It still didn't feel like fear. I didn't feel like I was bailing out on the pitches, or flinching. But something was different, and, whatever it was, ...andy seemed to be the only antidote. When she was nearby, when I could think about her, back there behind me in the stands, the fear -- if that's what it was -- didn't take hold of me.Superstition? Was that all it was? Maybe. But I had never been superstitious. I'd never cared about mystical stuff; it had always seemed like bullshit to me. I. Carol usually ended up on the couch, wearing one of his T-shirts to keep her work clothes unwrinkled, sitting Indian style, legs spread and no underwear on. We would go out dancing with him at a local night club. Carol's clothes were revealing, short and tight. Her favorite dress was short clinging, and black (no underwear). John and I alternated dances with her. The three of us usually sat in a small booth with Carol in the middle. Her thighs were pressed against both of ours. When I. More

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