Press Morgan was a year behind me at school and we played on the varsity team together. I liked him for the way he played, but I didn't know him."What...does Press say?" I asked."What do you think?" He's urging you to do it," I said, laughing and she laughed too. "You're not ready," I gave my verdict based solely on something I heard in her voice."Thanks, Oldham, I owe you," she said, emphasizing 'owe' and dropping her voice at 'you'."I owe you more," I countered and this led to a ten-minute. There was a strange bulge stretching against the inside of her lower abdomen,and it could be clearly seen moving in a queer fashion every time Dad shoved the bat into her.I leaned back as Mommy then put the chair into it's reclining position. Getting up and walking over to my bedroom window,she opened it letting a cool breeze fill the room. We could hear music floating on the air. It came from the Church two doors down the street,as the organist practiced for that nights service. "Oh! Isn't. More

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