 
## The Virgin Conquest

### Love Through the Ages, Vol. 1

The Neehawk Chronicles

Ages 18 to 20

### Published by R. J. Will at Smashwords

Copyright © 2014 by R. J. Will

**Smashwords Edition, License Notes**

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

# About _Love Through the Ages_

_Love Through the Ages_ is not an ordinary series. Each book in the five-book bundle is a stand-alone. The setting for each book is the same, the fictitious city of Neehawk, Nebraska. But the characters in each book are different, and they are older in each succeeding book – thus "love through the ages." The main characters in _The Virgin Conquest_ are 18-20 years old. The main characters in Vol. 5 of the bundle are in their 70s.

But love is the same throughout.

# Table of Contents

Chapter 1 – The First Kiss

Chapter 2 – The Full-Slip Girdle

Chapter 3 – The Gunshots

Chapter 4 – The Crime Scene

Chapter 5 – 'A Little Talk'

Chapter 6 – Unfinished Business

Chapter 7 – Barefoot in the Sand

Chapter 8 – A Bad Break

Chapter 9 – A Woman Possessed

Chapter 10 – An Open Fracture

Chapter 11 – The Recovery

Chapter 12 – A 3 a.m. Phone Call

Chapter 13 – The Amputation

Chapter 14 – The Apartment

Chapter 15 – The Breakup

Chapter 16 – A Punch in the Face

Chapter 17 – The Psychiatrist

Chapter 18 – One Year Later

About R.J. WILL

Other Books by R. J. Will

#  Chapter 1

### The First Kiss

Harvey Holloway, shocked, confused and almost paralyzed, stood 10 feet tall, the king of the world.

One moment adoring crowds cheered and applauded him, tossed rose petals in his path and called out his name; the next moment he crouched in a dark, cold, musty cellar, alone, unsure what to do, and frightened.

Ecstasy and Confusion seemed like such an odd match, yet they had managed to emerge deep within him at the same instant. To Harvey, the pairing of those two contradictory conditions made no sense, but at this moment they sat arm in arm, humming along in his veins like an old married couple.

The story of how Harvey got into this predicament began a week ago when he had mustered every ounce of gumption he had and asked Wanda McFalls to be his date at the Neehawk, Nebraska, High School graduation dance one week hence.

Wanda had swallowed hard, closed her eyes and clenched her fists, as if she were mustering every ounce of gumption she had, and said yes.

Her voice was so soft, however, Harvey couldn't be sure he heard right.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Yes," Wanda said with conviction.

Obviously, Harvey thought, nobody had ever asked Wanda such a question. He thought none the less of her, however, because he had never asked a girl such a question.

Harvey and Wanda had a couple of things in common: both were 18 years old going on 19, and neither had ever had a date, a real, official date, as when boy asks girl out, or sometimes the reverse. Yes, Harvey and his buddy Duane picked up girls from time to time and took them to Pecker Point, a 200-acre wooded park-like area dotted with grassy fields along the Missouri River about a mile outside of town. Pecker Point had become a popular party place for teenagers, a place where Harvey and Duane drank beer or cherry vodka and got into some lukewarm petting with the girls. So what if Harvey had never asked a girl for a real date. He didn't consider himself a failure – he had "been" with plenty of girls.

Harvey doubted Wanda had ever had an amorous moment with a boy, date or no date. He had never had an extended conversation with her. Whenever they met in the hallways at school, she would cast her eyes downward and hurry on by, seldom saying a word unless he said something first. She was a bit short and on the chubby side, and Harvey considered her slight double chin a sign that a matronly figure was in her not too distant future. Her school clothes consisted mostly of jeans and a shirt, and she kept her auburn hair short. The most noticeable feature about Wanda McFalls was her 4.0 grade point average, which threatened most boys and thus made things even more difficult for her to enjoy any sort of love life.

Even with all those strikes against her, however, she seemed to be a good match for Harvey. She was, in many ways, a female version of Harvey, who at 5 foot 9 and weighing 185 pounds, was somewhat burly himself. His school clothes consisted mostly of jeans and a shirt, and he kept his dark hair short. He had no double chin, but his frame suggested he might sport one before too long. Although he and Duane gave the girls a good time at Pecker Point, Harvey had practically zero social skills. His goal at Pecker Point didn't include talking with the girls; he only wanted to get physical with them.

So, like Wanda, Harvey fit the description of shy, quiet, only marginally attractive – and untouched.

Harvey admitted he asked Wanda to the dance because there weren't all that many choices left. Wanda's name appeared near the bottom of the popularity list, and so did Harvey's. "We deserve each other," he told Duane. "I thought I should go on one date, one real date, before I graduate, and Wanda is my last chance. I'm kind of sorry for her."

Even though they had gone to school together from kindergarten through the 12th grade, Harvey and Wanda didn't know each other well. They were invisible members of the student body, the only exception being Wanda's high scholastic achievements.

So Harvey spent the week leading up to the dance worrying about whether he had made a big mistake, and wondering whether he should call the whole thing off. He ignored his better judgment, however, and decided he would stick with Wanda regardless of the consequences. Then he worried whether that was a mistake, and the whole torturous cycle began anew.

"I can't dance. Not a single step, and I don't know how to talk to a girl," he said to Duane. "This is going to be the biggest male-female disaster in history. Years from now relationship counselors will be citing this date as the tipping point that drove the Battle of the Sexes out of control."

"Two words," Duane said. "Cherry vodka."

"You think so?"

"Look, you and I both know nobody goes to this dance to dance. They go to one, make an obligatory appearance at the dance, and two, to go out and get drunk, and three, most important of all, to get laid, and the same thing goes for the girls as well as the boys."

Harvey snorted.

"I cannot, in my wildest and craziest dreams," he said, "conceive of a situation in which Wanda McFalls would want to get drunk and get laid."

●●●

Duane had been right about one thing. Harvey and Wanda made a brief obligatory appearance at the dance graduation night before they headed straight for Pecker Point.

Harvey thought Wanda was stunning in her black ruffle dress; complemented by her dark hair, which had waves and curls he had never seen before. She wore makeup for the first time in his memory. The corsage of pink carnations he gave her and she wore on her wrist made for a classy touch. Had he misjudged her, he wondered.

"I love your dress. You're so pretty tonight." Harvey had gone online and found an article about things to say on a first date. Knowing what to say and how to say it are two different things, however, and Harvey thought what he said sounded phony and stupid. "I love your dress" seemed to him to be something a woman might say to another woman. Thank god it's dark and she can't see my red face. The ironic part was that he meant what he said. Regardless, he decided he wouldn't use any more of those canned lines.

"Thank you, Harvey. I'm so glad to be your date."

●●●

"Ever been to Pecker Point?"

Harvey had parked his car off the main road in an area hidden by tall cottonwood trees. He was trying hard to sound casual and relaxed. They had decided not to go to the unofficial graduation party, which was taking place in a clearing the size of a soccer field about a hundred yards down the road. Most of their classmates would be on hand, but Harvey and Wanda had no interest in big parties.

"No," Wanda said in answer to Harvey's question. "No, but I've heard some of the girls talk about it."

Harvey was dying to know what the girls had to say about Pecker Point, named after Harold Pecker, a now-deceased rancher who donated the land to the county. Harvey didn't want to put any pressure on Wanda, however, so he kept quiet.

"Many of them say this is where they lost their virginity."

Harvey gulped. His brain froze.

"Of course, I think they're exaggerating. A lot of girls like to brag about that sort of thing, just like boys do. I don't pay much attention to them."

Harvey took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Wanda continued.

"I will admit I'm a little nervous being here – oh, I don't mean about losing my virginity. Only I've never been with a boy before. I've never even had a date before." She stopped and waited for Harvey to say something. She apparently thought she had dropped a bombshell. An 18-year-old girl who has never had a date? Harvey, however, was too busy processing what seemed to be an admission she was a virgin. When he didn't respond, she said, "How about you? Ever had a date, I mean."

"Oh, well, yeah, sure, lots of them," he lied.

"I'm jealous, but not surprised," Wanda said.

Harvey took a deep breath and shook his head.

"No, I'm kid – I ... I mean I – No, I mean, not."

"Is that a yes or a no?"

"No, I mean, not a real – no, not." He paused to let his jumbled brain settle down.

"Would you like a drink?"

She gave a little laugh. "I've never had a drink in my life."

"That's like me," Harvey said. "I've never had a date in my life. Not a real one. Till tonight, of course. A first for both of us, huh?"

"Yep. Amazing."

"So you've never had a drink? Are you kidding? In your life?"

"Not kidding."

"Oh."

"But you go ahead. Maybe I'll take a sip of yours."

"Oh. OK." Harvey reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a pint bottle. "Two words. Cherry vodka," he said, almost laughing at his private little joke.

"How did you get that? Just curious."

"Oh, pretty easy to find a bootlegger." He paused. "Well, uh, we usually mix this with 7-Up©. Sometimes Sprite©. You can't drink this stuff straight." He leaned over into the backseat, opened a small cooler and grabbed a glass and a can of 7-Up.

"I'm impressed. You're so sure and confident about something I know absolutely nothing about."

Harvey had no idea what she was talking about. How to find a bootlegger? How to mix a drink? How to seduce a girl on her first date? He rooted for the latter.

"This car is kind of a motorized bar tonight," he said with a nervous smile and a little chuckle from the back of his throat. He added "tense" to "nervous" in his description of his current state of mind. He hoped the cherry vodka would relax him, and, more important, her.

He mixed the drink, took a sip and offered her the glass. "Go ahead. You only live once."

"Oh, OK, might as well. How often do you graduate from high school?" She took the glass and drank.

"Wow. Good. I'm surprised." She took another drink, a bigger one this time.

"I lettered in mixology," Harvey said. Wanda laughed.

"Why did you ask me to the dance?"

Harvey stopped breathing for a second. The word blindsided flashed through his mind.

"Not a fair question, sorry," Wanda said. "I'm glad you asked. I am. I've always thought you, well, you always spoke to me, said hi in the hallway, never stuck up or condescending or anything. I realize what a tiny thing, I mean, you'd be surprised how many people, guys and girls, thumb their noses at you if you're not part of their clique. But not you, and that's why I liked you. In secret, of course, because I doubt you had a clue. I sort of had this crush on you, and I hoped you would ask me to the dance. But wow, what competition I had, so many other girls who are prettier than I am, more popular than I am, more ... experienced than I am. Oh, this isn't coming out right. Sounds like I'm fishing for a compliment or something, and I'm not. I'm only trying ... "

"No, you're fine, you're fine. I gave it some thought before I asked you to go to the dance with me. I did. I asked you – and this is the truth – I asked you because we are so much alike, you and I. Don't you think? For example, neither one of us is particularly social, which is a fancy way of saying neither of us has ever had a date. So I thought if we went to the dance together, we would kill two birds with one stone. Also, we both are kind of shy and quiet. Not kind of, hell, we are shy and quiet. Maybe we're slow to mature, I don't know, or else we haven't met the right people, or the right person, yet. For one thing, we tend to speak in sentences, or incomplete sentences, instead of paragraphs. Ha. Listen to me. Here I am; speaking in a way-too-long paragraph. A rare aberration, however. Here is something else I've noticed about us: we both bow our heads and sneak out of a room when it becomes too crowded, or we walk straight to the corner of the room and stand with our backs to the wall. Am I right? Have you noticed? The only thing that make us different from each other is you stand out from the crowd scholastically, whereas I fall somewhere between mediocre and six-feet-under. What I'm saying is, I thought the two of us would have a good time."

Wanda took a long drink.

"That was a perceptive analysis, Harvey, but, you know, the only reason I got good grades is I had nothing better to do than study. I spent my school years with my nose in a book, and although I love learning, I envy you. You spent your years living in the real world. I spent my years daydreaming and fantasizing. You spent yours learning how to cope. I was too sheltered and shy to do that. Already tonight, though, I've found out one thing: I love to listen to you talk." She paused and turned toward Harvey.

"Will you give me my first kiss?" Her hazel eyes, which already had a faint cherry-vodka-induced glow, sparkled with longing.

Harvey hesitated for just the right amount of time – not too long so as to make her think he wasn't sure he wanted to kiss her; not so quickly she would think he considered her an easy mark; just enough time to show her he not only wanted to kiss her, but he also wanted the kiss to be authentic, gentle and filled with passion. Harvey pulled her as close to him as the bucket seats would allow. He brushed his lips over her cheek and paused before he whispered, "Yes." Her lips were so soft, so warm, like nothing he had ever felt. They kissed long, letting their lips get acquainted first, then going harder and deeper until their tongues found and explored each other.

"Let's get in the back," Harvey said when they paused to take a breath, "so we can get closer to each other."

"Yes, let's," Wanda said.

#  Chapter 2

### The Full-Slip Girdle

"Do you want your own drink this time?" Harvey started to reach for the cooler.

"No," Wanda said. "I want you." She pushed him back into his seat and nearly climbed on top of him. She cupped her hands around his face and kissed him. Again, and again, and again. For the second time in the span of a few minutes Wanda had blindsided him, and even though her amorous ambush shocked, confused and almost paralyzed him, it also convinced him he was a 10-foot-tall stud, the sexiest man in the world.

One minute he imagined crowds of adoring women cheering and applauding him, tossing rose petals in his path and calling out his name; the next minute he crouched in a dark, cold, musty cellar, alone, unsure what to do, and frightened.

Although Ecstasy and Confusion seemed like such an odd match, because of Wanda's unexpected attack they had managed to emerge from deep within him. To Harvey, the pairing of those two contradictory conditions made no sense, but at this moment they sat arm in arm, humming along in his veins like an old married couple.

Harvey had been in the backseat with girls before, but Wanda not only earned the honor of being the first girl to be the aggressor, she distinguished herself by being an aggressor of uncommon ferocity. Ecstasy!

This is Wanda McFalls? The shy, quiet little virgin who has never had a date? This is a dream, he thought, a fantasy. Her sudden assault left him stunned. Confusion!

What message is she sending me? What is she leading up to? What are we doing anyway? What's the word I'm groping for? Foreplay! Of course. Foreplay is the smoke; after-play is the fire. After-play here I come!

Ecstasy!

Harvey had to act fast. He could already feel the window of opportunity closing. He feared the after-play might be over ... prematurely. Meanwhile, Wanda was not letting up. Not. One. Little. Bit. If anything, she seemed to be ramping up. She tore into him like a wild animal who had not eaten in ... her life.

This is scary. A couple of virgins fumbling around in total darkness. This has all the earmarks of a disaster. I mean, what do I do now?

Confusion!

He finally decided to fight hormones with hormones. He let his hand slide down her back, over her rump and around to the front, which, in his experience – and no doubt in Wanda's experience as well – had always been No Man's Land.

Something seemed horribly wrong, however.

He had expected to find a softness. That's where he had planned to start his counterattack, to send waves of ecstasy through the gentle folds of her dress and panties. Then, when he had her warmed up, which he figured would take less than a second, he would reach under her dress and move up to the well of eternal enchantment. What he encountered, however, did not qualify in the least as soft. Rather, something more like a shield stood in the way. Hard. Resistant. Impenetrable. No entry allowed. He searched for another avenue. Up. Down. Right. Left. No luck.

I'm sure I'm in the right spot. I'm sure this is where I'm supposed to be.

His only option? Cut to the chaste. He grabbed the hem of her dress and started up the straight road home, but the trip lasted only a couple of inches, stopped short by the damn shield again. Worse, he now had only a few seconds before everything would be all over for him.

Then, without warning, Wanda backed off from her frontal assault, and Harvey's runaway buckboard came to a jolting halt.

Their heavy breathing prevented conversation for several seconds.

"It's a girdle," Wanda said at last. She lifted herself off Harvey and leaned back into her seat with a long sigh.

"A girdle?"

"A full-slip girdle."

"Well, what ... how then ... I mean ... what ... how – "

"I'm sorry. I'm fat. With a girdle I don't seem so fat. I wanted to look as sexy as possible for you. I didn't think ... I don't know. All my fault. I'm so stupid. Stupid, naïve and fat." She tried to hold back the tears, but she couldn't.

Harvey took her in his arms, and she laid her head on his chest. "You are not fat. You are not stupid and naïve either." He kissed the top of her head.

"Hey, would you like to go for a walk? I'll show you a cool little trail down to the river. Not far. We'll talk about life and the universe, and little bunnies and ice cream cones. Whaddya say?"

She lifted her head off his chest and looked at him. "I say I got your shirt all wet."

●●●

Harvey took Wanda's hand as they walked along the trail. A bright summer moon unfettered by clouds lighted their way.

From time to time they could hear music and the shouts of graduating seniors celebrating the end of their high school days.

"Harvey, I'm sorry I came on so strong," Wanda said. "Not sure what came over me."

"First of all, will you please stop apologizing to me? You've nothing to be sorry about." He gave her a big grin. "You did kind of blindside me, though. Which does not mean I didn't have a good time. I had a good time, believe me."

"You'd like an explanation though, wouldn't you?"

"Well, I wouldn't use the word 'explanation.' The word has such unpleasant memories for me. Didn't your parents ever demand an explanation for something you said or did?"

"Many's the time, OK, then, might you be interested in why I did what I did? Attack you the way I did?"

"Attack me? You're using all the wrong words. If what you did was an attack, I would love for you to work your real magic on me."

Wanda laughed. "Whatever," she said. She paused. "This is going to be difficult for me, but I want to say this to you." She drew in a deep breath. "When you asked me – "

"Oh God! Oh Duane! Yes!"

A woman's voice came from somewhere off the trail. Harvey squeezed Wanda's hand, and they stopped walking.

"Shh. That has to be my buddy Duane. Duane Wesley," Harvey whispered. "He's the only Duane in our class. You know him, don't you?"

"Yes, of course."

"Yes, Duane, yes!" the woman in the bushes cried.

Harvey turned to the direction the cries were coming from and cupped his hands around his mouth.

"Duane!" he bellowed. "You're in the poison oak area!"

"Oh shit!" came another cry from the bushes, this time from a male voice.

"That's him!" Harvey whispered. "Let's go!" They ran down the trail as fast as they could, trying with only moderate success to stifle their giggles.

When they figured they were a safe distance away they stopped to catch their breath.

"You," Wanda gasped, "are an evil person. A fun and a funny person, maybe, but evil just the same." She paused for more air. "Is that true? Is there really a poison oak area there?"

