Once inside, Agnes started the car,backed out of the drive and off we went. My head spun and my stomachtied in a knot, I felt faint."I...I don't f......eel very good aunt Madge!" I gasped as I squirmed inthe seat, smoothing my dress hearing the slips rustle and my nylons zip,feeling the tightness of my curled hair set and tasting my gloss redlipstick as the floral perfume floated around my head. "D...don't makeme go to Agnes' house, not for the whole school year!" I begged. "I...Iwant my boy. For one thing, my father, normally so strict and fearsome, loved Minnie with all his heart. The only time I have ever seen my father cry was when Minnie had to be put down, a result of illness from her old age. It only occurred to me a few years ago that perhaps my fathers love for her ran deeper than what is considered normal adoration for a pet. I still dont know if this thought disturbs me or reassures me. This could explain my own orientation. Within a year or so of Minnies death, my. More

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