Looking down at me, “What’s your name?’ he asked. “Avis” I replied and again a large hand slapped across my face hard. “No it’s not”...he said. “Now, what’s your name?’ again he asked. “Avis master” I replied. Placing one hand on my cheek, he slapped me hard three more times, “No It’s not” he said louder. “Whore” I cried out. Again he slapped my face hard sending me off a bit towards the floor. “Its whore” I cried out in desperation. For a second he looked at me, “What are you?’ he now. ’ ‘Hah! Stop saying that.’ ‘Why do u always put urself down like that? I bet u r really pretty. Will u trust me 1 more time?’ ‘Funny, but I think I trust u more than n e 1. Isn’t that silly?’ Before the end of their session that evening, they had made an appointment to meet the next Saturday night at the ‘Sport n’ Brat’ on Thirty-Fifth and Jefferson, at eight p.m. He was to carry the red copy of Catcher in the Rye, she would wear a white carnation in her hair. *** *** *** As eight o’clock drew. More

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