"I have no idea," Harvey said.

They laughed so hard they had to hold each other to keep from falling. When they finally stopped, they kissed, long and with passion.

"Where did we leave off?" Harvey asked.

"Who cares?" Wanda said. "We're here now, right where we should be." They kissed again.

Overhead, the stars, without being prompted, gave them a glowing review.

●●●

Five minutes later they took off their shoes and stood on what the kids called the "beach," a mile-long strip of sand along the Missouri River. Moonbeams were bouncing off the swirls and waves in the water.

"The moon and the river. What a creative combination," Wanda said. "They're giving us our own personal light show."

"Yep," Harvey said. He dug his toes into the warm sand. They sat down on a log that had washed ashore and gazed out over the water in silence.

"Interesting," Harvey said finally. "We've been acquaintances all our lives and never paid much attention to each other until tonight."

"Better late than never," Wanda said. She smiled at him, and he could see her teeth sparkle in the moonlight. They fell silent again, but the sexual tension between them crackled in the night air.

"Harvey, back to my lovemaking fantasies?"

"OK. I'm with you."

"Here's what I meant to say to you before we caught Duane in the poison oak patch. From the age of 11 or 12 up to the present moment, I've been horny as hell."

Harvey gulped.

"OK. Here's a suggestion: why don't you come right out and say what you mean? Why wait until a bush comes along and then beat around the damn thing?" She laughed.

"Yes, I'm well aware I'm too direct sometimes. A failing of mine. Anyway, when you asked me if I would go to the dance with you, I almost exploded."

He looked at her and smiled.

"Define 'exploded,' " he said.

"Well, for the first time in my life I was going to be with a boy, hopefully alone with a boy, maybe even in the backseat of his car, and I got this bonus – you. Because I liked you, from afar, yes, but I've always liked you. So when we climbed into the backseat, I exploded. I was out of control.

"I didn't want to wait until I was married. What if I never got married? All my post-puberty life all I've ever wanted was to fall in love and lose my virginity, and not necessarily in that order. Don't worry, I'm not talking about you and me. It's way too early for us to talk about love, but not too early to talk about making love, right?

"I mean, we're adults now, aren't we? Does all this make me sound like some sort of sex addict? How can you be a sex addict when you've never made love? Then I had to go and put on that stupid, stupid, stupid full-slip girdle."

She paused.

"Are you through?" Harvey asked.

"Boy, am I ever. Through. Finished. Done. I'm going to die a virgin."

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Harvey said.

Wanda's head snapped up, and she stared wide-eyed at him. She put her arms around his neck and gave him a long kiss.

●●●

"OK then, what about the girdle?"

"What about it?" .

"Well, it seems to be in the way."

"Harvey, it's not glued on. It's a slip. Removable like any other piece of clothing."

"Wouldn't you have to take your dress off first?"

"Yes, of course."

"But then when you took your girdle off you'd be completely naked."

Wanda's mouth dropped open.

"You got a problem with that? You talk like that's a bad thing. You sure you know how this lovemaking thing works? Look, I won't be completely naked. I'll be wearing my watch. Will that help?"

"Well, then, why didn't you take your girdle off at the time? You'd be an ex-virgin by now. Several times over, even."

Wanda took another deep breath. "Because the moment was all wrong. I was so appalled, even ashamed, at the way I attacked you ... yes, attacked you, like you were a piece of meat or something."

Harvey's mouth fell open.

"You got a problem with that? You talk like that's a bad thing. You sure you know how this lovemaking thing works?"

Once again they laughed so hard they had to hold on to each other before they fell down. When they regained control they danced barefoot in the sand to the sound of the music still audible from the graduation party.

They both knew what was going to happen.

"Promise me you won't laugh," Harvey said.

"Why would I laugh?"

"Well, we've been laughing a lot tonight, and somebody – Woody Allen? – said making love is the most fun you can have without laughing."

"I promise not to laugh. I would hate to ruin all our fun." They laughed.

Hand in hand, nervous, excited and full of wild anticipation, they walked with a determined and hurried step up the path to Harvey's car.

#  Chapter 3

### The Gunshots

"Would you do the honors?" Wanda turned her back toward Harvey, and he unzipped her dress. She slipped out of it and tossed it like an old dust rag into the front passenger seat.

In the darkness, the solid-black girdle seemed like an ordinary, tight-fitting dress that reached from the built-in bra down to a couple of inches above the knee.

"Next time why don't you just wear that? Very sexy."

Wanda couldn't quite bring herself to laugh, but she managed a smile.

"I'll be honest. I'm kind of nervous, and a little scared."

"Guess what?"

"What?"

Harvey swallowed. "You aren't the only virgin in this car."

"Are you kidding?"

"Nope."

"C'mon."

"Nope."

"I figured you had at least a dozen, if not more."

"Only in my dreams."

"Oh my god," Wanda said with a laugh. "We're a couple of neophytes!"

"Yeah, but I think if we work together we can figure this out. It's not rocket science."

"Working together seems like a splendid idea. I'll certainly try to do my part. "

Wanda leaned over and kissed him. What sounded like firecrackers over at the graduation party cut the kiss short.

"Why do fireworks explode every time you kiss me?" Harvey said.

"You smooth-tongued devil. You're trying to get into my girdle."

He laughed. "I already tried. Didn't work. Your girdle doubles as a chastity belt."

Wanda paused. "We're making jokes because we're nervous."

"Yeah, you're right." Harvey gazed out the open car window at the moon. "Tell you what."

"What?"

"How about we not force things? How about we cuddle up and talk a little and let things happen naturally? I bet before the night is over you wouldn't find a single virgin in this whole entire car."

"What a grand idea. One question, though."

"What?"

"I hope you remembered a condom."

" 'I hope you remembered a condom' is not a question, but I did indeed remember one. Right here in the cooler."

"You keep your condoms in a cooler?"

"Of course, doesn't everybody?" He waited until Wanda stopped laughing. "Most guys keep a condom in their wallet, right in with the dollar bills. And most guys never use the condom for the same reason I never used mine – no opportunity to do so. Anyway, after a year or two, a telltale little circle appears on the outside of the wallet." Harvey lowered his voice, as if he had an important secret to reveal. "The condom is trying to push its way out. The little circle tells the world this guy never had any luck with the ladies. Personally, I like to flash my wallet around, to prove to the guys I'm a real stud." He paused. "I only hope they never look in my cooler."

"Did you make that whole story up?"

The wail of sirens cut their conversation short. .

●●●

From their vantage point off the main road, Harvey and Wanda counted the flashing lights of four state patrol cars as they passed by, obviously headed to the graduation party. The fifth vehicle was an ambulance, followed by two more police cars and a second ambulance.

"My god, what's going on?" Wanda asked.

"Well, sending ambulances in means it's something serious."

"I can't stand not knowing what's going on."

"We'll find out soon enough," Harvey said, unaware how prescient his comment would soon turn out to be.

Fifteen minutes later both ambulances went by, red lights flashing, apparently on their way to a hospital. A police car followed close behind, but stopped at the entrance to Pecker Point and blocked the road. The cops wanted to keep out the rubberneckers who monitor the police radio, while at the same time keeping the partygoers in so they could talk to each of them.

"Guess we're stuck here for a while," Harvey said.

"And what lousy timing," Wanda, still in her girdle, said in a voice one part sarcasm, one part disgust, one part frustration, and 10 parts disappointment.

"Suppose there was a fight and somebody got hurt?" Harvey asked.

"Or somebody got sick and passed out?"

Harvey shrugged. "Doesn't seem likely they would call in two ambulances and all those patrol cars for somebody who got drunk and passed out."

"Yeah."

They fell silent for a minute.

"I wonder. These graduation parties seem to get wilder every year," Wanda said. "The cops might be under pressure to do something about the underage drinking, drugs, car wrecks, everything. This might be a raid."

"Still doesn't account for the ambulances."

"Yeah."

They fell silent again.

"You think somebody drowned in the river?" Harvey asked.

"Definite possibility."

Another silence.

"I'm thinking," Wanda said. "Remember the lie you told earlier – every time I kissed you, fireworks exploded?"

Harvey leaned forward and grabbed the back of the front seat. "The firecrackers," he said, his eyes wide. "Of course, I bet you're right! At this distance from the party – "

"Gunshots sound like firecrackers," Wanda said.

"Exactly! Somebody got shot. Wanda, you're as brilliant as you are beautiful!"

"What a terrible thing to happen, though. Who got shot? Must be somebody we know, as well as the person who did the shooting. Makes me sick."

Harvey cradled her in his arms. "Yeah, but we can't be sure about anything. We're only guessing what happened." He closed his eyes and rocked her back and forth, as if he was comforting a child or trying to put her to sleep. "We are OK," he whispered. "Something to be grateful for.."

●●●

A vehicle came toward them on the gravel road leading from the graduation party. When it got closer they recognized it as a county sheriff's patrol car.

Except it wasn't acting like the other police cars they had seen that night. This car was creeping along the road, and the sound of tires crunching the gravel was getting louder the closer it came.

"What's going on?" Wanda asked. Harvey released her from his embrace, and she turned around and stared out the window just as the patrol car aimed its spotlight into the trees surrounding Harvey's car.

"Get down!" Harvey whispered. He pushed her to the floor. The patrol car had stopped directly beside them, no more than 40 feet away.

Harvey couldn't tell what was happening with the patrol car, but he had no trouble understanding what the sheriff's deputy said on the bullhorn.

"This is the Neehawk County Sheriff's Office. The occupants of the blue car are ordered to exit the vehicle and come out slowly with your hands above your head. You have 20 seconds to comply – starting now!"

"I'm going," Harvey whispered. "You follow me when I go out my door, but stay low and go down to the river as fast as you can. They won't be able to spot you because the car is blocking the light."

"Are you crazy?" Wanda said in a loud whisper. "I'm going with you." She flung open her door and was out of the car before he could stop her.

"Damn!" he said. He pulled the bottle of cherry vodka out of the cooler, but hesitated when he noticed the condom. He slipped it into his wallet and got out of the car. He tossed the vodka as far as he could into the brush. Then he walked with Wanda into the spotlight, and both raised their hands over their heads.

"We're coming," Harvey shouted. "Don't shoot!" His voice cracked and "shoot" came out in two syllables – "shoo-ooot!" – with the second syllable about three notes higher than the first. He wanted to kick himself.

Two deputies, one a woman, awaited Harvey and Wanda. Both deputies had their guns drawn, but holstered them so they could frisk the "suspects."

"He's clean," the male deputy said after he patted down Harvey.

"Please note this young lady is dressed only in a full-slip girdle," the female deputy said. "Impossible to do a thorough pat-down."

"Oh!" Wanda said. "I completely forgot."

"Forgot what?"

"What I was wearing. We were ... going to go for a swim, then you guys came along and ... and when you said 'come out with your hands above your heads' I was so scared and everything ... and we only had 20 seconds. So I completely forgot what I was wearing."

"Sure, honey," the female deputy said. "What I don't understand is why you are wearing a heavy full-slip girdle on such a hot, muggy night. Makes no sense. Well, no matter." The deputy shook her head. "I don't suppose you have any identification on you? "

"Not on me, no, ma'am. It's in the car. In my purse. I can get it for you."

"We will search your car in a minute. We can get it then."

After the other deputy ran a check on Harvey's driver's license, they all walked down to Harvey's car. They ran a check on his license plate and made a quick search of the car.

The female deputy check out Wanda's driver's license. Then she handed Wanda her dress. "Here, put this on," she said.

"Yes ma'am, thank you." The deputy shook her head again as she watched Harvey zip up the back of Wanda's dress.

"I wonder why you have a cooler in the backseat with nothing in it but 7-Up," the male deputy said to Harvey.

"Well, sir, as your partner said, it's a hot, muggy night."

"Good answer. I suspect the truth lies somewhere in the bushes around here, but I'm not going to take the time or the trouble to search. Neither one of you seem like you've been drinking."

"No, sir," Harvey lied. A wave of relief coursed through him.

"OK," the deputy said. "Are you two aware of what happened here tonight?"

"Here, sir?" Harvey said. He pointed to the ground. "You mean right here?"

"Pecker Point. Are you aware of what happened in Pecker Point tonight?"

"No, sir," Harvey said. "Well, we were aware of the graduation party down the road, but we don't know why all the police and the ambulances came, no sir."

"What time did you arrive at Pecker Point tonight?"

Harvey glanced at Wanda. "Well," he said, "the graduation ceremony started at seven, lasted a couple of hours or so, then all the hand shaking and hugging and congratulations afterward. So ... probably about 9:30 when we left. I would say we got here around 10 p.m., wouldn't you say, Wanda?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Did you go straight to the party and come here later?"

"No, sir. We didn't go to the party at all. We came straight here."

"You're saying you did not go to the graduation party at all, correct?"

"No sir, we did not go to the party at all."

"No, sir," Wanda said.

"I'm curious," the deputy said. "Tonight might be the last time you will ever see many of your classmates. Why would you not want to join them?"

"Because we are not party animals," Wanda said. "Harvey and I have known each other all our lives. We have been classmates through all 12 years plus kindergarten. Only a few of our classmates can make that claim. Plus, Harvey and I like each other. We like each other a lot, and we wanted to spend this evening together. Alone."

Both deputies nodded. "I can understand," the female deputy said.

"I asked the question," the deputy said, "because your name, Mr. Holloway, came up during police interviews with some of your classmates at the party."

"What?" Harvey said. His back stiffened, his stomach clenched, and he knitted his brow. "In what context?"

"There was a shooting at the party tonight. I can't give you any of the details at this point."

A high-pitched whine rang in Harvey's head, and his legs grew weak. What is happening, he wondered, but everything was gauzy and out of reach.

"Harvey has been with me every second tonight," Wanda said, anger rising in her voice. "We were nowhere near the party at any time."

"I'm sorry," the deputy said. "I can tell you the alleged gunman is in custody. I didn't mean to imply Mr. Holloway is a suspect in the shooting. He is not."

"Thank you," Wanda said. She took Harvey's hand, and he began to recover his equilibrium.

"However," the deputy said, "we want you to drive your car down to the scene and remain until we say you are free to go. We will be asking you additional questions later. The entrance to Pecker Point is closed, and no one can enter or leave until we get as much information as possible about what happened here tonight."

"You can't tell me any more about why my name was mentioned?"

"I'm sorry. A suspect is in custody. You are not a suspect in the shooting. This incident obviously is still under investigation. Rest assured everything else will be made clear to you at the appropriate time.

"So please get in your vehicle and go to the scene now. We will be right behind you. Thank you for your cooperation."

●●●

Harvey's hands were shaking when he slid behind the wheel of his car and headed toward the party site. Behind him the deputies' overhead light was slowly revolving, making the patrol car seem like a cat getting ready to pounce on its prey.

"This is so surreal," Harvey said. "Do they honestly need that light on? What, are they taking us to a prison camp or something?"

Wanda laid her hand on his shoulder. "Well, we have done nothing wrong. Nothing. So we have nothing to worry about, as far as I'm concerned."

"But who mentioned my name, and why? We weren't even at the party. Makes no sense. I mean, did you tell anybody you and I were going to the party?"

"No, because we weren't going to the party. We had a date to go to the dance, and some people knew, but I told people we were not going to the party."

"Me too. I don't think a soul was aware we were going to Pecker Point."

Except Duane Wesley.

●●●

Harvey almost slammed on his brakes.

"Oh my god," he said. "Duane."

"What?"

"Duane. I told him we might go to Pecker Point, and when I yelled his name tonight I'm sure he recognized my voice. I mean, Duane is on speaking terms with every molecule in my body. He is the only person who could have mentioned my name to the police."

"Yes, but why would he?"

"I'm not sure, but he told me he was bringing Roseanne Harris here tonight. Roseanne Harris, who recently broke up with Butch Jones, who is a bona fide nutcase."

"You mean ... the kind of nutcase who might carry a gun?"

"I don't want to say this. I don't even want to think this, but Duane might be the one who got shot tonight."

"Oh Harvey, no."

Tears ran down her face. She was still crying when Harvey parked his car at the clearing with all the police lights flashing.

"Here's the thought we have to cling to," Harvey said. "If Duane was the person who mentioned my name to police, we gotta believe he's still alive."

#  Chapter 4

### The Crime Scene

"Amazing," Harvey said as he took in the scene at the graduation party.

About 30 parked cars formed a horseshoe on the grassy clearing. The flashing police lights lit up the area like a football field during a night game. Teenagers, most of them Harvey and Wanda's classmates, gathered in small groups sprinkled around the horseshoe. Some sat on car hoods; others milled about, but no one would think a party was going on. The teens did not tell jokes, laugh, smile, shout, sing school songs or cheer. They talked in hushed tones, their faces serious, their eyes, at times full of tears, cast downward.

The police – the Neehawk County Sheriff's Office and the Nebraska State Patrol – went from group to group. They questioned the kids; they scribbled notes and checked drivers' licenses. On one side of the field, in a small area cordoned off by the police, three beer kegs and countless bottles of liquor sat in mute testimony to a spirited party gone sour.

At the open end of the horseshoe a CRIME-SCENE-DO-NOT-ENTER tape spread across what Harvey recognized as the head of another trail down to the river.

"Must be where the shooting took place, somewhere down the trail," Harvey said, almost to himself.

"C'mon, let's go find out what happened." They got out of the car, but hardly took a step before the deputies stopped them.

"Mr. Holloway, Miss McFalls," the female deputy said. "Sheriff Murphy would like to talk to you a minute. Please come with me." Fear bubbled up in Harvey's chest again.

The sheriff himself, not one of his deputies, wants to talk to us.

The deputy led them to a patrol van set up as investigation central. They sat on leather seats lining the side walls of the van, and Sheriff Murphy, tall, silver-haired and grandfatherly, greeted them.

"I'm Neehawk County Sheriff Ed Murphy," he said. "I want to ask you a few questions. I won't keep you long, and you can be on your way." He sat down at a small writing table and picked up a pen.

"Sir, did Duane Wesley get shot here tonight?" Harvey asked.

The sheriff gave Harvey a smile.

"That isn't how this works, son," he said. "I ask the questions. You answer them. Now let's start over."

"Sorry, sir. Duane is my best friend, and I'm worried sick about him. I sure hope he's OK."

The sheriff rubbed his chin. He peered at the table top for a second, then raised his head and adjusted his glasses.

"Duane is going to be OK." He smiled again. "And that's the last question I'm going to answer. Understood?"

"Thank you, sir. Thank you. Understood."

"OK. Deputies Corrigan and Finley reported you arrived at Pecker Point at about 9 p.m. Correct?"

"Uh, no sir. I believe we said about 10 p.m. Didn't we, Wanda?"

"Yes, 10 p.m."

"OK. Did you go directly to the graduation party?"

"No, sir, we didn't go to the party at all. We went to the spot where your deputies found us. We never left the spot with my car, until now, of course."

"You didn't move your car until Deputies Corrigan and Finley brought you here?

"Yes, sir. Correct."

"Did you go anywhere on foot prior to the time the deputies contacted you?"

"Yes sir, we walked down to the Missouri River."

"About what time?"

"I'm guessing about 10:30, do you think, Wanda?"

"Well, sounds about right. About half an hour after we arrived."

"How long did you stay at the river?"

"Not long – 15-20 minutes." He turned to Wanda. "Right?"

"Right."

"Then what did you do?"

"We walked back to the car."

"Did anything unusual happen during your walk, either down to the river or back up to your car?"

Harvey and Wanda exchanged glances.

"Uh," Harvey said.

"Yes, we heard something as we were going down to the river," Wanda said.

"What happened?"

"Uh," Harvey said.

"I don't think I would call what happened unusual, no," Wanda said. "How we became aware of what happened, yes."

The sheriff blinked. "Excuse me? I don't follow you."

"Well, a couple making love in the bushes is not unusual, especially at an event like a high school graduation party. What's unusual is how we became aware of this couple making love in the bushes."

"OK. The event you became aware of, in what direction from you did it occur?"

"I'm no good on north-south," Wanda said, "but I would say in the general direction of the graduation party."

"Can you estimate the distance between you and this couple when you became aware of them?"

"Oh, gosh," Wanda said. "I'm not sure. Harvey?'

"Uh," Harvey said.

"Make an educated guess," the sheriff said. "Ten feet? Twenty feet?"

"Oh, way more than 20 feet," Wanda said. "I'm thinking about a football field, and I would say 20 yards, even 30 yards."

"You sure? Thirty yards is quite a distance. How are you able to identify their activity at such a distance?"

"Easy, sir," Wanda said.

Sheriff Murphy rubbed his chin again.

"Be advised this is a criminal investigation of a serious incident in which two people suffered gunshot wounds. The incident might have been a lot worse. We need to get to the bottom of what happened here tonight, and the answer, 'Easy, sir,' does not move our investigation forward. I realize you might be uncomfortable answering this particular question, but I need you to be more specific."

"No problem," Wanda said. "The girl obviously enjoyed a rather intense sexual experience, and she screamed her partner's name at the top of her lungs. Her voice carried quite well, even at a distance of 30 yards."

"Thank you," the sheriff said. "Can you give me the name she called out?"

"Duane."

"No last name?"

Wanda brought her hand up to cover her smile. "No sir. I think calling out a last name would be highly unusual under the circumstances."

"Yes, I suppose. I had to ask." The sheriff had trouble suppressing his own smile. "If she didn't say his last name, how did you come up with Wesley?"

"Uh," Harvey said.

"As Harvey said, Duane Wesley is his best friend. He's the only Duane in our class, so we figured it had to be Duane Wesley."

"And what, if anything, did you folks do when the young woman ... screamed?"

"Well, then Harvey shouted at the top of his lungs, 'Duane! You're in the poison oak area!' "

The sheriff scanned his notes and rubbed his forehead for a few seconds.

"Then what?"

"We ran down to the river, giggling all the way, I'm afraid."

"You forgot one thing," Harvey said, "and this also goes to the question of how we got Duane's last name."

"What?"

"After I yelled, Duane shouted, quite loudly, 'Oh, shit!' I recognized his voice, and we ran down to the river."

"Oh, yeah, right."

"OK, almost done," Sheriff Murphy said. "Only one more question. Deputy Finley describes the, uh, the only piece of clothing you had on at the time the deputies questioned you, Miss McFalls, as a 'full-slip girdle.' What reason ... how should I say ... what was – "

"Let's just say," Harvey said, "that Wanda had been inspired, as had I, by the sounds from the bushes on this moonlit night. The couple's activity seemed like something we also might enjoy. Unfortunately, the long arm of the law disrupted our plans."

"Well, you are far more fortunate than Duane Wesley and his girlfriend," Sheriff Murphy said.

Harvey bowed his head. Wanda nodded. "Yes, sir," Harvey said. "Yes, we are."

"A final word," the sheriff said. "Don't either of you leave town for at least the next two weeks. I'm certain the county attorney is going to want to talk to both of you about what happened tonight, and here's why." Harvey and Wanda leaned forward.

"It appears from our investigation so far the alleged shooter, Butch Jones, came late and alone to the graduation party looking for Roseanne Harris, who apparently is his ex-girlfriend, and who reportedly came to the party with Duane Wesley.

"Mr. Jones found Mr. Wesley's car, but not Mr. Wesley or Miss Harris. He asked several of your classmates where the couple had gone, to no avail. Mr. Jones became belligerent and accused several of your friends of lying. It appeared Mr. Jones had been drinking, and later he failed a Breathalyzer test.

"Mr. Jones and others heard you, Mr. Holloway, when you shouted at Duane Wesley that he was in the poison oak patch. Mr. Jones then took off running in the direction your voice came from. Three of your male classmates followed him.

"The gunshots occurred approximately 5 minutes later, and your three friends arrived in time to subdue Mr. Jones and detain him until police arrived."

"Oh my god," an ashen-faced Harvey said. "The whole thing was my fault."

"Not hardly. What you did was a freak occurrence. I don't see how you would be legally tied to this incident as an accomplice or anything else."

"I still feel terrible."

"I understand, but no one is going to hold you accountable."

"I can testify it was a spur-of-the-moment thing," Wanda said. "Nothing but a joke, and you two are best friends."

"Used to be."

"Harvey, Duane would never, ever blame you for this. Never."

#  Chapter 5

### 'A Little Talk'

Harvey and Wanda called their parents to tell them not to worry, they would head back to Neehawk as soon as the cops unlocked the gate at Pecker Point, which happened about five minutes later.

"Well, interesting evening, huh?" Wanda said, trying to lighten the mood as they drove along.

No answer. Wanda glanced at him, wondering whether he was too distracted. He stared straight ahead; both hands tightly gripped the steering wheel. She tried to read his expression, but the darkness obscured her view. Finally he spoke.

"Not much fun, however."

"No, not," Wanda said. "No fun at all." She paused. "Harvey, as bad as things seem at the moment, I'm convinced everything is going to turn out all right. Something deep in my bones assures me."

"Thanks, Wanda. Tell your bones I appreciate their concern." He smiled.

"Listen," he said, "I would like to go to the hospital and find out about Duane and Roseanne. Do you want to come along, or is this too late for you?" The clock on Duane's dashboard said 1 a.m.

"No, doesn't matter when I get home. I'm glad you want to go. I figured you would, and I was thinking the same thing."

An unspoken thought dwelled in the back of both their minds, however: lovemaking lost.

Despite their best efforts, they remained virgins, and neither had any idea where the events of the night left them. In the "normal" graduation night they had planned for themselves, they would have made love, moved up a step on the ladder to adulthood, and then most likely gone their separate ways.

Instead, an act of violence brushed up against them by threatening the lives of two of their classmates, one of them Harvey's best friend. They shared the experience, which brought them closer to each other in ways a normal night, even one with first-time lovemaking, would not have had the power to do.

"Harvey?"

"Yes?"

"I hope this isn't inappropriate. I mean, Duane is the first priority tonight, but after we go to the hospital, after we find out about him and Roseanne, I wonder if we might have a little talk?"

Harvey had an idea what she wanted to talk about – the same thing he had thought they probably should talk about.

About them. As in a couple.

Yet, Wanda's question had an ominous ring.

"Harvey Holloway," his mother would say, "I want to have a little talk with you."

A little talk about making love with Wanda would be fine, Harvey thought. A little talk about their relationship, however, was an idea he considered a bit threatening, at least for right now, which was only a few hours into their first date.

To tell Wanda no, however, was something he didn't want to do. For one thing, it would be enormously rude. Meanwhile, she sat next to him waiting for an answer.

"A little talk about what?" His voice threatened to crack.

"What's going to become of us," she said.

She blurted it out, like someone already in love.

What's going to become of us.

To Harvey, the sentence made one thing clear – she wanted to talk seriously about their relationship.

Then he wondered what frightened him so.

He liked Wanda. He hadn't expected he would. His vision of his first girlfriend, or any woman he might eventually connect with, consisted of someone who made the word voluptuous seem tame, whose every movement and every breath exuded heat, a woman with long, dark, lustrous hair down to her shoulders; smooth, radiant skin that glowed; mysterious, bewitching eyes; large, firm breasts; a tall and willowy woman with a shape to inspire artists seeking perfection; and a butt hard enough to crack eggs on.

Wanda, short and with short, dirty blonde hair, a bit overweight with enough of a double chin to make one think she would morph into classic matron in no time, did not fit Harvey's description of the perfect woman. She had ample breasts, but Harvey could see them slewing from side to side someday as she walked. His idea for the graduation party involved nothing more than losing his virginity. Period.

Then they shared this adventure together.

He loved the way she called him crazy when he told her to run from the cops. He loved the way she took over and answered the sheriff's questions.

She, not him, had the balls tonight.

Most of all, he loved her brain. He never thought he would say such a thing about a woman, but she had to be the smartest person he had ever known. Not the smartest woman, the smartest person. He loved the way she talked. She took all of his stupid, teenage, testosterone-fueled notions about women and tossed them in the trash, all in one remarkable night.

So he took the plunge. Headfirst.

"Yes, let's do talk about what's to become of us," he said. He took her hand, and she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

●●●

"Duane Wesley? Treated and released," the nurse at the desk told them. "He had a superficial bullet wound to his left arm."

"Oh wow, good news," Harvey said. "I mean, good he has been released." The nurse smiled.

"How about Roseanne Harris?" Wanda asked.

The nurse had answered the same question what seemed like dozens of times, so she didn't pull up Roseanne's chart on her computer.

"She's listed in serious but stable condition. Gunshot wound to the stomach. You can't visit her now, but check back tomorrow during visiting hours."

Harvey and Wanda walked out of the hospital. Poor Roseanne, Harvey thought. Almost in the blink of an eye, she went from the peak of sexual ecstasy to the depths of a hospital bed. How does such a thing happen, he wondered, and why? Who will be next, and when will it happen? Who makes all these decisions? Harvey had no clue.

What's going to become of us, Wanda had said.

In a minute they would be in his car driving someplace – where? – to talk about -- what? Their future?

How does such a thing happen so fast, he wondered. He and Wanda go from faint acquaintances to would-be lovers in the span of a few hours. Seems impossible. What accounts for such things? Why do they happen? Who makes all these decisions? Harvey had no clue.

The only thing he might be sure of?

Pecker Point would never be the same.

#  Chapter 6

### Unfinished Business

"Well, where to?" Harvey asked. He started the car and let the engine idle as Wanda gave his question some thought.

"They should set aside more places around town for kids to go for a little privacy," she said. She paused. Harvey chuckled.

"Well, I live on a dead-end street," she said. "A vacant house sits at the far end, all by itself with no neighbors, and you can drive around to the back. Nobody would notice us. What do you think?"

"Sounds OK, but ... "

"What?"

"Should we talk first about ... "

"About whether we should pick up where we left off?"

"Exactly," Harvey said.

"I wondered the same thing. What do you think?"

Harvey drew in a deep breath. "I might be wrong, but with Duane and Roseanne having been shot, I don't want to do anything inappropriate, or disrespectful or whatever. For us to go hide somewhere and make love doesn't seem right somehow. Besides, given how you and I got dragged into this whole mess because of my stupid joke, I doubt the magic would happen for us."

"Exactly what I think," Wanda said. She paused. "I can't believe I just said that."

Harvey laughed. "I catch your drift. Well, we will have other chances, other times, other places."

"I sure hope so," Wanda said.

So without saying the actual words, they had agreed to keep seeing each other.

Even if they didn't realize what they had agreed to, however, the seed had been planted. By the time Harvey parked behind the vacant house on Wanda's street and rolled down the car windows, the idea of being more than friends had gained a firm foothold in their minds.

The idea, no matter how firm the foothold, however, did not translate into conversation at first. Instead, Harvey and Wanda endured a long silence.

"Well, we got the awkward silence over with, now what?" Harvey asked.

Wanda laughed. "Good question. We had no problem talking about lovemaking, but now we've temporarily taken it off our agenda, we seem to be at a loss for words."

"Yes. Can you be in mourning for the loss of something you never had to begin with?"

"Well, it seems we can anyway."

"Hmm. Suppose we should climb into the backseat and rethink our decision?"

"Serious?"

Harvey gave a long sigh. "No," he said. "Unfortunately."

More silence.

"Here's what I think," Wanda said. "Since we are completely clueless about each other except we both have this insane desire for making love, ask me something, anything, the stupider, the better. You're familiar with the phrase small talk? Well, why don't we start out with tiny talk? So c'mon, let's go!"

"You're making me laugh. I can't do tiny talk when I'm laughing. It's like sex in that way."

"Whaddya know about sex anyway? Now c'mon!"

"OK." Harvey thought for a moment.

"Hey Wanda. Wanda McFalls, what are you going to do this summer?"

"Perfect! Way to go! Uh, well, I've been working at the city library every summer since I was 14. I'll be doing it again this summer."

"For real? You worked at the library?"

"Yep. Like I said, we are almost completely clueless about each other."

"So what do you do at the library? Read erotic novels?"

"No, I read those novels in my bedroom, under the covers, every night, after my parents have gone to sleep. No, I do everything at the library except read erotic novels. I check out books, help people find what they're looking for, put the returned books back in their proper place. I even write an occasional book review for the Neehawk Daily News."

"For real? You write for the paper? How come I wasn't aware of all this?"

Wanda shrugged.

"Do you enjoy library work?"

"Absolutely love it, but what about you? What are you going to do this summer?"

"Well, guess what? Duane and I are seriously thinking about hiking around Europe."

"No kidding? Wow."

"Yeah. Neither of us has an idea what we want to do eventually, so we thought now might be a good time to do this. My parents, if you can believe this, said they'll stake me."

"Oh, man. So there's nothing to hold you back then?"

"Well, Duane's parents haven't gotten on board with the idea yet – or the money. He's still working on them, though. By the way, speaking of parents, it's almost 2 a.m. Are your parents going to be worried about you?"

"No. I told them it might be sunrise before I got home. A bit of an exaggeration at the time, but now it seems like it might turn out to be true." She paused. "I have an understanding with my parents. They trust me. What about you?"

"Do I trust you? Hell, no."

Wanda punched him in the arm.

"Oh, do my parents trust me, you mean?" Harvey asked.

"And are they going to be worried about you being out so late?"

"C'mon, Wanda, we're 18, almost 19 now; we're high school graduates. We're adults! We missed losing our virginity by a few measly gunshots! We can do what we want." Pause. "Can't we?"

Wanda shrugged. "Yeah, pretty much, anyway."

She laid her hand on his shoulder.

"I do hate these bucket seats," she said.

"Shall we?" Harvey said.

"Let's."

They crawled into the backseat and eased themselves into each other's arms.

"I am so comfortable," Wanda said. She laid her head on his chest and took a deep breath. "I could stay here forever."

A lone street lamp a block away took over as their night light whenever clouds wandered in front of the moon. The damp, still air helped the quiet to be everywhere.

Harvey and Wanda stretched out on the backseat. They lay in silence for some time, content to give their bodies over to each other, to listen to each other's heartbeat, each other's breath, to hold each other close, to be still.

The sexual urges they had at Pecker Point were gone now, but not forgotten, merely replaced by the peace that comes with exhaustion.

"Even though we aren't finished with our game of tiny talk," Harvey said, "I'm wondering. Is this a good time to try to figure out what's going to become of us?"

"No time like the present, but please, can we do it without untangling ourselves, without sitting up straight and looking each other in the eye? I'm under some kind of spell, and I don't want to move."

Harvey's stomach shook with silent laughter; Wanda's stomach got the message and responded in kind. When their dueling abdomens finally calmed down, Wanda continued.

"All I can say, Harvey, is I hope tonight isn't the end for us. I hope we can see each other, at least from time to time, or more often if we want to.

"I think you probably asked me to the dance because everybody else had been pretty much taken, and I'll admit I said yes because you seemed to be my last chance to go on a date. Even though what I told the cops was true. I have always like you. Talk about a virgin. I not only have never been unwrapped, I haven't even been taken out of the crate yet."

The dueling stomachs went at it again for a few seconds.

"But guess what? I had a terrific time tonight, Harvey, despite the dreadful things we had to deal with. I don't even care we didn't make love. Well, I probably shouldn't go so far as to say that, exactly. But it's true, my first date went way beyond everything I had ever imagined. Being with you ... was all I needed." She paused. "OK, I'm done." She smiled at him, and they fell silent for a while.

"I'm thinking," Harvey said, "about those lies you told about yourself at Pecker Point. How you are fat and naïve and stupid, and how other girls are prettier and more experienced, etcetera. At the time, what you said made me so angry. I couldn't believe you would say such untruthful, hurtful things about yourself, and I hated to listen to you say them.

"It occurs to me now, however, that nothing but good came from what you said. I mean, if I didn't care for you, what you said about yourself wouldn't matter to me, certainly wouldn't make me angry at you for saying them. But I do care for you. You matter to me."

The backseat suddenly was lit up by the glare of a powerful flashlight. Wanda jumped and gave a little scream.

"This is Officer Gibson of the Neehawk Police. We got a complaint you folks are trespassing and disturbing the peace. I don't want to arrest anyone, but you're going to have to leave here. I suggest you both go home; it's awfully late."

"Oh, thank you, officer," Wanda said. "I live on this street, just down the block a ways. I was on my way home."

"Thank you," Officer Gibson said. "I'll watch to make sure you get home safely."

Harvey and Wanda moved up to the front seat, and they drove off.

"Damn!" Harvey said. "What is it about you and me and this car and the police?"

