They were both unschooled in the realities of life. Esther had dropped out of school at age 14 to help out at home and Oscar had stayed in the 8th grade until he was a gangly 18 years old when one day he looked around him saw he was surrounded by a bunch of kids and they were makin' him awfully nervous, whereupon he took his brown paper bag containing his peanut butter sandwich and an apple and dill pickle, went out the door of the old rural schoolhouse and never came back. He spent his time helping the local farmers with seasonal work and fishing and reading the bible.

The begettin' that sounded so good in the Bible, proved to be equally as good after he brought Esther home, and so he decided to do it quite often. After about 5 mos. of marriage, when Esther's belly began to swell a little, they thought she was just putting on weight. And when she felt some movement in her womb, she just thought she was gettting gassy and then early one morning when she awoke with a terrible back ache and water suddenly gushed from her soaking the bed and the new Sunbonnet Girl quilt she had just finished , she thought she was dying.

Oscar rode his old Sears Hawthorne bicycle into town and got Doc Baynes, the local veternarian to come home with him. He didn't know the difference, never having been to a doctor and old Doc Baynes thought he was going to help birth a cow. One look at the swollen Esther and Doc summoned a general practicioner, Dr. Beckner, who in turn transferred her to the Good Hope Hospital in Redemption. After 24 hours of labor in which Esther's blood pressure was dangerously high due to toxemia, she gave birth to a 6 lb. daughter. Less than 24 hours later, mother and daughter were dismissed from the hospital. They gave the baby a little pink hat and Esther a green plastic pan to vomit in, which she later used as a jello mold.

Dr. Beckner would occasionally stop and check on the mother and daughter and found they were both doing fine. Esther was a nursing mother and the baby thrived, but he took Oscar aside and told him that it would be a good idea if he and Esther would limit themselves to this one child as both Esther and a new baby would be in serious danger should she become pregnant again.

After this sobering conversation Oscar was so afraid of risking his beloved wife's life that the first night he approached her after the baby's birth, his powers failed him. He interpreted this as a sign from God and they lived together in total abstinance for the rest of their lives. Secretly, Esther was relieved because she had always though that part of marriage was kinda messy anyway.

The little family lived together on a little farm that Oscar's grandfather had left him when he had determined that his youngest grandchild was a little odd when he spent all that time in the 8th grade.

Oscar and Esther were co-ministers of a little white washed frame church on the edge of town in the southernmost part of Redemption. They would stand in front of their little church ringing a huge cow bell they had purchased from an Amish trading post in northern Indiana on one of the excursion trips that Sam Hamilton provided in old converted school bus once a year. Sam often said it was his Christian duty to provide these people with a little pleasurer, and besides, it was profitable, and Sam, as devout as he was, knew what religion was really all about.

On this night as their little flock entered the church, carefully wiping their feet on a door mat made of old shredded auto tires, also bought at the Amish trading post, Esther and Oscar and their daughter,Martha, who was now 17, were the picture of a happy family.

This was revival night and there was a huge crowd in attendance. Some came from as far away as Anderson and there were cars parked up and down the street and some all the way over by the city dump. Someone had spread the rumor that they were going to have real gen-u-wine poisonous snakes tonight and the crowd was anxious to see "git bit like they did that time on tv down there in Arkansas...had all them peepul in there jumpin' up and down and those snakes were in them gunny sacks a wrigglin' all over the floor"...Actually, there were no snakes. Oscar, developing into the typical religious businessman had started the rumor himself to attract the crowd. He would often brag to Esther that he"hadn't spent all those yars in the 8th grade fer nuthin' ".

Oscar would preach and beg and plead and arouse the crowds to great passions. Then Esther , who was a famous tongue talker, that babbling prattle that only the "talker" and God could understand, would rise from her seat, raise her hands in the air and incite the congregation even more. This night, Oscar was just reaching his fever pitch, pleading with the crowd to give him a big AMEN, when Esther suddenly rose from her seat, holding the Amish cowbell in one hand and her frayed Bible in the other and fell forward, twitched a little and then lay

Oscar just kept right on a preachin', cause he was used to Esther's twitchins until Brother Clarence Alvey, who was just coming out of the john from sneaking a smoke, turned Esther over, saw her glazed eyes and announced, "I'm afraid she's a goner, pastor."

Oscar ignored the proclomation and announced to the congregation that he and Esther would meet with them in the Fellowship Room for refreshments.

Oscar would never recognize Esther's death. He did not attend the funeral and though only 50 years old when she died, he would never return to the church. He and Martha lived together in the little farm house on the pension left to him by his far seeing relative. At meal time, Martha would set the table for the three of them, and at bed time, Oscar would make sure Esther's pillow was plumped just the way she liked it. He would sit in his rocker in front of the old Magnavox 12" black and white tv turned to PTL on Channel 3 which was the only one he could get, and watch Jim and Tammy and Pat and Jimmy Swaggart and when Jimmy pleaded for forgiveness for whoring around and Pat asked them one more time for money, money, money, and Tammy cried, he would turn to Esther's empty chair and say,"Esther, baby, they truly have the callin' ".

He would live to be 92, talking daily to his phantom wife, peaceful and content, which led most of the people in the town to observe that that Wallace feller on that 60 minutes was sure right on that special, you sure do live longer if you have a happy marriage...

Ted adjusted his tie in the big round mirror above the fireplace in the family living room. Thinking about his valedictorian speech he was to give that day at his graduation, he thoughtfully studied his reflection. He had almost grown tired of his striking good looks. When he had cut his hair to about 1" in a fit of rage he had been seeking to detract from his appearance, but it had only emphasized the strong cleft chin and high cheek bones and the green-blue eyes seemed to blaze with an internal fire that drew people to him. He now stood 6'6", dwarfing both his father and his older brother, Clyde, who was two years his senior.

How in the hell could he feel so old at 19? Could he still be a teen ager? How could it be possible?

He studied the photos on display on the broad brick fireplace mantel, paying particular attention to one of his parents on their wedding day. Mabel, tall and slender, her long blond hair blowing in a spring breeze, her chin tilted at the usual "kiss me" angle she automatically assumed whenever she was with Win. Win was resting his bullet head on her shoulder, looking straight down his new wife's dress into her ample bosom. 'jus' like the ol' man..probly countin' the minutes til he could get 'er into thuh sack', thought Ted.

He looked at another photo, this time his mother was holding his two year old brother, and Win, grinning broadly, his big nose emphasized by the afternoon shadows, was patting her distended abdomen that was heavy with the approaching birth of the new baby. 'what the hell is it that makes a man think that if he's made a baby, he's more of a man?'....

And how many times had he heard his mother do a recitation of the births of her sons? Was that the only goddamned thing in life to these people? Bedding and begetting and talking about it? What the hell was life all about to these residents of this fuckin' little town? Ball games and bowling and screwing around on each other and drinkin' at the Country Alley on Fridays where they had a real live band on Saturdays and some real strippers sometimes and playing pool at the local pool hall and bragging how many times they'd gotten it that week. Was that all there was ever going to be?

He looked at the brass framed 6x9 photo taken of him and his mother when he was 3. She, beautiful in her youth, wrinkling her nose at her golden boy while he waved a dandelion under her nose. It gagged him.

There was a picture of the "twins", Win and Clyde, both big musculed hulks, bullet, almost shaven heads, big noses spread across their faces by a broad grin, holding cans of Miller's aloft, their bare chests identical, except for the pot belly Win was developing with age. Clyde was muscular and firm and proud of the manhood that bulged in his tight jeans.

He scanned a recent photo of Clyde and his new wife, Ida May. There stood Clyde in those tight jeans, bare to the waist along side Ida May, who was a tall, skinny Olive Oyl looking woman. Her hand was where it always was any time she was near Clyde, resting possessively on his thigh. They were now living in an apartment above his uncle Sam's garage, rent free while Clyde worked in the garage.

Ida May worked at the local CVS pharmacy for 5.00 an hour and all the condoms she could steal. Clyde thought they were set for life.

Ted could not even imagine being married at Clyde's young age. But he knew most of his classmates were headed in that direction.

They had been pairing off since middle school and by the time graduation rolled around, there would be a number of weddings. The boys would head for Anderson and General Motors assembly lines or the luckier ones would go to college. Get the hell away from this town. Some of the girls would continue their educations, but most would marry gradually througout the year, following in their mothers' footsteps. By this time next year the population would have increasesd as couples coupling would produce new generations.

'Why the hell do they think they have to have babies?' thought Ted,'Why can't we just be permitted to just lay down and enjoy each other and forget all that bull shit the church teaches?'

He glanced out the window and saw Chet Fielding pull into his drive next door and wondered where Greta was. He hadn't seen her for quite a while. Their affair had ended over a year ago. Greta was Chet's wife and she had had her eye on young Ted Hamilton for quite a while. She would attend all the high school basketball games and made it a practice to sit exactly in Ted's line of view when he would be lined up to make a free throw.

Ted recalled the first time he had seen her there, Chet was stuffing his fat face with pop corn and trying to balance a coke on his knee and Greta had spread her legs and given Ted a crotch shot that made him miss his free shot. He grinned recalling how his mouth had suddenly gotten so dry he could have spit cotton and how sweaty his hand were and the stirring in his jock strap and some of the feelings returned as he played the memory game.

He had made his mind up then and there he was going to show her he wasn't anyone to fool with. The next day he had waited til she drove up to unload her groceries and offered to carry them in for her. He followed her into the kitchen and from then on, it had all been smooth sailing. He remembered the sway of her fat ass as she had preceded him up the walk way and could still hear the click, click, click of her high heels and see the thick ankles and the varicose veins, but he was a man on a mission and he had accepted the coke she had offered him and followed her into the den. IU was playing Michigan and Bob Knight was raising hell with the refs and any other time Ted would have been glued to the tv but this was not like any other time, ever. It seemed one minute he was standing beside her and the next he was astride her. He had stayed all afternoon and barely made it out of the house before Chet Fielding had arrived home from the bowling alley and didn't even have time to shower before Saturday night mass.

Their trysts had continued until mid April. One passionate Saturday afternoon she had given him and ID bracelet and on another she had presented him with a gold crested ring. She had carressed his hand as she placed the ring on his finger, letting her wet lips run down his chest and into his crotch, and then pressing herself into him. He was actually repulsed by her actions but seemed to react almost mechanically and didn't know how to break away. She was like a hulking Medusa, beckoning him, her fat thighs enticing him and he was only 17 and was thinking what a goddamn man he was. He found that if he tilted the venitian blinds a certain way, she wasn't so bad in that light. He couldn't see the blue eye shadow, or the wrinkles around her crimson lip stick smeared mouth, or the creases in her thick neck or the fat dimples in her ass and if he turned his head just a little to the right, her kiss would fall on his cheek instead of his mouth and he didn't have to smell the cigarette breath.

He had found that he could talk to Chet about basketball and defense and other trivia while running a replay of an afternoon romp with Greta in his mind. