But it also did something else. It smelled. The darn thing was made of real, honest to goodness rubber; a heady, pungent odor that took me back throug... the years. There I stood once again before my mother's middle dresser drawer, happily extracting one of her bras to take away for my own use while the family was away for the day. It was a heavy duty, industrial strength garment, providing the kind of the support needed by Carrie Nation as she wielded her massive ax against a solid mahogany bar. There was a rather attractive girl who didn’t like me. She had witnessed the beating. When she saw me at school, it freaked her out. She went around convincing people I was the devil, because nobody could receive a beating like that and not be injured. I made matters worse on that front. Now that I had been betrayed, not counting my girls, Ed was the closest thing I had to a friend. He knew I was alone, so he sought me out to see if I was OK. Unfortunately, he didn’t call out. He approached me. More

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