"I think we're star-crossed."

"Listen, I'm going to call Duane in the morning and ask if we can get together. You want to come along?"

"Yes!" Wanda said, almost shouting. "Call me."

He stopped in front of Wanda's house. "I will," he said.

Wanda leaned over and gave him a long kiss. Then she took his hand and planted it firmly on her breast.

"A reminder we have some unfinished business," she said.

The police car pulled up behind them. Wanda opened her door and jumped out. "See you tomorrow!" she said. She slammed the car door shut and ran into her house.

Harvey Holloway, still a virgin, drove off down the street, fearful he might be in more trouble with the police before everything was over, but buoyed by the thought, for the first time in his life, he might be falling in love.

Meanwhile, Wanda McFalls crawled into bed. Harvey's words played like a love song over and over in her head, and, as if she were wrapped in his arms, they carried her into a deep and peaceful sleep.

I do care for you. You matter to me.

#  Chapter 7

### Barefoot in the Sand

The night cannot possibly be over, a half-asleep Wanda said to herself when the phone woke her the next morning.

"Are you awake?" Harvey said in a voice far too perky to her liking.

"Define awake. Or call back Thursday. I'll be semi-human by then."

"Sorry. Did I wake you?"

"Oh, no problem. I had to answer the phone anyway."

Harvey groaned. "Did you mean to start your day by telling the world's oldest, and possibly worst, joke?"

"Be nice. I'm suffering from a bad case of the groggies. Time is it?"

"Eight-thirty. Apologies for waking you. I talked to Duane. He laughed when I apologized to him. He thought the poison oak joke was funny, and he laughed at the notion I should take the blame for everything. He and I are OK, like you said, Wanda. Can't tell you how relieved I am."

"Happy news. I'm feeling better already."

"Anyway, he's at the hospital to spend the day with Roseanne, even though her parents will be around too. They are furious at him, as well as embarrassed about everything. I told him we'd come up for a bit, so we can be a temporary buffer between him and her mom and dad. How soon can you be ready?"

"Twenty minutes."

"I'll give you half an hour."

"One thing you should learn about me, Harvey, is when I say 20 minutes, I mean 20 minutes. So get your butt over here."

"Wow. Sounds like you're wide awake now. OK, 20 minutes."

They hung up. Wanda, for no apparent reason, danced her way to the shower.

●●●

Harvey and Wanda approached the hospital security desk just as Roseanne Harris' parents were leaving.

"Good morning," Harvey said. He tried to sound serious but friendly. The Harrises offered him a cool stare in return.

"We got word you would be here," Mr. Harris said. "They allow only three visitors in the room at a time, so we decided to go to breakfast. Please don't stay long, because we'll be back soon, and a lot of family are coming as well."

"No sir, we won't be long," Harvey said. "Thank you."

"Thank you," Wanda said.

The Harrises turned and walked away without a word.

"Ooh," Harvey whispered. "That was cold."

"Icy," said Wanda.

They checked in with the security guard, got their plastic bracelets and headed for the elevator up to Roseanne's room.

●●●

Duane closed the book he had been reading when Harvey and Wanda walked into the room. They had a tentative group hug, careful not to touch Duane's left arm, heavily bandaged and in a sling.

Roseanne was asleep, her face peaceful and pale amid the tubes and wires hooked up to her.

"How's she doing?" Wanda asked in a low voice.

"She's in and out a lot. Right now she's out, obviously," Duane said, "but she's been upgraded to satisfactory."

"Oh, way to go, Roseanne," Wanda said.

"She took one to the stomach?" Harvey asked.

"More to the side, the right side. Went in at an angle and right out again. Didn't hit any vital organs or anything. She lost a lot of blood, but the doctors say she's going to be OK."

"Cool," Harvey said. "So hey, how are you, guy?"

"Oh, I'm fine. Pretty superficial wound, actually."

"Butch Jones. That crazy bastard," Harvey said. "Can you tell us how it happened?"

"Not supposed to, so I'd better not. Thank god for Sheldon, Bull and Jimmy, though, they tackled Butch and held him till the cops came."

"Football jocks to the rescue."

"For sure," Duane said.

"We met Roseanne's parents in the lobby," Wanda said. "Not an especially pleasant moment." She smiled. "I'll bet you had a grand time in here with them, didn't you?"

"Oh my god, you cannot believe the atmosphere in this room. I thought the paint on the walls would blister and peel."

They laughed, then covered their mouths and looked at Roseanne. Still asleep.

"I didn't care," Duane said in a half-whisper. "I had to come in here no matter what." His eyes filled with tears. He turned and walked over to the window.

"It's OK, buddy," Harvey said. He put his hand on Duane's shoulder. "You did the right thing."

Wanda put her arm around him. "We are going to do everything we can to help you and Roseanne get through this," she said. "We love both of you."

Duane turned around and wiped his tears. "Thanks," he said. Another group hug.

"Hi, Wanda," Roseanne said in a faint voice. "Hi, Harvey. Hi, honey."

Hi, Roseanne," Wanda said. "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good. A little weak. Mostly tired. Thank you all for coming. Sorry I can't offer you a cup of coffee and a donut. What a lousy hostess I am."

They laughed. Duane leaned over and kissed her forehead.

"No, on the lips, silly," she said. Duane obliged her.

"You lost a little blood," Wanda said, "but you sure didn't lose your sense of humor."

Roseanne had closed her eyes for Duane's kiss, however, and she had fallen asleep.

●●●

"How about breakfast?" Harvey said to Wanda after they left the hospital. "My treat."

"Such a deal. How can I say no?"

"You can't."

They ate omelets at the Homesick Café and decided to check for any Day Two activity at Pecker Point.

There was nothing to be found, however. No police presence, no beer bottles in the roadside ditch, no curiosity seekers. They held hands and walked down to the river on the trail that Duane and Roseanne had taken the night before. They tried to find the "poison oak patch," but Harvey said nothing seemed "like a good spot to get laid."

"Is there such a thing as a bad spot to get laid?" Wanda asked.

"Apparently so. Ask Duane if you don't believe me. Or Roseanne."

"Good point. Good point."

When they got to the river's edge, they took off their shoes, straddled their favorite log and sat facing each other. The warm, sunny day, featuring a peaceful breeze and the comforting murmur of the Missouri River, seemed like an ideal day for two young lovers.

Except things aren't always as they seem.

"We didn't get very far with our questions for each other last night," Harvey said.

"No, we didn't."

"You said you would be working at the library this summer. So do you have other plans for the fall?"

Wanda bit her lower lip and turned her head.

"Do you do crossword puzzles?" she said, finally.

"What?" Harvey knitted his brow.

"I do them. Every day. I'm passionate about them. Sometimes, though, I run into a clue, or a couple of clues, I can't come up with answers for. So, rather than bang my head against the wall, what I do is put the puzzle away for the day. Then the next morning my brain has figured out all the answers. Happens a lot."

"OK." Harvey spoke slowly, as if he feared he had missed the point. In fact, he had missed the point. "And you're telling me this because..." He trailed off.

"When I went to bed last night I had a couple of questions I had no answers for," Wanda said.

"And when you woke up this morning, you had the answers?"

"Yes. Well, sort of, I did, but then, I also had a couple of new questions I still don't have answers for."

Harvey blinked several times. "Uh, are you going to unravel all this for me so I'll understand what you're talking about?" He smiled to assure her he wasn't angry, or even frustrated. Yet.

Wanda took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She swung her leg over the log so she was facing the river, watched the slow-moving water for a minute, swung her leg back over the log to face Harvey again, and took both of his hands in hers.

"I think I got us off to a bad start last night," she said. "What I did, grabbing you the way I – "

"Listen, you don't – ".

"Don't interrupt me!" She squeezed his hands. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout. I want to say these things, Harvey."

Harvey nodded.

"Can we walk on the beach for a while?" she asked. "Strolling helps me think."

"Sure." Harvey stood up. Wanda started to put on her shoes.

"I'm going barefoot," Harvey said. "I love walking barefoot in the sand."

"Then I will too." She took his hand, and off they went.

"So," Harvey said, "continue."

#  Chapter 8

### A Bad Break

The beach continued for about a mile before giving way to trees and thick brush. Harvey and Wanda paused from time to time to throw a rock into the river or admire the occasional red-tailed hawk overhead.

"So anyway," Wanda said, "yes, I already told you this, but I didn't attack you last night."

"Funny, I could swear you did. Are you sure?"

Wanda ignored the urge to laugh. "I'm sure. Somebody attacked you, yes, but not Wanda McFalls. Her inner devil maybe, but don't blame Wanda herself.

"So I gave it some thought. Thing is, I don't want to make love only because I'm a horny virgin with raging hormones. I want us to do it for the right reason."

"And the reason is... ?"

"I want to go slow. I'm not talking about waiting till I fall in love, or, god forbid, until I get married."

Whoa! The L and M words already. Less than 24 hours into this and already the L and M words, and she's saying 'go slow'? What the... ?"

"I'm only talking about the act of love per se," she said.

Whew!

"I want to ease into lovemaking, not dash headlong into it. I want to whisper into your ear, and you into mine, and not shout into an empty, loveless sky. I want our bodies to meld into each other, molecule by molecule, and not bang into each other like bumper cars. I want us to use our tongues and our hands for caressing, not carousing. I want us to cease all thought when we make love, so we can give ourselves over to each other unconditionally. I want to ascend the mountain to see how high we can get, so the trip down will be long-lasting and luscious. I want it to endure, and not go out like a match in a hurricane."

She wrinkled her nose. "My god," she said. "That stunk, how awful. Sounded like a badly written prepared statement. Well, guess what?"

"Uh," Harvey said.

"Yep, you're exactly right. I wrote the thing last night. Sounded pretty good at the time. Jeez, what crap. I thought green slime must be coming out of my mouth while I talked, but it was too late to stop. I apologize. I'm embarrassed."

"I kind of liked the 'match in a hurricane' line," Harvey said, "and 'bang into each other' too. That's my favorite, actually. I'd keep them both."

"Nah, I'll keep you instead," Wanda said with a smile.

They walked along in silence until Harvey spoke.

"Don't take this as a criticism, but you talked in your prepared statement about the way you want us to make love, and I like what you said. Earlier, though, you said you wanted us to make love for the right reason. You still haven't said what the reason is."

"Yes, and I wish now I'd kept my mouth shut."

"Why?"

"Well... because everything is moving so fast. I'm kind of scared. I mean, this is virgin territory for me, pun intended, and we're not even one whole day into this, and I don't think I should be having the thoughts I'm having – oh, the hell with it – I don't want to scare you off, Harvey... that's the last thing in the world I want to happen."

"Wanda." A little frustration began to creep into Harvey's voice. "Please give me what you think is the right reason you and I should make love. I can guess the reason, but I don't want to guess about something like this."

"I'm trying to tell you!"

Wanda closed her eyes and clenched her fists, the same way she did when Harvey asked her for a date. Something akin to love nudged his heart as he looked at her.

"I think we should make love only if we are ... only if we ... have feelings for each other," she said. "There, I said it, and if you want to run away as fast as you can, well, I wouldn't blame you."

They had stopped walking. Harvey wiped a tear from her cheek.

"Hey, do you remember what I said last night?"

"I'll never forget. 'I do care for you. You matter to me.' "

"Right, and I meant what I said. I do care for you. You do matter to me. Here's what I think, though. You want to go slow when we make love. I'm with you all the way. Well, I want to go slow in building a real relationship with you. Can you agree with me?"

She put her arms around him "Yes," she said. Her voice was like a caress. "Yes."

They swayed back and forth as they kissed, barefoot in the sand, and they gave themselves over to each other. Unconditionally.

●●●

"One question," Harvey said when they uncoupled."

"What?"

"Are you wearing your full-slip girdle today?"

Wanda moved into him, planting her pelvis firmly against his.

"I got news for you, baby. I'm not even wearing panties today. However..."

"However?"

"However, the young virgin, ever the pragmatist, asked, 'Do you have a condom?' "

"So the other young virgin, ever the sly devil, said, 'Yes, when the deputies told us to get out of the car, I cleverly took the cherry vodka out of the cooler and threw the evidence into the bushes. In doing so, I also noticed the condom in the cooler, and that handy little item now resides in my wallet.' "

"The Condom in the Cooler. Great title for a book."

●●●

"Where does one go around here," Wanda asked, "to get a little privacy?"

"Good question," Harvey said. They had come to the end of the beach, foreign territory for both of them. "Let's do a little snooping."

"I don't think either of us is too fussy," Wanda said.

They had gone but a few steps when Harvey, peering through some young cottonwood trees at a small grassy clearing, said in mock awe:

"This was meant to be."

Wanda gave a little whimper. "Ohhh, cue the Walt Disney music."

They wound their way through the trees and into the clearing. The dappled sunlight provided them with cool air and tall, moist grass, perfect for rolling around in.

Harvey grabbed Wanda and pulled her into him. He kissed her, and while his tongue searched for hers, his hands massaged her back and her backside. He loved her softness. Then, as suddenly as he started, he stopped and stepped away.

I want us to go slow, she had said.

"Slow," he said. "Slow and steady wins the race. Easy to say, hard to do."

"Yes, same here, and I'm the one who said slower is better."

"We're nervous – we fear the unknown."

Wanda, as if to show proof, gave a nervous giggle.

"Let's start over," Harvey said.

He moved close to her and unbuttoned the top button of her blouse. He twiddled the button for a few seconds, then walked his fingers up to her chin and finally her nose. He tapped her nose with his index finger, then put his fingers in reverse and backed down to the second button on her blouse. He unbuttoned it and twiddled the button for several seconds. He started to walk his fingers back up to her nose when she grabbed his hand.

"Not quite that slow, Harvey. Speed things up a bit. You're supposed to make love to me, not annoy me. Here, let me show you."

She unbuckled his belt, undid the top button and, cautiously, as if opening the gate to a tiger cage, she unzipped his pants. She reached inside.

"You got no panties on either," she whispered into his ear. Harvey made a high-pitched noise that sounded something like, "No, I don't."

She lingered for a moment before she eased her hands around to his backside and tugged his jeans until they fell down around his ankles.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" she said.

For a nanosecond Harvey considered making a joke, but the time for jokes had passed. Time now to climb the mountain.

They undressed each other and kneeled in the grass to explore each other's body. Harvey cupped his hands over her breasts – simple but marvelous mounds of flesh with such a complex role in human behavior. Her nipples, hard and erect, stood like sentries at the gate to untold mysterious pleasures.

Wanda ran her hands over Harvey's chest, and the skin-to-skin contact sent pulses of electricity through her. Despite his lack of chest hair, touching his naked body exposed her to the essence of the young human male – the hardness, the muscles, the physical strength – for the first time in her life. "You are so strong, like a rock," she whispered, "and so smooth in so many ways."

They lay in the grass, where the joy that needs no laughing and defies understanding swept them up and melded them into each other; their hands slithered, caressed, slid, pressed, grabbed, pushed and pulled, arms and legs twisted, turned, quivered, her soft, wet and waiting, begging now, moaning, whispering, him hard, slipping on the condom, and now now now and searching he slid into her and went deep and deeper deeper until they ceased all thought, ceased all, ceased ... rise and fall, rise and fall, rise and fall until the earth shuddered beneath them and the heavens unfurled, screaming, crying out, reaching until they touched ... God.

Their hearts in unison, their breath in tandem, sweat mingled with sweat in the morning dew. They had no beginning and no end, only the moment.

The slow return to earth began as they lay side by side, eyes closed, trying to capture and keep whatever had happened to them.

"Why did I wait so long?" Wanda said.

"All those years wasted," said Harvey.

They fell silent until Harvey opened his eyes. He sat bolt upright.

"The condom broke!"

The spell, as spells sometimes do, ended with a cataclysmic crash.

Harvey pulled the condom off and dangled it in midair.

"It's not broken," said Wanda. "It's shredded! How long have you had that thing?"

"Since my tenth birthday."

Wanda's mouth fell open. "Are you serious?"

"Yes." He stood up. "Quick, you gotta jump!" He pulled her to her feet.

"Do what?"

"Jump. Jump up and down. I read where you can avoid pregnancy by jumping up and down after making love."

Wanda slapped her naked knee. Her laughter reverberated across the wide Missouri.

"No, I read somewhere. Do you want to get pregnant? C'mon, let's jump."

"Harvey, your sperm is inside me, and jumping up and down is not going to shake those little critters out."

"Who says? You? What's the harm in trying?"

"I'm wet inside, Harvey. I'm lubricated. Once sperm gets in, they stay put. They're stuck, they're stubborn and they ain't gonna leave."

"Stop making fun of me. What if jumping does work? Wouldn't you be sorry if you didn't try and found out later you shoulda listened to me? C'mon, we only have a few minutes before the offer expires. Here, I'll help you."

He took both of her hands. "I'll count to three, and we'll jump, OK? Ready? One. Two, Three!" He jumped. She stood flatfooted.

"Aw, c'mon, Wanda. Humor me, will ya?"

"I'm sorry. I can't," she said before she squelched another giggle.

"OK, how about this. People jump up and down when they're excited, right? Like if they won the lottery, or their favorite football team scored a touchdown and won the game with one second to go, or they made love for the first time in their lives! Like us! I can't speak for you, but I'm so excited I can hardly contain myself. So c'mon, let's jump for joy!"

"Oh, all right," Wanda said. "Since you put it that way."

"Thank you. This is something you won't regret."

"I already have some pre-regrets."

"They don't count." He took her hands again. "I'll count to three, and we'll jump three times. OK, here we go. One. Two. Three!" They jumped three times. Wanda bent over laughing.

"Stop laughing. What's so funny anyway?"

Wanda grabbed her sides. "I hope nobody is filming this. We're like a couple of crazed nymphs. Plus, if you don't stop waving your flag at me, mister – and by the way, you're still at half-staff, in case you hadn't noticed – I'm going to attack you again."

"The only reason I'm at half-staff is you keep flopping your mammary glands at me." Wanda doubled over, and Harvey paused in a vain effort to get his own laughter under control. "Now c'mon, let's do one more set of three, and we're done. OK?"

Wanda straightened up and zipped her lips.

"One. Two. Three!"

Harvey's right ankle popped when he came down on the third jump. He tumbled to the ground and moaned in pain.

Wanda kneeled beside him. "Oh my god, what happened?"

"I landed in a hole or something."

He couldn't stop groaning.

#  Chapter 9

### A Woman Possessed

"I'm sure it's broken," Harvey said as he lay in the sand with his bad ankle propped up on a log.

Wanda had managed to get him dressed and back on the beach, but getting him to the footpath, about a mile distant, and up the path to where he parked his car, seemed daunting.

"No easy way for medics to get here," she said. "I'm not even sure what the possibilities are. Boat? Helicopter? Horseback? Any of those ways would cost an arm and a leg – pardon the expression."

Meanwhile, Harvey's ankle had turned blue and become swollen.

"Why don't you just shoot me?" he said.

"What, you don't want to meet your love-child?"

"Stop it! I'm in enough pain already."

"OK. Well, seriously, what do you think we should do, Harvey?"

"How tough are you?"

"Pretty tough, when called upon."

"Well, there's not much choice except for you to help me all you can. Even if we got as far as the footpath, we would be, well, I'm not sure what we would be, except we would be at the footpath."

"Are you starting to hallucinate?"

"Why do you ask, Sergeant McFalls? All I can say is if we fail to sneak through the enemy lines, our entire battalion will be slaughtered; they'll stand as much chance as a steer at Omaha Steaks. We can't let such a thing happen."

"Yes sir, let's go."

"Yes, let's, and by the way, let's stop calling the trail a foot path, OK?"

So 5 foot 4, 135-pound Wanda McFalls became a human crutch for 5 foot 9, 185-pound Harvey Holloway, and they began the long journey home.

After a while, their rest stops grew longer and more frequent; their progress slowed, and although the walk became harder for both of them, neither complained. From time to time, Harvey soaked his ankle in the cool waters of the Missouri. When he did, Wanda tried to find a shady spot to take a 5-minute power nap.

Shade was infrequent, however, and as the day wore on the beach got hotter and hotter. Thirst became a problem. They finally took a calculated risk and drank the river water. Better to suffer a little gastroenteritis than die of thirst, they figured.

An hours-long walk on the beach also pointed out an indisputable fact: The Nebraska summer sun is no friend of the white man's skin, particularly if the skin is not protected by sunblock. Wanda and Harvey smeared wet sand, or wet mud when available, on their hands, arms and feet, on the backs of their necks and even on their faces. The tops of their feet suffered the worst, and they chided themselves for deciding to go barefoot.

The sight of two mud-encrusted teenagers hobbling step by painful step along the shore of a river might have brought zombies to mind, but Wanda created a different image.

"Are you familiar with the Bataan Death March?" she asked.

Harvey shot a glance at her. Is she kidding or serious? He came to no definite conclusion. "Not as familiar as I'm going to be when our own little Death March is over," he said.

They had tried to use humor to ease the pain when their journey started, but its effectiveness had begun to wear off as the seriousness of their predicament increased. So now, Harvey thought, Wanda had decided to try barbarism as a substitute for laughs.

"I read about the march one slow day at the library last summer," she said. "Not sure why I picked that topic. Might have been the rubberneck syndrome.

"Anyway, I found it fascinating in its own grotesque way, like a bad car wreck, only much worse. Shall I go on?"

"Sure, why not? Nothing like a little human misery to make you forget your foot is about to fall off."

"If you'd rather not –

"Nooo, I'm kidding. Go ahead."

"Well, the march started in April of 1942 after the Battle of Bataan in the Philippines. The Japanese army wound up with 60,000 to 80,000 Filipino and American prisoners of war after the battle, and they wanted to take the prisoners, or I should say march them, to a place called Camp O'Donnell about 80 miles away. I don't remember why they wanted to move those POWs. I guess because... no, I'm not sure.

"Anyway, what happened during the march was horrible, unbelievable."

"I can relate," Harvey said. "I can relate."

"Yes. In fact, after the war was over a military commission concluded Japan had committed a war crime.

"One of the problems was the Japanese army had no idea how to handle so many prisoners. They had no experience doing that sort of thing, and so they had no plans for what to do. They just kind of rounded everybody up and said 'Go!'

"And here's what I found fascinating. The Japanese army, and the Japanese culture at the time, had the belief that any soldier who surrendered had no honor, and so they should not be treated as human beings. They thought of their prisoners as animals or subhuman mongrels, to quote a recent phrase in U.S. news. Anyway, that made the slaughter of so many prisoner a lot easier for them, I guess."

"Some things never change, do they?" Harvey said.

"Nope. And here's the rubberneck part: The prisoners got very little food and water during the march. Many died of heat exhaustion."

"I can relate," Harvey said. "I can relate."

"Wait, things get worse. Prisoners who lagged behind were beaten or stabbed with bayonets. Some Japanese officers on horseback used their samurai swords to behead the prisoners. They even used trucks to drive over prisoners who fell behind."

"Oh, my god," Harvey said.

"Nobody is sure how many prisoners died in the march, but estimates are as many as 10,000 Filipinos and up to 600 or 700 Americans died."

They hobbled along in silence for a while before Harvey tried to return to humor.

"Thanks for that story, Wanda. I feel much better now."

Wanda turned her head and noticed his wide grin.

"You smart-ass," she said. "Lucky you're a cripple, or I would smack you a good one."

She tried to grab him as he stumbled and fell.

●●●

Harvey's scream filled Wanda with such terror she held her hands in front of herself, as if to keep from falling. She dropped to her knees. What she saw made her retch.

The bone in Harvey's ankle had broken through the skin.

Wanda grew faint. Everything swirled, and she fought a surge of nausea. Her hands shook as she covered her mouth, sobbing.

Harvey clutched his leg and rocked back and forth as he lay in the sand, crying out in pain. His cries forced Wanda to take control of herself. She had to do something, she said to herself. Harvey needed her help. She had to stop sobbing and do something.

Her vision cleared. "OK, Harvey, I'm going for help. We're not that far from the car now. I need the keys so I can get in and get my cell phone."

"Pocket," Harvey managed to say between moans. Wanda reached down and pulled out his car keys. She refused to look at his broken ankle. They had been walking on the beach for six hours and still had not come to the footpath. Harvey was pale and shivering, despite the heat of the day. She had to cover him with something, she thought, anything, before she left. She had no idea how much time the trip to the car and back would take, but she had to cover him first.

"I'm going to look for something to cover you with. I'll be right back." She jumped up and started to run into the brush when out of the corner of her eye she detected a black object in the water. She turned and ran to the river. She waded into the water a few feet and saw a piece of black plastic the size of a king-sized bedspread snagged on a branch. She pulled the plastic sheet ashore. Thank god for people who throw their trash into the river, she told herself.

She spread the plastic sheet over Harvey. "The sun will dry this off. I'll be back soon, sweetheart. You're going to be all right." She took off at a dead run.

I've never called him sweetheart, she thought. I've never called him anything but his name. But he was her sweetheart, and she drew strength from the thought. So she ran and ran and ran.

She arrived at the footpath in about 10 minutes, sooner than she thought she would. She took the time to put on her shoes where they had left them by the log. She grabbed Harvey's shoes as well and started running up the footpath.

When they walked down to the river the path had never seemed particularly steep, but running up the path in a crisis seemed like climbing a mountain. Wanda's lungs burned, but she refused to stop.

When she thought she could not run another step, Harvey's car came in view, just off the road. She wanted to kiss it, but she had no time. She unlocked the door, dug into her purse, pulled out her cell phone and dialed 911.

The battery was dead.

She dropped her head and arms on the steering wheel. What next, she thought. She would drive into Neehawk, only minutes away, and get help.

She started the engine, but an enormous crack of thunder gave her pause. A strong wind had come up, and huge drops of rain started smacking the car.

She couldn't leave Harvey, she thought. What if the wind blew the plastic sheet away? What if he lay in the rain, helpless and unable to move? She had to tend to him. She had no choice.

Wanda backed the car on to the narrow gravel road. She parked at an angle so another vehicle would have trouble getting by. She turned the headlights on bright.

She found a piece of paper in the glove compartment and wrote a message:

"PLEASE HELP! WE ARE ON THE BEACH. HARVEY HAS BADLY BROKEN ANKLE. PLEASE SEND HELP! WANDA MCFALLS

She put the paper on the dashboard, turned on the car's interior light and blinking hazard light, and, leaving the engine running, jumped out of the car and ran down the path to the river.

When she reached the beach the rain was coming down in torrents, and she had to run against the wind while the lightning and thunder crackled overhead. Those things made no difference. She was a woman possessed.

So she ran and she ran and she ran.

●●●

Wanda found Harvey where she left him, lying in the sand. He was clutching the black plastic, engaged in a fierce tug of war with the wind, which had blown the sheet off him, but not out of his grasp, and somehow he had managed to hang on.

She kneeled beside him. "Help is on the way," she said. His teeth were chattering, and he couldn't talk.

She made several trips to the water's edge and brought back a number of large stones, which she used to bring the plastic under control.

When everything was secure, she slid under the plastic and, careful not to disturb Harvey's broken ankle, climbed on top of him. "You're going to be all right," she whispered into his ear. "They're coming to help us. You're going to be OK."

Molecule by molecule, their drenched bodies began to meld into each other, warming them despite the storm.

●●●

A couple of hours later the wind and rain had stopped. Wanda thought she heard voices. She lifted her head and saw what seemed in the distance to be flashlights bobbing and weaving in the dusk. Then came the distinct cry:

"Hello!"

"Here!" Wanda shouted. "Here!" She slid out from under the plastic sheet. She stood up and waved her arms.

"Here! We're right here!"

The flashlights came running.

# Chapter 10

An Open Fracture

A small group waited at Neehawk General Hospital for a doctor to come and tell them about Harvey.

Wanda, wet hair flattened against her head, her still-damp clothes spattered with mud and a random sprig or two of riverside vegetation, had a drawn and weary look, except for an occasional spark of determination in her eyes.

Harvey's parents, ashen-faced and wide-eyed, talked with no one. They seemed incapable of speech.

Wanda's parents appeared to be a bit embarrassed. "Go wash up, and comb your hair," her mother said the moment she entered the waiting room and saw her daughter. "I'm not going anywhere," Wanda said, "until I hear from the doctor." The tone of her voice forbade any further discussion of the matter.

Wanda called Duane Wesley from the hospital, and he came even though midnight was approaching.

Duane walked around the room and up and down the hallway like an expectant father, pausing from time to time to talk in whispers with Wanda. Their brief conversations often ended with a hug.

●●●

"Wanda McFalls?"

"Yes?"

"I'm Doctor Hennigan. I'm an orthopedic surgeon, and I'm assisting Doctor Osborne, who is the lead surgeon in Harvey's case. Are these folks with you?" The doctor had a serious demeanor and tone of voice.

"Yes."

"Good. As I'm sure all of you are aware by now, Harvey suffered a serious injury, what is called an open fracture of his right ankle. An open fracture simply means the broken bone punctured the skin.

"Harvey's fracture is unusual – you could almost say he broke his ankle twice."

The doctor held up an illustration of the bones of the ankle and foot. He pointed to the bones he referred to as he talked.

"Harvey first fractured the lateral malleolus, which is the bony bump on the outside of the ankle. The bony bump is the bottom of the fibula, which is the smaller lower leg bone on the right side of the leg. A fracture of the lateral malleolus is the most common ankle fracture. Harvey's fracture occurred when he stepped in a hole. Correct, Wanda?"

"Yes." She wondered whether the doctor knew exactly how Harvey "stepped" into the hole.

"If Harvey had gotten to the ER right after the initial break, he most likely would be home right now wearing a boot," the doctor said. "He and Wanda had the bad luck, however, of being in a rather remote area along the Missouri River, more than a mile away from their car and without cell phones. So they tried to make the best of a bad situation. Using Wanda as a human crutch, Harvey tried to walk the mile back to the car, but he didn't quite succeed. He stumbled and fell, which caused the fracture in the lateral malleolus to break apart and the fibula to puncture the skin. Most ankle fractures occur without a dislocation of the joint. The type of fracture Harvey suffered is rare.

"Now, I spent more than three hours cleaning up the wound in preparation for surgery. The cleaning process is called debridement, and in Harvey's case it involved removing the sand and other debris that had entered and contaminated the wound. Because of the severe contamination of Harvey's wound, the debridement was difficult and took an extraordinary amount of time.

"The debridement, of course, is an important medical procedure. In Harvey's case, however, the procedure cost the medical team – and Harvey – some valuable time. Here's what I mean. Any time a fractured bone pierces the skin and is exposed to the open air, the bone can become infected. In fact, any bone exposed for more than eight hours is automatically presumed to be infected. The focus of treatment for open fractures is to prevent infections, which are the most common complication of open fractures.

"Wanda, Harvey's second injury occurred at about 5 p.m. today, or I guess I should say yesterday. Correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"The time now is almost 12:30 a.m.. which means Harvey's ankle bone was exposed for a minimum of seven and a half hours – far too close for comfort. The risk of infection is Harvey's greatest danger right now. An infection can set in at any time during the recovery process, and further surgeries are sometimes required. Bone infections are difficult to heal. The best cure for them is to surgically remove the infected bone.

"The worst part is you can't remove any bone involving the ankle without amputating the leg just below the knee."

Several members of the group gasped. Wanda covered her face. Duane put his arm around her.

"I'm sorry to give you the bad news, but you should be aware the possibility exists that Harvey eventually might require an amputation."

He paused.

"The news isn't all bad, however. Harvey is young. He's healthy. His vital signs are good. Although his wound was contaminated, no pieces of bone had to be removed. He had a clean break, and the bone was thoroughly cleaned during the debridement process. By the way. I'm told, Wanda, you did a remarkable job of getting medical help for Harvey and also of protecting him from what was a nasty rainstorm. I won't go so far as to say you saved Harvey's life tonight, but you very well might have saved his leg.

"Here is one final piece of good news, and you can't overemphasize the importance of this. The field of orthopedic surgery has seen substantial advancements over the years. Years ago, an ankle as mutilated as Harvey's almost certainly would have required an amputation. Today that is not always the case. Severely injured limbs can be salvaged nowadays, and often are. That is never more true than when the orthopedic surgeon is David Osborne. Doctor Osborne is one of the finest orthopedic surgeons in the nation, if not the world. I do not exaggerate. We are very lucky to have him here at Neehawk General. Doctor Osborne, by the way, is busy putting Harvey's ankle back together as we speak.

"The surgery takes from three to four hours, sometimes longer. Someone will try to advise you from time to time how things are going. Now, any questions?"

"How long will the hospital stay be?" Wanda asked.

"Five to 14 days, depending on how well he tolerates the surgery and whether he has any complications. As I said, he's a healthy young man; I wouldn't expect any more than 14 days, but maybe less."

"Thank you, Doctor Hennigan, for giving us the good news last," Wanda said. "I can't imagine the shape I'd be in if you had saved the worst for last."

"We at Neehawk General offer service with a smile," he said. Then, as if to offer proof, he smiled for the first time.

"Well, I must get back to work," he said. "The chapel is right down the hall on your left." He smiled again and left the room.

●●●

The sun had been up for some time when Wanda opened her eyes. She leaned forward in her chair and groaned at her aching muscles, which did not react well when she stood, yawned and stretched. Everybody in the room was asleep, most of them sprawled at odd angles in chairs not made for sleeping. She glanced at her watch. 7:30 a.m. The surgery had taken longer than she had expected. A good sign or a bad sign? She was too tired and too sore to think, so she sat back down.

Harvey's parents, who had slept in the chapel, walked into the room red-eyed and bedraggled.

"Good morning," Wanda said. They nodded and sat down. Right behind them came Doctors Osborne and Hennigan.

"Good morning," Doctor Osborne said in a voice loud enough to wake everybody. "How is everybody this morning?" He was much younger than Doctor Hennigan, but he had the look of someone who always finished first in his class.

"I'm here to give you a report on Harvey," he said. "The operation went fine. No complications. He is on antibiotics to help ward off any infection. In fact, we started him on antibiotics when he was in the emergency room, and he is now fast asleep and doing well.

"The surgery took longer than expected because we were able to do what is called an internal fixation. An IF. You can't always do an IF right away on someone with an open fracture such as Harvey had. Sometimes, if the patient has other injuries, or too much tissue damage, or is otherwise not in good health, we wait and do the IF later. Harvey is young and strong, however; he had minimal tissue damage, and he is in excellent overall health, so we went ahead with the procedure.

"The IF procedure went like this. First, we repositioned the broken bone to put it back into its normal alignment. Nowadays we can get within a gnat's eyebrow of the original position. Then we inserted special screws – 14 of them – to hold everything in place. The procedure went quite well.

"Harvey's right leg is now in a cast. We're going to keep him in bed for a couple of days so he can get the rest and rejuvenation he needs. His body suffered a serious trauma, and even someone as young and healthy as he is needs a bit of recovery time. Then, when we think the time is right, we will break him in on crutches, keeping it slow at first until he gets used to them. Then, after five days or so, if there aren't any complications, we'll send him home and get him hooked up with a physical therapist. Much of his recovery depends on how consistent and diligent he is about doing his PT exercises.

"What can you expect? Well, you can expect Harvey to be weak, stiff and uncomfortable in varying degrees for months. Recovery from a severe trauma takes time. Months, not weeks. So be patient with Harvey, and give him all the support he needs. I know you will."

He paused, and Wanda waited for the other shoe to drop.

"Folks, I am optimistic about Harvey's recovery, but I'm not God, and I don't know what the future holds. I'm sure Doctor Hennigan told you our biggest worry about Harvey right now is the possibility he might develop a bone infection. An infection could come tomorrow, six weeks from now, or not at all. We can't predict these things yet. The medical community is aggressive about looking for better ways to treat open fractures, but we are still learning.

"The unfortunate fact is, Harvey's ankle bone was exposed to the open air far too long. The lengthy exposure put him in a hole and could lead to an amputation. I'm sure Doctor Hennigan told you that, and it's my unpleasant responsibility to tell you as well.

"Let me leave you with this. Harvey has an awful lot going for him, all those things I mentioned. His youth, his good health, etcetera. Doctor Hennigan and I, the physical therapists and in fact the entire medical staff at this hospital will continue to give him the best care possible. So those things are on the plus side for him as well.

