“That’s right,” she said. “I said I’d take care of it. The baby, not the abortion, you jerk.”

I reached for Jane’s hand, but she pulled away and glared at me.

“You know, you’re a frappin’s shit-bum,” she said, suddenly hoarse.

Again I tried to touch her. She pushed me away and started crying. I felt sick. I handed her a folded-up ball of toilet paper, but she threw it in a puddle and wiped her eyes and nose with her sleeve.

“You always try to take the easy way out, don’t you?” she said. “That’s why you have to get stoned all the time and why you want to go out west so bad. You just can’t face reality. You know, you’re warped. You can’t face anything. You’re a frappin’ phoney shit-bum.” She wiped her nose again. “But I guess I always knew that.”

Jane stepped out from under the awning and dropped her head back so that the rain washed her tears away.

“Well, at least you were honest about one thing,” she said. “I guess we never did make love. You were just fucking me.”

She ran back toward the school. I watched her reflection in the store window and weakly called out, “Jane, wait,” but she kept running.

I stayed in front of the store, unable to convince my legs to move. It was as if my body had gone on strike. I was a fire hydrant or a “No Parking” sign. The drumming on the awning grew louder. I thought about what a motherfucker rain was. Maybe my brother wouldn’t have climbed the power line had it been raining. Kennedy would’ve had the bullet-proof bubble up. I stared at an empty vegetable stand littered with limp leaves of lettuce. I guess I looked wacked-out because after a while some guy pulled down the shade inside.

PART Seven

“Go after her,” Irving said. “You don’t want to lose this one. Believe me, you don’t want to lose her.”

“It’s too late,” I said. “She’s lost.”

“It’s never too late. Just tell her that you’re sorry and that you need her back.”

“Ain’t that simple, Irv.”

“Come on, Dunph. You were the one who told me I could get any girl in the world.”

“Yeah, but getting them back is another thing. The chances decrease exponen— … expent— … You know, like in geometry.”

“Now you’re the one who sounds like a pussy.”

“Don’t you fucking see? What I did was unforgivable. I mean, what’s she gonna tell the kid? ‘Your dad wanted to pull the plug on you but I talked him out of it.’”

“She doesn’t have to tell anyone anything.”

“But she’ll know,” I said. “How can she marry the guy who wanted to kill her kids?”