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It
was
a
frightening
sensation
,
having
him
cut
my
hair
again
.
Later
,
as
he
stropped
the
razor
against
leather
the
harsh
whisper
made
me
cringe
.
I
bent
my
head
under
the
gentle
press
of
his
hand
and
felt
the
blade
scrape
carefully
across
my
neck
.
I
closed
my
eyes
and
waited
.
It
was
as
if
I
were
on
the
operating
table
again
.
My
neck
muscle
knotted
,
and
without
warning
it
twitched
.
The
blade
nicked
me
just
above
the
Adam
’
s
apple
.
"
Hey
!
"
he
shouted
.
"
Jesus
.
.
.
take
it
easy
.
You
moved
.
Hey
,
I
’
m
awful
sorry
.
"
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He
dashed
to
wet
a
towel
at
the
sink
.
In
the
mirror
I
watched
the
bright
red
bubble
and
the
thin
line
dripping
down
my
throat
.
Excited
and
apologiz
­
ing
,
he
got
to
it
before
it
reached
the
neckcloth
.
Watching
him
move
,
adroit
for
such
a
short
,
heavy
man
,
I
felt
guilty
at
the
deception
.
I
wanted
to
tell
him
who
I
was
and
have
him
put
his
arm
around
my
shoulder
,
so
we
could
talk
about
the
old
days
.
But
I
waited
while
he
dabbed
at
the
cut
with
styptic
powder
.
He
finished
shaving
me
silently
,
and
then
brought
the
sun
-
tan
lamp
over
to
the
chair
and
put
cool
white
pads
of
cotton
soaked
in
witch
hazel
over
my
eyes
.
There
,
in
the
bright
red
inner
darkness
I
saw
what
happened
the
night
he
took
me
away
from
the
house
for
the
last
time
.
.
.
.
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Charlie
is
asleep
in
the
other
room
,
but
he
wakens
to
the
sound
of
his
mother
shrieking
.
He
has
learned
to
sleep
through
quarrels
—
they
are
an
everyday
occurrence
in
his
house
.
But
tonight
there
is
something
terribly
wrong
in
that
hysteria
.
He
shrinks
back
into
the
pillow
and
listens
.
"
I
can
’
t
help
it
!
He
’
s
got
to
go
!
We
’
ve
got
her
to
think
about
.
I
won
’
t
have
her
come
home
from
school
crying
every
day
like
this
because
the
children
tease
her
.
We
can
’
t
destroy
her
chance
for
a
normal
life
because
of
him
.
"
"
What
do
you
want
to
do
?
Turn
him
out
into
the
street
?
"