“Oh, I can’t. You wouldn’t. I’m avirgin, no boy has ever. My Daddy’s only used my, my,you know, my backside.”̶...;I don’t believe it,” I told her. “Come around hereand get down on your knees and show me your talents.Let me see how much you want to enter our school andget your program.” I looked at her entry forms. “Whois paying, your uncle?”She sniffed and walked around, her big jugs bobblingin and out of her open shirt. What the heck, she thought. I’ve got to give it a try. Robyn swung open the door as the lady brushed the droning flies from her worksheets, pushed the pencil into her large bun of hair, and stiffened her back. ‘May I help you?’ Her icy tone was the one she reserved for salesmen and bill collectors. But Robyn met her piercing eyes with a smile. ‘I’m Robyn Dunmore. My dad was the editor.’ The old lady gave a sharp rustle to her long black dress as she stood up. She always used every inch of her. More

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