"Then there is you, all of you in this room. Let me talk a little more about what I said earlier, that Harvey is going to need your support. Despite all of his good intentions, Harvey may have times when he will lose heart and want to give up. You can almost count on it, in fact. I know because I've seen it happen so many times. His recovery is going to take months, not weeks. Do what you have to do, but don't let him quit. Be proactive. Keep in touch with him. Talk to him. Make sure you know what's going on with him, so you can head off any wrong turn he might want to make. You are the people he loves, and who love him. Now, more than ever, is the time to show that love.

"Love. Works. It always has. I've seen it work, time and time and time again."

# Chapter 11

The Recovery

Six days later Harvey left the hospital.

Wanda visited him every night after she got off work at the library. He joked and laughed and made Wanda laugh with him. The same ol' upbeat Harvey.

They relived their day on the beach a few times, but they focused on the lovemaking, not on the broken ankle. Harvey laughed at his idea of how to prevent Wanda from getting pregnant.

"Yes, I did a stupid thing," he said, "but I didn't realize Fate had such a nasty streak. I mean, does asking someone to jump up and down deserve the death penalty? Gimme a break." He paused. "Oops."

The image of their naked bodies bouncing like silly monkeys in a grove of cottonwood trees, arms flailing, other parts flopping, sent them into fits of laughter. They picked their favorite memories of the day, and the jumping monkeys ranked No. 2.

They talked about Harvey's recovery. The doctors told Harvey everything they told Wanda and the others. Harvey dismissed the doctors' emphasis on the potential for a bone infection and the possibility of an amputation as "covering their asses." Wanda gave the doctors more credit, but she didn't let on.

By the time Harvey got home he had mastered the art of walking on crutches. He began his weekly sessions with a physical therapist at the hospital and, to hear him tell it, he did his home exercises every day. The exercises made him stronger, he said, and he seldom needed a painkiller.

Coming home from the hospital meant Harvey and Wanda spent less time together. Wanda worked five days a week, and she didn't want to go to Harvey's home every night after dinner. Harvey's parents, Hal and Helen Holloway, had not warmed to her, nor she to them. Her rare visits to their home never quite lost their awkwardness.

Harvey and Wanda had not told anyone – not the police or the EMTs, not the doctors at the hospital, not their parents, not even Duane – that they made love the day Harvey broke his ankle. In their view, what they did in the grass at Pecker Point was nobody's business but theirs and had nothing to do with anything – except their status changed from virgin to proud ex-virgin.

Wanda, however, thought Mr. and Mrs. Holloway somehow knew about their elevated status. "Impossible," Harvey said when Wanda informed him of her suspicion. Wanda admitted she had no evidence, only her woman's intuition. Harvey scoffed at the notion, so she tried to let it go.

Yet the Holloways' odd behavioral tics mystified her.

Neither parent called Wanda by name. They called her "you." When they talked to Harvey, they referred to Wanda as "she," even though "she" might be standing right beside them. Their greeting to Wanda consisted of nothing but a nod. No spoken words. In the few times Wanda came to their house, no matter whether Mr. or Mrs. Holloway answered the door, Wanda got a nod and a motion to come in. She started referring to them as Mr. and Mrs. Nod, and to their home as the Land of Nod.

The first time the Holloways invited Wanda to dinner, she sat down at the table expecting, hoping, to get to know Harvey's parents a little better.

They ate the entire meal, however, in complete silence, save for a couple of times Wanda tried to start a conversation. Otherwise, not a word, not even from Harvey. When someone wanted a second helping of potatoes, for example, they would point at the potatoes and nod. It seemed to be a dinner of mutes who had devised their own special ASL.

Later, when Wanda told Harvey how odd and awkward she considered the dinner to be, he seemed surprised.

"We never talk during a meal," he said. "That's how it has always been." Wanda couldn't imagine how such a peculiar family tradition began, but she stored the dinner in her memory bank, thinking it might become important someday. For a while afterward she even wondered whether Harvey might be adopted

In any case, her first dinner with the Holloways also turned out to be her last. Fearing she might come to dislike the Holloways, she begged off on the next couple of invitations, and they didn't invite her again. Too bad, but she thought she had no other choice.

The closest Wanda came to a connection with Harvey's parents happened on a Sunday night after she and Harvey spent the day together. Wanda dropped Harvey off, and as she started to leave, Mr. Holloway lowered his gaze to the floor and said to her, "Harvey thinks a lot of you."

He seemed embarrassed, so Wanda nodded and left.

●●●

The time passed. June went by, then July.

Harvey's recovery seemed to be right on schedule. He regained his strength. He continued to have moments of discomfort, but fewer of them and farther between, and he no longer took pain pills.

The slow building of Wanda and Harvey's relationship also seemed to be right on schedule. They ditched their "20 questions" method of getting to know each other in favor of a more natural, organic process – one molecule at a time. They spent time together nearly every day, and although making love fell off the agenda for the time being, they talked a good game and looked forward to better days ahead.

As July gave way to August, however, Wanda decided she had to deal with a problem she had somehow ignored.

Wanda's 4.0 GPA at Neehawk High qualified her for a scholarship to study library science at the University of Nebraska. She enrolled at NU, with classes to start after Labor Day in early September.

She hadn't told Harvey about her plans to go to the university, she reasoned, because she had been distracted by his broken ankle and the prospect of a long rehabilitation for him.

The real reason, however, was the thought of being away from Harvey for extended periods of time while she attended the university, a thought almost more than she could bear.

Harvey counted on Wanda for nearly everything. She chauffeured him. She got him out of the house every day. She made sure he ate right and that he did his physical therapy exercises every day. She made him laugh. She became his soul mate. No one could take over and do what she did for him should she leave town. She loved doing things for him. It made her whole, and she did not relish the idea of giving it up.

Nor did she relish giving up the thought she and Harvey had fallen in love, and love, she decided, trumped everything else.

Then, without warning, everything came crashing down. Her problem had been solved.

It had been replaced, however, by an even bigger one.

#  Chapter 12

### A 3 a.m. Phone Call

At 3 a.m. on a Wednesday in early August, Hal Holloway dialed Wanda's cell phone number.

He was calling from the hospital. Harvey had been taken by ambulance to the ER complaining of acute pain in his right leg, and he was undergoing emergency surgery.

Wanda called Duane, who said he would head straight for the hospital. She woke up her parents and asked them to call the library after 8 a.m. to let them know she wouldn't be at work. She then went to the hospital, more frightened than she had ever been in her life.

Wanda nodded to Harvey's parents when she entered the OR waiting room, and they returned the nod. "What's going on?" she asked.

"They said someone would come out as soon as possible to talk to us," Mr. Holloway said. "Now you're here we'll go to the chapel and pray for him. Please join us if you like."

"I think I'll stay in case the doctor comes," Wanda said. "I'll come get you if he does."

Mr. Holloway nodded and stood up. Mrs. Holloway, who had been crying, stood up, leaned forward and put her arms around Wanda, who almost flinched. Mrs. Holloway had hardly ever spoken a word to Wanda, much less given her a hug.

"Thank you for being Harvey's friend," she said. Her husband took her hand, and they left the room. Wanda leaned back in her cushioned chair and closed her eyes.

●●●

Thank you for being Harvey's friend.

The six words did a slow dance in Wanda's head, calmed her and made her more sure of what she had to do.

Sometimes, she thought, ordinary words take on extraordinary meaning. Helen Holloway's "friend" was such a word.

Random questions and answers began to drift through her sleep-interrupted brain. Like a viewer and not a participant, she watched and listened in silence as they rolled by.

What is Harvey Holloway to you? A person attached to you by affection, a favored companion? Yes, but ...

Someone you like and enjoy being with, a person you trust? Of course, yet ...

What about the lovemaking? None at the moment, though not by choice, and yet we are closer than ever – proof we are extraordinary friends.

What makes him an extraordinary friend?

A lot of things. For example, when he gives me a compliment, he gives it for my sake, unconditionally.

On our first date, he fit like an old shoe. So comfortable, so easy on my feet.

Talk to him in fragments, no need to complete. Half a word, a glance, gets the message. Our own language.

Suppose I asked him, what is a four-letter word for a pale green moth, and then magically disappeared for a year. His first word upon meeting me again would be "luna." We would pick up right where we had left off, as if nothing had happened. Time and distance cannot separate us.

He makes me laugh. Always. Every day.

I'm like a dog. He can leave the room for five minutes, and when he returns I am so happy and excited.

Do you love him? I must tell him I love him before I tell anyone else, and... he hasn't been told yet.

Why not?

●●●

Wanda opened her eyes, surprised to see Duane sitting next to her.

"Oh, hi," she said. "You been here long?"

"Only a few minutes. I didn't want to wake you up."

"I guess I was sleeping. Thanks so much for coming, Duane."

"Of course." He shrugged. "Do you know anything yet?"

Harvey's parents, followed by Doctor Hennigan, walked in before she could answer. The doctor wasted no time.

"The news is not good. A condition has developed in Harvey's leg called 'compartment syndrome.' Whenever a bone breaks, it bleeds into the surrounding tissue, the muscles, and if the bleeding doesn't stop, the pressure in the tissue increases, and it eventually reaches a point at which the veins in the leg constrict and shut down, and the blood ceases to flow. The heart, however, keeps pumping blood into the area through the arteries, which are stronger than veins and are able to stay open.

"So when that happens, the pressure gets high enough to literally deprive the muscles of oxygen. Doctor Osborne is performing a surgical procedure right now called a fasciotomy to relieve the pressure in Harvey's leg. Normally a surgeon has about three hours to do a fasciotomy before the tissue dies, and when tissue dies, it has to be amputated. The surgery on Harvey's leg apparently began within the three-hour limit, but we won't have a prognosis for another hour or so. So sit tight, and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

●●●

The group sat in silence until Helen Holloway turned to her husband and said what most everybody in the room was thinking, "But he was doing so well." Hal Holloway didn't respond. He stared at the floor with unfocused eyes. His mouth hung open as he took deep breaths.

Wanda stood up. "I need some time alone," she said to no one in particular. "So I'm going for a little walk."

"Text me if you need anything," Duane said. Wanda laid a hand on his shoulder and gave him a squeeze. Then she left the room.

"He was doing so well," Helen said, stone-faced and emotionless. Her husband took her by the hand and led her down the hallway to the chapel.

Duane, as if he had been waiting to be alone, put his hands over his face. His shoulders shook as he wept.

A block away, Wanda, on her phone, was leaving a message for the admissions office at the University of Nebraska.

●●●

"I don't have much to tell you, except Doctor Osborne has completed the fasciotomy," Doctor Hennigan told the group an hour later. "Harvey has been sedated and is asleep. He is resting comfortably and his vital signs are good. We can't give you a prognosis at this time, but we will tomorrow morning.

"Mr. and Mrs. Holloway, Doctor Osborne and I need to meet with you in the morning, say 10 o'clock, to discuss Harvey's prognosis. Should you need to make cancellations so you can meet with us, please do so. This is important. We can't proceed with Harvey's treatment until we talk to you. Can you be here?"

"Yes, of course," Mr. Holloway said.

"Good. Thank you. Well, we're putting Harvey off limits to visitors tonight, so why doesn't everybody go home and get a – "

"One question, doctor," Hal Holloway said. He blinked his eyes and swallowed. "Would it be possible for Wanda and Duane to come to the meeting with you tomorrow as well?"

"Well, I'm not sure – "

"Please," Helen Holloway, near tears, said in a shaky voice. "Please. They are Harvey's best friends. He would be so much more comfortable if they could be here. They are so close to Harvey. Please."

Doctor Hennigan gave them an understanding nod. "Sure," he said. "I'll tell Doctor Osborne to expect all four of you."

#  Chapter 13

### The Amputation

"People would mistake me for a porcupine if I had as many needles sticking out of me as I had stuck in me."

Harvey thought he should try to lighten things up. Even though painkillers had clouded his perception, the mood in his hospital room seemed to him to be dusky at best.

He and his parents, plus Wanda and Duane, had been waiting for Doctors Osborne and Hennigan, already 20 minutes late.

"Why do doctors always make you wait?" Harvey asked. "They're worse than women. I wonder, does a female doctor make you wait longer than a male doctor? I wouldn't be surprised. Somebody should do a study."

Wanda sat at Harvey's bedside, holding his hand. Duane sat beside her. Harvey's parents sat on the other side of the bed. Harvey looked at one side, turned his head and looked at the other. Not a smile on either side, much less a laugh.

"Is this a wake? Are you sure this isn't a wake?" he said. "Pinch me, someone. OK, let's try something else. A nurse told me this one.

"A doctor says to his patient, 'I got some bad news and some horrible news.'

"The patient says, 'Well, might as well give me the bad news first.'

"The doctor says, 'The lab called with your test results. They said you got 24 hours to live.'

"The patient says, '24 hours! That's terrible! What could be worse? What's the horrible news?'

"The doctor says, 'I've been trying to reach you since yesterday.' "

Wanda and Duane giggled despite themselves. Harvey's parents managed to smile.

Harvey closed his eyes and seemed to go to sleep. A drug-induced vision passed through his mind. He was lying in a casket rimmed with sad-faced people staring down at him, shaking their heads. A man in a white smock appeared. "Good morning, Harvey," the man said. "How are you today?"

Harvey's eyes snapped open. Doctor Osborne, clipboard in hand, stood by his bed.

"Had better mornings," Harvey said, not sure whether the doctor was real or imagined.

"No doubt," the doctor said with a smile. "Harvey, I need you to stay awake for a few minutes. Should you start drifting off, I'm going to nudge you awake, OK?" The doctor, by way of demonstration, gave Harvey's shoulder a gentle push. "Doctor Hennigan and I called your parents and your friends in because we need to make a decision about a treatment plan for your ankle. So of course, since you're the patient, we need you to agree to the plan Doctor Hennigan and I are going to lay out this morning. OK?"

"OK."

"We are going to make this as simple and as brief as possible, because time is of the essence. So no doctorspeak, no long words, no verbiage."

Doctor Hennigan talked for 10 minutes about the perils of bone infection and the accepted method of treatment for it – "remove" all screws and other "non-living materials" as well as all infected bone and tissue (muscle). The doctor said the treatment should be "aggressive" – even some non-infected tissue should be removed to make certain no infected tissue or bone remains. In other words, he said, the infection should be treated like a tumor.

Although the medical handwriting was on the wall, the dreaded A-word had not been dropped.

Doctor Osborne talked about what he found when he performed the surgery the day before to relieve the pressure in Harvey's leg.

"In short, Harvey's leg is too infected to save," he said. A chill spread through the room.

"The contamination of his open fracture was too prolonged and severe. Despite all our efforts, the leg is beyond saving. The infection is winning the war, and drastic measures are needed to save Harvey's life." The use of the words Harvey and life in the same sentence sent a second chill through the room.

"The only option now is amputation."

Even though everyone understood what Doctor Osborne had been talking about, the word sliced through the room like a knife. The image of Harvey's leg bone protruding through the skin flashed in Wanda's mind. Fear gripped her chest, and a wave of nausea swept over her.

Amputation.

Tears they had held back were now unleashed. Hearts raced, pulses quickened, breathing became more rapid, and sweat ran cold.

The loss of a part of one's body seemed to the people in the room to be too much like a death, too much like "the final solution," and already the grieving had begun.

"Is there no other option?" Wanda asked, even though she knew the answer.

"Unfortunately, not in Harvey's case," Doctor Osborne said. "Treatments involving bone grafts and bone transports, plus heavy use of antibiotics, are producing good results, but Harvey would not be a good candidate for them.

"Harvey lost his leg on the beach, and the medical help he got came too late. I'm sorry, but those are the facts.

"Any other questions?"

The room was silent, not unlike a tomb.

"I mentioned earlier that time is of the essence. The sooner we amputate the better. So we need your permission, Harvey, and your permission, Mr. and Mrs. Holloway, to perform this surgery."

Doctor Osborne handed his clipboard to Hal Holloway. "Please sign at the bottom," he said.

"I think it's the best thing to do, Harvey," his dad said. "He's the doctor. We should listen to the doctors." He and his wife signed.

The doctor offered the clipboard to Harvey, who had not spoken a word throughout the discussion of what should be done about his leg.

"I'm too tired," Harvey said. "I can't think straight. Let me think about it for a couple of days."

"Harvey, we don't have a couple of days," Doctor Hennigan said. His voice was soft and gentle, with no hint of urgency or intimidation. "I'm not trying to scare you. I don't play those games with my patients. I'm giving you the facts; we don't have a couple of days. Here's another fact: the infection in your leg is growing by the hour. Not by the week, not even by the day. By the hour.

"There's a book, On Death and Dying, by Doctor Elizabeth Kubler-Ross. Maybe you heard of her. Anyway, in the book she outlines the five stages of the grieving process; in your case, you're grieving over the prospective loss of your leg.

"Stage One is denial and isolation, which is the stage you're in now. You can't believe this is happening to you. You're healthy as a horse. Whenever you had a health problem, you always got over it. So you'll get over this too. Well, I understand, Harvey, I do.

"There are four more stages to go through, however: Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and finally, Acceptance. Most people who are dying can work their way through all five stages. You won't be able to do the same thing, Harvey. Why? Not enough time. Are we asking you to go from Denial right straight through to Acceptance in the blink of an eye? Of course not. It would be impossible.

"So what you must do, Harvey, is put your trust in the experts who can help you, and equally important, put your trust in the people who love you. Don't try to go this alone, Harvey, and please don't think for one minute that you are alone, because you're not. Let us help you, Harvey. It's what all of us are here for."

Wanda squeezed Harvey's hand. "He's right, Harvey. Let us help you. Please."

A sob caught in Harvey's throat, and his body trembled beneath the blanket the hospital had warmed for him. "I don't want to lose my leg," he said in a shaky voice. His lips quivered and his tears bubbled into his mouth as he spoke. "Please ... don't cut off ... my leg." He wept like a child who feared everything and understood nothing. It all came pouring out. The pain in his ankle when he landed in the hole, hobbling down the beach, the crack of his leg bone busting through the skin and into the sand, hanging on with all his might to a sheet of plastic as the wind ripped at it and the rain pelted him, the surgeon driving screws into his leg and ankle, lumbering about for weeks in a cast, and through it all the pain. The pain, and now this. All because he laid in the grass with a girl he since had come to love, and what was so wrong with that? What was so wrong with that?

Wanda laid her head on his chest. "Harvey," she sobbed, "Harvey." Duane kneeled beside the bed and took Harvey's hand. Harvey's parents stood by the bed and laid their hands on him. Wanda looked at their faces and thought they must want to scream at the God who allowed this to happen to their son.

Doctor Hennigan gave the scene some time to play itself out before he spoke.

"I realize this a sad moment for all of you, and you might not believe this or find it to be of much comfort right now, but let me suggest something for you to think about. In a way, amputation is a good thing. Amputation is going to save Harvey's life. You are not going to lose Harvey. He is going to come out of this alive and well, and he will be the same Harvey he is now. Prosthetics and lower-limb orthotic devices nowadays are amazing, state-of-the-art amazing. Harvey will be able to lead a normal life in every conceivable way. He will bounce his children on his knee, and he will play games with them on the lawn. And in time you will forget he wears an artificial foot and lower leg.

"You will, in time, forget."

The next morning, Harvey Holloway's right leg was amputated just below the knee.

#  Chapter 14

The Apartment

Harvey's rehabilitation seemed to go well at first. Wanda asked for and received a three-month leave of absence from her job at the library because she wanted to tend to Harvey full time.

She cast aside her previous reluctance to go to the Holloway home and started showing up early in the morning, every morning. The doctors had stressed the importance of eating well, so Wanda persuaded Harvey to give up his usual breakfast of a bagel and cream cheese in favor of soft-boiled eggs, fruit and Greek yogurt. She talked to dietitians at the hospital and drew up a daily menu she encouraged Helen Holloway to follow.

After breakfast, Harvey often had appointments to keep and exercises to do. Wanda became his chauffeur and personal trainer. She made sure he worked with the doctors, therapists and psychologists at the hospital who monitored his physical and mental health.

She even started having dinner with the Holloways, something she vowed she would never do. She accepted their invitation to dinner on one condition, however: They must allow, encourage and take part in conversations at the dinner table.

Helen Holloway protested at first. "We always considered our mealtimes, especially dinner, to be sacred times," she said. "Our silence is our way of thanking the Lord for providing us with our daily sustenance. The silence is like a prayer. Our thoughts, our gratitude and our attention are given over completely to the Lord and not to any earthly matters."

"I respect your views," Wanda said, "but do you remember what Doctor Osborne said? He said, 'Love. Works.' He was talking about our love for Harvey, and here's what he said – I can quote him verbatim. He said, 'Keep in touch with Harvey. Talk to him. Make sure you know what's going on with him, so you can head off any wrong turn that he might want to make. You are the people he loves, and who love him. Now, more than ever, is the time to show that love.'

"Might I suggest the Lord also wants you to keep watch on Harvey, this child He has entrusted to you, the child He created in His own image. Doctor Osborne told us one important way we can care for Harvey during this stressful time in his life is to simply talk with him, so we can know what is going on with him. I think the best time and place to talk with someone is at the dinner table surrounded by family, where love can work its magic." She gave Helen a smile.

"Well," Helen said. "I ... I'll have to talk with my husband."

Hal Holloway must have thought if the Lord didn't object to a little chatting at dinner, why should he? Wanda ate with the family the following night.

Led by the young woman who was so devoted to their son, the Holloways talked.

●●●

The trouble began a couple of months later.

By then, Harvey's "stump" had healed and he was fitted with a lower limb orthotic device. In time he seemed to adapt to what he called "the contraption" quite well.

At the same time, Wanda's parents decided if she wasn't going to go to college, she should find another place to live. Time to leave home and go out on your own, they said.

Angry at first, Wanda soon wondered why she hadn't thought of the idea herself, long before her parents did. The only drawback to moving out, in her mind, was she would no longer get free room and board. Her income at the library, however, would be enough for her to get by on. Besides, having her own place opened up a wide range of possibilities for her and Harvey, not the least of which was making love. She might even be able to sweet-talk him into moving in with her and sharing expenses – the thought left her breathless. His parents would object on religious grounds, but Harvey had never given the impression he had any interest whatsoever in anything to do with the church.

Well, she didn't want to get too far ahead of herself, so first things first: Find a place to live.

With Harvey as her support, Wanda in only two days wrote a check for first and last months' rent for a one-bedroom apartment in a lower-middleclass neighborhood of the city. The place was hardly a dream home, but she hadn't expected much in her first time out of the nest. Plus, having her own apartment gave her an exhilarating sense of freedom, and the fact she found the place with Harvey's help made her almost giddy.

The apartment came with all the usual appliances, but the most important feature was the location – the first floor of the three-story brownstone building. Harvey still struggled a bit at climbing stairs.

With the help of Duane and his pickup, they went shopping in secondhand stores for furniture and other items. Highest on Wanda's list was a bed and a television set.

Wanda made dinner, the first in her new apartment, for the three of them after their day of shopping. Harvey was unusually quiet at dinner, even though he had grown used to the new custom of having a conversation at his parents' table. Wanda dismissed it as a temporary relapse to his old ways, but when Duane said it was late and he should go, Harvey asked him for a ride home.

"Oh, I'll take you, Harvey," Wanda said. Her voice registered surprise, even hurt. She had become used to taking Harvey wherever he needed to go.

"That's OK," Harvey said. "C'mon, Duane, let's go."

They said their goodbyes and left.

Without so much as a goodnight kiss.

Wanda sat down, almost stunned. Harvey had never said or done anything to hurt her feelings until tonight's sudden departure, as if he wanted to get away from her as fast as he could.

After she put the dinner dishes in the dishwasher she went into the living room, turned on the television and almost immediately turned it off again.

She stood up and looked around the apartment. It seemed cold and hostile. She felt a thickness in her throat, signaling the onset of tears.

She had never been so lonely in her life.

#  Chapter 15

### The Breakup

Such a little thing. It could mean nothing. Probably was just a misunderstanding. Why make a big thing out of something so trivial?

The thoughts in Wanda's mind when she woke up the next morning scattered like cockroaches when the light was turned on.

She finally decided she would act as if nothing had happened after dinner the night before, because nothing did. She sat on her bed and dialed Harvey's number, like she did every morning to find out whether something had to be done for him early. She got his voice box and almost hung up before she changed her mind and decided to leave a message.

"Hi. Sorry I missed you. Call me. I'd like to invite you to dinner again tonight. The two of us." She hesitated. "Are you OK? You guys left in such a hurry last night. I worried about you. Hope everything's OK. Well, talk to you later. Can't wait to see you. Bye."

She said more than she meant to, more than she probably should have. The more she thought, the more she was convinced she sounded like a nagging, whiny bitch.

If he doesn't call, I wouldn't blame him, she told herself. If it was me, would I call? Hell, no. She fell back on the bed and covered her face with her hands.

●●●

He did call after lunch, however.

"Sorry I didn't pick up this morning," he said. "Duane kept me up talking late into the night last night. So I slept in this morning."

She didn't ask what they talked about, even though she was dying to know. The less she said, the less the chances of her saying something stupid, she thought. She had never censored what she said to Harvey, but something not quite right was going on with him, and until she found out what she decided to tread lightly.

"I do accept your invitation to dinner," he said. "You're a much better cook than my mother." Wanda almost choked. To her ear, the compliment was as phony as the proverbial three-dollar bill. For one thing, she had cooked once for Harvey – last night. Even so, however, the real Harvey would never say something so unctuous. Was he trying to make a joke? Hard to tell, which made her worry even more.

"Well," he said, "I'd better hang up. Dinner at seven?"

"Sure. Seven."

She hung up and stared out her living room window, which opened to a view of the apartment building's parking lot.

What's happened to him, she asked herself.

He's a stranger.

●●●

Wanda answered Harvey's knock on her door, gave him a smile and reached up to give him a kiss.

"I can't kiss you. Sorry," he said. He brushed past her.

Wanda was dumbfounded. "What? Harvey, what? You can't kiss me?" She stared at him. His back was turned to her.

"Why?" Her heart was racing.

Harvey's right leg gave a little shake, like a tic he was not aware of. He turned to her.

"Oh, no, no, no," he said. "A bad cold is all. Sorry, I didn't mean ... whatever you thought I meant. Trust me, you definitely don't want whatever is bugging me. Didn't mean to upset you. Sorry."

Wanda ignored what she thought sure was a lie. "OK, sorry you're not feeling so good."

"Smells good in here. What are we having?" Everything he says seems forced, Wanda thought.

"Kind of a picnic dinner. Well, it definitely is a picnic dinner. Burgers, potato salad and baked beans. Sure won't make the top ten healthy meals list, but about all I'm good for in the cooking department."

"Love indoor picnics. My fave."

Wanda wanted to cry, but why force something Harvey might not want or be ready for? Keep playing this charade and don't worry. Let him come to me, she kept reminding herself. Let him come to me.

"Dinner's not quite ready," she said. "Why don't we sit down in the living room and wait for the timer to go off."

Wanda surprised herself by sitting in the center of the couch, normally a display of supreme self-confidence, but in Wanda's case a desperate ploy.

Harvey didn't bite. He seated himself in the recliner, opposite Wanda.

They started to run through the Top Ten Boring Conversation Topics:

10. BOTH. What did you do today? Aka, How was your day?

9. WANDA. How did you catch cold? (A devious question, but still boring. Deftly sidestepped by Harvey.)

8. HARVEY. Your apartment is starting to look nice.

7. WANDA. What did you and Duane talk about last night? (Another devious question with great potential, but again deftly sidestepped by Harvey in only two words: "Dirty jokes.")

6. HARVEY. Does the dishwasher work OK for you?

5. HARVEY. Where did you get this painting?

Pop! Pop! Pop! The countdown was interrupted by what sounded like gunfire in the apartment. They froze for a moment as the memory of the Pecker Point gunshots flashed through their minds. Wanda jumped up and ran into the kitchen.

"Oh no!" she yelled. She grabbed the pan she had been boiling eggs in for the potato salad and pulled it off the burner. The pan had boiled dry, and some of the eggs had exploded like popcorn. Bits of shells and burnt egg splattered the wall and ceiling and landed on the stove and the floor.

"Shit! So much for this stupid timer!"

She started to clean up the mess. "I think this is a dog timer – frequency too high for the human ear." She waited for Harvey's laugh, which didn't come. "Well, guess I'll start over."

"No, don't start over," Harvey said. "I actually prefer my potato salad without eggs."

Wanda stopped what she was doing and clenched her fists.

"No! You! Don't!" she said, shaking her fists with each angry shout. "Nobody in the world likes potato salad without eggs! You can't even call it potato salad if it doesn't have eggs!" Which made no particular sense.

Harvey shrugged.

"Here, let me help you."

Then a thought struck Wanda.

Neither of them had laughed during the entire episode.

Where had all their laughter gone?

She wondered whether Harvey was asking himself the same question.

●●●

They ate dinner to the clumsy cadence of long, awkward silences.

At one point Wanda said, "Here's something I wonder about sometimes, out of idle curiosity. When I don't eat at your house, do you guys talk at the dinner table? Or not?"

Harvey wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Well, uh, they might say a couple of things at first, but then they're mostly quiet."

She thought about asking what the "couple of things" might be, but decided not to go down what was no doubt a dead-end street. Nothing she said gained much traction with him.

"Good potato salad," Harvey said. "I'm glad you redid the eggs."

Oh, Harvey, she said to herself. Please, no more of those stupid compliments.

She cleared the table after they finished eating and loaded the dishwasher. Alone in the kitchen, she put both hands on the countertop, leaned forward and bowed her head,

I want to tell him why I asked him over tonight. I want to tell him I love him, because I do, and I want to make love with him.

She walked into the living room. He was sitting in the recliner, and a terrible thought forced its way into her consciousness.

I'm losing him, and I don't know why.

She sat down on the couch – not in the center this time. They looked across the room at each other. She smiled at him, a strange, melancholy smile that revealed her deep longing for him.

Harvey finally spoke.

"Wanda?"

A single word foreshadowed the coming heartbreak.

"Yes," she said in a soft voice reminiscent of the "yes" she said months ago when Harvey asked her if she would be his date at the graduation dance.

"They ... they cut off my leg."

"Yes, sweetheart. Yes they did." The pain in his face brought tears to her eyes.

"I think I should tell you about my dreams. Nightmares. I want to tell you about them."

"Yes. Tell me."

"Sometimes at night I have the feeling my leg is still there, that they didn't cut it off after all. So I reach down, and ... my leg is OK! It's there! It was only a bad dream!

"You are lying in bed beside me. Sound asleep. You are so pretty and so peaceful, and I hate to wake you up, but I want to tell you the good news.

"So I touch your shoulder and whisper your name in your ear, and you wake up and smile at me, and I say, Wanda, they didn't cut off my leg. The whole thing was a bad dream.

"I throw back the covers to show you, and ... and all this blood. Blood everywhere. On the sheets. On the floor, the walls, the ceiling. Blood all over me and all over you.

"Then I see my leg. My missing leg. Covered in blood, writhing on the floor, shuddering and jerking, like a creature in its death throes."

Wanda rushed over and dropped to her knees beside him. She held his hand and stroked his face.

"Sweetheart, stop. Please stop. I'm here, and everything is OK."

He was sobbing. "No more dreams. I can't stand anymore dreams."

"No more dreams, Harvey. I'm here. I'm with you. Everything's OK." She kissed his cheek. He put his arms around her and drew her to his chest. She listened to the beat of his heart. At that moment she knew she could never live without him, and she made a vow to do whatever she had to do to drive out his demons.

"Dreams are just dreams," he said finally. He seemed calm. "My leg is gone. Forever." He paused. "I need to walk now."

Wanda stood up, and Harvey got out of the recliner.

"A stump. My right leg is a stump. The ugliest thing ever, and here is what I came over tonight to tell you." He paused.

"I don't ever want you to find out about my stump. Ever."

Wanda's breath caught in her chest.

"What are you saying?".

" I don't ever want you to find out about my stump. Ugliest thing ever."

"Harvey, don't toy with me. What do you mean, find out about your stump?"

He struggled for an answer.

"You mean you don't ever want me to see your stump? Is that right?"

Like his father before him, Harvey nodded. Wanda put her hand to her forehead.

"Harvey, I am so sorry your leg had to be amputated, but do you honestly think your stump makes even the slightest difference in how much you mean to me?"

"You would – " She cut him off.

"I love you, Harvey. I've always loved you, right from the start. I might not have known it at first, but I know it now. I love you so much that sometimes when I think of you I can hardly breathe. So don't tell me about your ugly stump. I don't give a shit about your stump! I love you, Harvey. YOU!"

Harvey ran both hands through his hair.

"Something else has happened," he said.

"What?" How could anything be worse, she thought.

"This sounds crazy, but I feel like they castrated me."

Wanda cocked her head, knitted her brow and squinted at him.

"Say what?"

"Something happens. No one can explain, but sometimes with amputees this thing happens. I'm a eunuch."

"Harvey, you didn't lose your sight or your sense of touch, did you? Can't you tell you're not castrated?"

"Yes, I know I have all my parts, but I no longer am interested in making love with you, or anybody else."

"So what are we going to do?" Wanda asked, her voice shaking, her face awash with tears.

"I think we should stop seeing each other," Harvey said.

#  Chapter 16

### A Punch in the Face

Six days passed before Wanda and Harvey crossed paths, or almost crossed paths – she got a quick glimpse of him at a distance. She had gone shopping at a mall in downtown Neehawk when she spotted him a second before he disappeared into a clothing store. Even the fleeting glance, however, set her heart racing.

He walked with the aid of crutches, and she wondered why. He had been walking unaided for weeks. Did he injure himself? The thought pained her.

She dare not try to find him and ask about his health, however. He had made things clear; their relationship had ended. She didn't agree, but the best thing to do, at least for now, would be to keep her distance, she thought.

Yet she couldn't resist the urge to go after him, and she found herself walking toward the clothing store, trying to sneak up on him, hoping to catch sight of him one more time. How she wanted to call his name, run to him and throw her arms around him. Instead, she caught herself and came to her senses. She slipped out of the mall through a side entrance. Her shopping trip, which, ironically enough, consisted of looking for a birthday gift for him, would wait another day.

The mall sighting happened a week ago, and in the meantime her leave of absence at the library expired and she had gone back to work. Her job helped fill the hole Harvey had left in her life. At least work kept her mind off him, or mostly off him, for a few hours each day, something she needed.

She hadn't gone shopping again. She didn't want to deal with another chance sighting of Harvey, and in a city as small as Neehawk chance sightings seemed to occur with uncommon frequency.

Neither, on the other hand, did she want to just sit around. So she thought if she expanded her shopping list she might be inspired to get out of her apartment more and into the world. She missed Harvey more than she thought she would, but she didn't want to let herself become the classic homebound, lovesick victim whose life consisted of moping, weeping and feeling sorry for herself.

So, to the birthday gift for Harvey she added a peace offering for her parents, who were furious and unforgiving because she canceled her enrollment at the University of Nebraska, thereby forfeiting forever the opportunity to get a scholarship at that institution. She also put Duane Wesley on the gift list. Good ol' Duane, the only friend she had these days.

So she got to thinking about Duane. She dialed his number.

"Hello."

"Duane, Wanda."

"Wanda! You're not going to believe this, but I literally was about to pick up the phone and call you."

"You're kidding."

"Not. I found out today Harvey dumped you, and I wondered if you would like me to kick his ass for you."

"Not kick his ass, but I would like you to help me do something involving him. So I'm wondering if you and Roseanne might come over for beer and pizza some night. Like tomorrow?"

"How about tonight?"

"Better yet."

"Great. I'll bring the beer."

"I'll provide the pizza."

"Seven?"

"Seven."

●●●

Nothing but a few crusts scattered in a greasy cardboard box on Wanda's coffee table remained of the pizza. Duane and Roseanne sat close together on the couch, each with a can of beer in hand.

Duane burped. "Excuse me," he said. "Love pizza. Beer too. I could live on this stuff?"

"Well, you could, but not for long," Roseanne said.

"Suppose not, but what a way to go. Would you go with me?"

"Of course." She tapped his nose with her index finger.

Wanda, sipping a beer while stretched out on the recliner, laughed. "You guys are too cute," she said. Duane, tall, with dark hair and movie-star good looks, and Roseanne, almost as tall, with dark hair and Duane-Wesley good looks, would almost pass for identical twins. Wanda would be happy if she spent the whole evening looking at them. She envied their togetherness.

They had not talked about Harvey, had not even mentioned his name. His presence, however, hung over the evening. Now with the pizza gone, the time to talk had come.

"So, Wanda, what's going on with Harvey?" Duane asked.

Wanda let out a big sigh. "I wish I had the answer. I'm trying to find out, and here's the deal so far."

Wanda told them she had gotten a call two days ago from the hospital psychiatrist, who told her Harvey had missed his last two sessions.

"She wondered why Harvey had stopped coming in, and I told her we had split up, so I had no answers for her either. That's when she told me Harvey is suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder."

"Oh my god," Roseanne said. "Poor Harvey."

"Yeah. Didn't surprise me," Wanda said. "Actually explains a lot. I cried at first, but finally I thought, this isn't helping him. Quit blubbering and do something useful. So I called you, Duane. Anyway, Harvey and I aren't ... well, he wants me to leave him alone, I guess you would say. So – "

"Yes, I'll talk to him," Duane said.

"I just want him to get back with the psychiatrist. He needs professional help. He probably thinks he's all alone in the world, but of course he's not."

"No wonder he hasn't called in a while. He's cut himself off from the people he needs most. Not good. So yes, I'll talk to him."

"But Duane?"

"Don't worry. I won't tell him you sent me."

"You're finishing all my thoughts tonight." She gave him a wide smile.

"Probably because I'm channeling Harvey. Let me tell you something, Wanda. You might think you and Harvey are split up, but I'm here to inform you you're not. I mean, you are all he talks about, hell, all he thinks about. The guy is so cuckoo over you. PTSD or no PTSD, one of these days he's going to come to his senses and get back where he belongs – with you. So yeah, I'll talk to him. Damn right."

Wanda got out of her chair and sat on the couch next to Duane.

"Roseanne, can I hug your man?"

"Wanda." Another of those one-word answers. The code this time: "You know you don't have to ask that."

Wanda hugged Duane – and Roseanne.

●●●

"Haven't seen you in a while, buddy," Duane said. He and Harvey walked along the bike path at Neehawk Island State Park. The early morning sun had already announced that the day would be another Nebraska summer scorcher.

"Yeah, well, I don't get out as much as I used to," Harvey said. Duane saw that Harvey walked with only the tiniest limp, unnoticeable unless one was looking for it.

"So how are you doing?" Duane asked.

"OK. Yeah."

"Still dealing with the doctors and all, I suppose?"

"Yeah. I had my orthotic device refitted recently. The old one gave me a little trouble. So I went back on the crutches for a bit while they made me a new one, which is much better."

"I was going to say, man, looks like you're doing great."

"Think so?"

"Absolutely." Duane paused. "How about the shrink? Still seeing him?"

"Bike!" someone yelled from behind. Duane and Harvey moved over and let the rider pass by.

"Her," Harvey said.

"Huh?"

"The shrink. It's a her, and nah, I'm not seeing her anymore."

"Why's that?"

Harvey drew in a deep breath. "I dunno, I guess some things you figure out for yourself."

"So ... she didn't help you out any?"

"No, she did OK. I mean, well, for one thing, getting to the hospital, what a hassle, since I can't drive yet. So I... did without, I guess."

"Harvey." Another of those one-word answers.

"Listen," Duane said, "you know I'm not doing a damn thing this summer, except for making an occasional trip to the poison oak patch. If Wanda's not available to give you a lift somewhere, I am. A hassle to get to the hospital? Gimme a break, pal."

" 'An occasional trip to the poison oak patch,' " Harvey said. He nearly doubled over with laughter.

"That's what Roseanne and I call it now. 'Hey, Duane, wanna go to the poison oak patch?' 'You betcha, baby!' "

"Bike!" Two more riders passed by.

"Well, anyway, about this shrink," Duane said. "Does Wanda know you're not going to her anymore?"

They walked in silence.

"Well," Harvey said, "Wanda and I aren't together anymore."

Duane laid his hand on Harvey's shoulder.

"I'm not surprised," he said.

"You're not? Why?"

"Because you're not here, and I don't mean you're crazy or something. I mean a part of you is missing. Part of you is off somewhere by itself. You're not all here anymore. I love you, man, and I want the old Harvey back. I'm not saying you need Wanda. You do or you don't, up to you guys. All I'm saying is you gotta get your head straight, man. You got professional help available, and you're not taking advantage."

"Is your little lecture over?"

"Aw, c'mon, man. Not a lecture." He threw down his hands. "When you were in the hospital, before the ... the amputation, Doctor Osborne talked to us. I can't remember everything he said, but Wanda, God bless her, is smarter than all the rest of us put together, and she remembered every word the doctor said, and she wrote it down and gave all of us a copy, because she wants us to take what the doctor said to heart. That's how much you mean to her. Anyway, I carry my copy in my wallet. Let me read it to you. Can I?"

They stopped walking. Harvey shrugged and folded his arms. Duane pulled a piece of paper out of his wallet, unfolded it and read:

"Despite all of his good intentions, Harvey may have times when he will lose heart and want to give up. You can almost count on it, in fact. I know because I've seen it happen so many times. His recovery is going to take months, not weeks. Do what you have to do, but don't let him quit. Be proactive. Keep in touch with him. Talk to him. Make sure you know what's going on with him, so you can head off any wrong turn he might want to make. You are the people he loves, and who love him. Now, more than ever, is the time to show that love. Love. Works. It always has. I've seen it work, time and time and time again."

He put the paper back in his wallet.

"Well I, for one, am not going to let you quit, man. So I'm asking you, begging you, Harvey, to make an appointment with your psychiatrist. She can help you. All of us can help you, if you'll just let us."

Harvey shook his head. "Well, that's easy for you and the doctor and everybody else to say. You're not the ones who have lost a leg. You have no idea what it's like, or what it does to you. I'm not talking about the physical pain, which is bad enough. I'm talking about the mental anguish. I'm not whole anymore, physically or mentally. I'm an ugly physical freak who has an ugly stump instead of a leg. I'm a mental freak because I no longer have a desire for women. I'm a eunuch. I left Wanda because she deserves a man, not a eunuch." There were tears in his eyes, and his breath came in gasps.

Duane stood with his hands on his hips. "You're right, Harvey. I'll never be able to fully appreciate what you're going through, and I feel terrible it happened. I'm not sorry for you, though. Not anymore. You don't need my help – you do plenty of feeling sorry for yourself. You want to go off in a corner by yourself and pout, go ahead, OK by me. You want to pretend you're a eunuch and dump a woman who has made a tremendous personal sacrifice because she loves you so much, fine, go ahead."

Harvey's eyes were on fire. "I'm not pretending!" he screamed. He swung with all his might and hit Duane in the face. The blow glanced off Duane's left eye and smashed into his nose. Duane crumpled to his knees. Blood streamed from both nostrils, covered his mouth and chin on the way down and dripped on the asphalt.

Harvey dropped to his knees beside Duane and put his arm around him.

"Oh god, I'm sorry, Duane, I'm sorry. Oh god, forgive me."

"That's OK," Duane mumbled through bloody lips. "You pack a hell of a punch for a eunuch."

#  Chapter 17

### The Psychiatrist

"Hi, Harvey," Doctor Ross said with a smile. "What would you like to talk about today?"

"I suppose you're wondering why I missed the last two sessions," Harvey said. He bounced his left leg up and down as he spoke.

"Your call, Harvey, as always." She smiled again.

They sat facing each other in high-backed swivel chairs with padded seats and arms, built more for comfort than for speed.

"Well," he said, "I don't know where to start."

"Take as much time as you need, Harvey. Sometimes people need to collect their thoughts before they can begin. I'm in no hurry."

"Well, uh, I'll just start. I might have to backtrack later, but I'll just start."

"Not a problem. Go ahead."

"Two things, two big things happened since the last time I came in. First, Wanda and I split up. I'm the one who called it off, not her. Second thing, I hit Duane. I mean with my fist. Hurt him pretty bad. Anyway, those two things woke me up."

Harvey told the story of the night he had dinner at Wanda's apartment, how he told her about his nightmares, how he had lost all interest in making love and how he said the best thing would be for them to stop dating.

"How did you react to the breakup with her?"

"Terrible. I love her. I still do. I miss her so much I can hardly function." Tears filled his eyes. "The night we broke up I had the nightmare again. Crazy, but when she came over every day I had the nightmare almost every night, but since we broke up, hardly at all."

"If I understand you correctly, it seems being with Wanda in person might be what triggered your nightmares."

"Sounds crazy, but I think you're right. Like being with her reminded me of the horrible night on the beach." His left leg started bouncing again. " 'Triggered' is the perfect word. What I don't understand is how the girl I love can cause these nightmares. Seems almost impossible, and what do I do? I mean, damned if I do, damned if I don't."

"Maybe between the two of us we can find an answer," Doctor Ross said. "Meanwhile, I'm wondering whether you are dealing with any other triggers besides Wanda."

"Well, I think I might be. A couple of weeks ago Duane said he wanted to go to Pecker Point and show me the place he and Roseanne got shot, a spot not far from the beach. I freaked out. Couldn't go."

"OK, so the beach then? How about Pecker Point in general?"

"Yes. Both."

"OK, we'll work on those, too. Now, do you want to tell me about hitting Duane?"

He told her the story.

"It sounds as if you regretted doing what you did," Doctor Ross said.

"Duane is my man. He and I have been best friends almost since birth. I love the guy. I still can't believe what I did. I just totally lost it. I'll never forgive myself."

"How did you react when he said you felt sorry for yourself, and you pretended to be a eunuch?"

"Well, those things set me off, but I realize now what he did. He deliberately tried to make me angry, make me do something stupid, make me realize I needed professional help. Man, did that plan ever work for him. Gotta give him credit for that, even though he paid a price. So he did me a huge favor. I still can't forgive myself for what I did, though."

"Astute analysis, Harvey. Anything else you want to talk about?"

"Well, you mentioned something about finding a way to resolve the problem with Wanda."

"Yes, but something else needs to be done first. Homework! Bet you thought you were all done with homework, right? Sorry, but I think you'll find this homework fun as well as helpful." She swiveled around to her desk and picked up a pamphlet.

"Here is a list of 10 relaxation techniques. Pick one technique you like or one you think might work for you and do it every day, twice a day, or even more often if you want to. Only takes 15 minutes or so. Next week you can tell me if you think it might help you patch things up with Wanda."

●●●

"Where do you want to start today?" Doctor Ross asked a week later when Harvey came in for his appointment.

"I am so jazzed about meditation," Harvey said. She noticed he didn't bounce his leg. "I always heard about meditation, but sort of in passing. When I read the information on the list you gave me, though, I thought, why not?

"So I followed the instructions. Well, I don't know whether some people are just naturally able to do meditation, but let me tell you, I think I came out of the womb pre-wired to meditate. Anyway, I also did a lot of research online. Fascinating information. Like, you can meditate while you're in the bathtub, or while you're walking down the street. By the end of the week I was meditating four times a day – first thing in the morning, after lunch, after dinner and just before I went to bed.

"Does meditation work? For me, a world of difference. A world of difference. In one week! No more mood swings. I am more positive, upbeat about... well, pretty much everything. Sleeping better. Not a single nightmare all week.

"Now, I'm not about to say I'm cured or anything, but I think meditation has helped me lay a foundation I can build on. I'm more hopeful now. So what do you think?"

"I say wonderful, Harvey. Congratulations. I'm proud of you. You've taken things into your own hands, which is the surest path to recovery. What else do you want to talk about today?"

"How, to quote you, I might be able to patch things up with Wanda."

"OK, good. This will dovetail quite well with the meditation you are doing. Let me tell you about a treatment for PTSD called systematic desensitization, which has proved to be quite helpful. I'll describe how it works, and you can tell me whether you think it would work for you, OK?"

"Sure."

"The work you are doing with meditation means you already have taken the first step in the systematic desensitization treatment plan. So you're off to a good start.

"The next step is to expose the patient to whatever has been triggering his or her nightmares, which in your case would be Wanda, the beach and/or Pecker Point, correct?"

"Yes. but what do you mean by 'exposing' me?"

"Good question. I anticipated you might want to give systematic desensitization a try. So I went ahead and collected a number of photographs of Wanda, some of which include you in the picture as well.

"How did you get the photos?"

Doctor Ross smiled. "I called Wanda and told her what I needed and why. She said she had only a few photos of herself, but Duane probably had hundreds, since he is forever snapping selfies and other photos."

"Yep. Drives everybody nuts," Harvey said with a smile.

"Anyway, Duane was most helpful, and he supplied me with quite a number of pictures. I took them and had my staff put together a video.

"So now all the ingredients for systematic desensitization are in place, and here is what will happen when we put it into operation.

"I will show you the video, or at least a portion of the video to begin with, while at the same you do your meditation, so even though you are looking at photos of Wanda, you are relaxed, at ease and things are going pretty well.

"The idea is that over time you will become less and less sensitive to what has been triggering your nightmares, namely Wanda, until finally, we can bring in Wanda herself, in person, and you will remain nightmare-free.

"We'll go through the same process with the beach. We'll show you pictures in the beginning, and ultimately you will go down to the beach, meditate while sitting in the sand, and lose your fear of the place. As I say, systematic desensitization has been proven to work.

"Any questions?"

"Only one. When do we start?"

"How about right now?"

#  Chapter 18

### One Year Later

"Way back," Harvey said, "when you and I embarrassed ourselves as 19-year-old children before we became the 20-year-old grownups we are now, and before I showed you what a powerhouse right cross I had, you said Wanda had made a tremendous personal sacrifice for me. I ignored you at the time because I was screwed up and had a lot of screwed-up things on my mind.

"This morning, however, as I put my tuxedo on, I said to myself, 'Self, you are making a tremendous personal sacrifice today by being Duane's best man at his wedding.' I thought, where did I hear that expression before? My neurons had to fire several times before they finally made a connection, and I remembered.

"So, my friend, as you are about to take the lovely and talented Roseanne Harris as your wife forever and ever, amen, tell me about Wanda's tremendous personal sacrifice."

Duane shook his head. "I don't remember," he said. "Whatever it was, it wasn't important."

"You don't remember? A tremendous personal sacrifice not important? You want to say your marriage vows through bloody lips, pal?"

"Wanda wouldn't want me to tell you. I should keep my mouth shut. She would be livid if she knew I told you."

"Well, Einstein, let's not tell her, OK?"

"She would find out. Wanda has this uncanny way of uncovering everything you try to hide."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"She told me you have a mole on your butt."

"She what?"

"That's what she told me."

"How did such a subject even come up?"

"I wanted to tell a joke about you at the reception, and I needed some material."

"What joke? Besides, it's not a mole; it's a birthmark."

"A mole is funnier."

"How did we get from Wanda's tremendous personal sacrifice to a butt-slash-mole joke?"

"I bob and weave quite well, don't you think?"

"You're not going to tell me?"

"Can't. Sorry."

"This is the last double wedding ceremony I'm ever going to do with you."

"The same to you, my friend."

They hugged, made one last check in the mirror and walked out and stood at the front of the church, where they waited for Wanda McFalls and Roseanne Harris to walk side by side down the aisle.

●●●

The discussion Wanda and Harvey had after the second time they made love had nothing to do with jumping up and down.

Only later, after Harvey moved into Wanda's apartment, did the subject come up. After one particularly wild night of lovemaking, an exhausted Wanda told Harvey not to insist she get out of bed and jump up and down. To which Harvey replied, "You know, I would take you to court to force you to do it, but I wouldn't have a leg to stand on."

That sick joke ultimately became the basis for how Harvey and Wanda lived their lives – they didn't take things too seriously, but they took them seriously enough.

They didn't even take their lovemaking, always hot and passionate, too seriously, but seriously enough.

The philosophy kept them in balance – not too high, not too low – and prevented one partner from dominating the other. They had a partnership of equals, which kept jealousy and rivalry from gaining traction.

They enjoyed each other, and they enjoyed being alone. They did things together and as individuals. They loved each other, and they liked each other. They thought of each other first thing in the morning and the last thing at night.

Giving pleasure far outweighed receiving pleasure.

Lovemaking fired up their lives. They never tired of each other. Every touch, every caress, every thrust, kiss, whisper, every time, each time new and different.

They took to playing a game of their own making called Who Thought This Up? The game used what they called their Coitus Calendar to keep track of who initiated the lovemaking on any given night – or day. If Wanda was the aggressor, a "W" would go on the calendar. If Harvey came up with the idea, the calendar would be marked with an H. At the end of the month, the "loser" had to pay for dinner out, a date night they called The Lit Fuse Special.

Eventually, Who Thought This Up? became more involved and, in their eyes, a lot more fun. Bonus points went to whoever suggested taking their lovemaking to a new and untested level. To the bathtub, for example, or the shower, or, in one particularly interesting experiment, the broom closet. Harvey won double bonus points when he suggested making love on the seat of their riding lawn mower, an adventure they dubbed Who Cut the Grass?

They did not, could not, separate their lovemaking from their love. They marveled at the incredible high brought on by lovemaking, and they raised their palms to the sky in awe of whoever created such a remarkable gift for humankind.

At the same time, they marveled at each other. No one, Wanda/Harvey would say, could ever love me the way Harvey/Wanda does.

Their gratitude for each other accompanied every breath they took. Every night before they fell asleep, Harvey would say to Wanda, "If I should die before morning, thanks for everything." To which she would reply:

"The pleasure was all mine."

THE END

# About R. J. WILL

R . J. Will is the pen name for Dave Tishendorf. Dave is a graduate of the University of Missouri School of Journalism. He had a long career as a newspaper reporter, editor and columnist. He now is a freelance writer and a published author of eight romance novellas, including _Love Through the Ages_ , a set of five contemporary love stories. He also has written two stage plays. He is a member of AbsoluteWrite, a critique group for writers.

Dave is a compelling new writer of contemporary romance. As one reader of _The Virgin Conquest_ wrote, "Great characters and story line – humor, suspense, drama, tragedy and inspiration all rolled into a book that left me with a sense of satisfaction as well as a deep appreciation for the gift of wisdom that my own 'first love experience' left me with."

# Other Books by R. J. Will

### Love Without Ceasing, Vol. 2

### Love One, Then Another

### Love Through the Ages, Vol. 3

### Beholden

### Love Through the Ages, Vol. 4

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