Why didn’t he just punch her in the stomach? The doorbell rang and she heard Nicki pound on the door. ‘Al?’ Nicki yelled, still banging. Jack ha... her face in his hands now and he was forcing her to look into his eyes. He looked so sincere. ‘You’re destined to be my wife.’ Ally held her breath. Had he just said— ‘I’ve never been with anyone like you Ally, I know that if you look at the women I’ve been with something doesn’t quite fit. But it’s not you that doesn’t fit, Ally. It’s them. They were. .’ He took a few deep breaths, then pushed her up on her feet in front of him. She kept crying and wiped her cheeks ineffectively. ‘Do you understand why I had to punish you?’ he asked. She nodded and sobbed ‘I’m sorry.. I’m really sorry..’, barely audible over her crying. He stroked her hips gently. ‘Come.’ he said and pushed her gently toward the door. She let him take her to his room where he left her standing in front of a couch. He went into his bathroom while she tried to stop her tears. I had no idea if she had clue one about what she was going to do. It seemed like the right thing, though. I mean ... on the TV shows they were always drilling into somebody's skull to relieve the pressure. But I didn't hold out much hope for a scalpel vs a titanium plate.I grabbed Zeus' head anyway. "It's metal," I said. "Scalpel not strong enough to cut titanium." Why do Americans always devolve to pigeon-English when dealing with someone who's grasp of English is not complete?"I know, but...". I grew up on the outskirts of a relatively small town during the nineteen sixties. The Halloween night that is the topic of this story took place in 1966 when I was thirteen. I was about five foot five inches tall and thin. My face had not lost the look of innocent youth, my voice had not begun to change in pitch and the need for shaving my face was to be a couple of years away. I had dark hair, blue eyes and was considered to be very cute by most people. In fact, an aunt said, on several.
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