When Dahlia went home, someone was waiting for her. He limped toward the door when he heard it opening.
"Billy!" she cried. The delight she felt was like a memory of the delight he caused whenever he visited. It was always a surprise -- he had his own key.
They hugged with an added pressure to indicate "this time I won't let you go," but they let go before long.
"Doll, I saw you on TV!"
"Don't sound so excited! I'm the brother of a celebrity."
"No, I'm just a hanger-on. I'm a groupie."
"Bullshit! You're the smartest of the bunch. Since when are you so smart?"
"Something came over me, Billy."
"You've always been smart, Doll. But you were all... bookish, you know? You knew more Bible than all those Rabbis and priests put together."
"It's like I'm possessed."
"Possessed? Possessed by what?"
"By Saint Catherine."
"Saint Catherine who?"
"You know. The Catherine Wheel."
"Yeah, she died on that big wheel, right?"
"Actually, she survived that. She was beheaded."
"Ha! She just couldn't win, could she?"
back bookmark index