“Maybe I mind.”

“Dad. Don’t.” And Harry reads his son’s taut face to mean, She can hear. She’s all alone. We must be nice to her, we must be nice to the poor, the weak, the black. Love is here to stay.

Monday, Rabbit is setting the Vat front page. WIDOW, SIXTY-SEVEN, RAPED AND ROBBED. Three Black Youths Held.

Police authorities revealed Saturday that they are holding for questioning two black minors and Wendell Phillips, 19, of 42B Plum Street, in connection with the brutal assault of an unidentified sywsfyz kmlhs the brutal assault of an unidentified elderly white woman late Thursday night.

The conscienceless crime, the latest in a series of similar incidents in the Third Ward, aroused residents of the neighborhood to organize a committee of protest which appeared before Friday’s City Council session.

Nobody Safe

“Nobody’s safe on the st “Nobody’s safe on the streets any more,” said committee spokesman Bernard Vogel to VAT reporters.

“Nobody’s safe not even in our own homes.”

Through the clatter Harry feels a tap on his shoulder and looks around. Pajasek, looking worried. “Angstrom, telephone.”

“Who the hell?” He feels obliged to say this, as apology for being called at work, on Verity time.

“A woman,” Pajasek says, not placated.

Who? Jill (last night her hair still damp from the boat ride tickled his belly as she managed to make him come) was in trouble. They had kidnapped her—the police, the blacks. Or Peggy Fosnacht was calling up to offer supper again. Or his mother had taken a turn for the worse and with her last heartbeats had dialled this number. He is not surprised she would want to speak to him instead of his father, he has never doubted she loves him most. The phone is in Pajasek’s little office, three walls of frosted glass, on the desk with the parts catalogues (these old Mergenthalers are always breaking down) and the spindled dead copy. “Hello?”

“Hi, sweetie. Guess who.”

“Janice. How was the Shore?”

“Crowded and muggy. How was it here?”

“Pretty good.”

“So I hear. I hear you went out in a boat.”

“Yeah, it was the kid’s idea, he got me invited by Ollie. We went up the river as far as Eifert’s Island. We didn’t catch much, the state put some trout in but I guess the river’s still too full of coal silt. My nose is so sunburned I can’t touch it.”

“I hear you had a lot of people in the boat.”

“Nine or so. Ollie runs around with this musical crowd. We had a picnic up at the old camp meeting ground, near Stogey’s Quarry, you know, where that witch lived so many years. Ollie’s friends all got out guitars and played. It was nice.”

“I hear you brought a guest too.”

“Who’d you hear that from?”

“Peggy told me. Billy told her. He was all turned-on about it, he said Nelson brought a girlfriend.”

“Beats a mini-bike, huh?”

“Harry, I don’t find this amusing. Where did you find this girl?”