She prevaricated. Perhaps you'll give me in return some token, by which I may remind you of this occurrence, in case we meet again. ” She commanded. Hill again—alive. She stole the opportunity to peer at his departing figure from the closed curtains of the front room window, his shoulders slumped forward, his posture and his ego slightly deflated. Not I. When the word “FREAK” appeared scratched in the persimmon colored paint on her locker, she knew that in some fragile young woman’s mind a war had escalated from imaginary to physical. Norris. “My Mom was a good lady.
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