andhowshecouldgetmeawayfromyou.Mommy,Idon’twanttogothere.I’dratherbeattheOverlookthanthere."

           Wendywasshaken.Wasitthatbadbetweenherandhermother?God,whathellfortheboyifitwasandhecouldreallyreadtheirthoughtsforeachother.Shesuddenlyfeltmorenakedthannaked,asifshehadbeencaughtinanobsceneact.

           "Allright,"shesaid."Allright,Danny."

           "You’remadatme,"hesaidinasmall,near-to-tearsvoice.

           "No,I’mnot.

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