. . ." "Take Him out," I said, unheedful of her pleading. Her hands fumbled at my zipper, she laid both hands on Him, her cheek against Him, saying, "...h, God, no, you'll give me a baby. Please, God, anything but that." I stood there until she had got her fill of what was coming to her. Then I said, "Lay down." There was a shag rug convenient on the tile floor, where a person would stand to use the cutting board. She laid back on it, her knees tight together, her hands clutched over her. Austin seemed to be okay with the outcome. The nurse gave him a clean billof health other than some bruising, and he had this perverse belief thathe had come out on top in the ordeal because of all the attention I hadgiven him in front of his peers. I wasn't happy with the outcome, but itwasn't my decision to press charges. It was nice to know my parents feltthe same way I did, but they had left the decision up to him.I was worried about him the next day. I checked on him a couple of. More

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