“Yes,” said Jack his instincts telling him that this woman would do as she was told.“Are you going to hurt me?”“No. If you do as you’re to...d you won’t be hurt.”“Okay.”“You’re a nurse?”“Midwife.”“What’s your name?”“Helen.”“Do you have children, Helen?” Jack was a bit worried about this, it could be a complication.“No.”They drove on in silence.“My life has been pretty dreadful,” she suddenly started talking. “My father beat me, and when I got married my husband beat me, I can’t have children. But thelook of concern on Walt's face had brought to the surface the emotionsthat Marcia was struggling to keep submerged. Before she knew it, she wascrying and Walt was holding her in his arms. "Walt I have something totell you..." Tell me," he said.* * *They were sitting in a little park dedicated to the memory of a long deadHope Crossing resident. Edgar Terwilliger Birdwell wasn't rememberednowadays as a poet, not even by Hope Crossing residents, but as theoccupant of a half-acre. More

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