There must be something about me thatradiates some kind of field that keeps anything within it protected tothe same degree as my body, yet it has to b... very close. I wondered howclose, so I conducted a final experiment. After a brief change and alittle struggle with fragments of my jeans, I readied the torch. Safefrom prying eyes, my bullet ridden burnt Lycra pants were back on mybody, the holes doing little to cover my private areas. My left buttcheek was exposed, but I didn't care. I. " You don't have to," she said quietly. "You sure?" I'll be there," I said, winking -- not knowing if I were really up to it, but letting her think I believed I was.She winked back. Unsmiling, she stepped on the gas. She and the car raced down the street and grew smaller. I stood on the curb and watched, wondering what the hell I was going to do.Of all the weeks Martha and I had spent apart, that week of waiting for her departure was the longest that I remember. The only memory I have of that. More

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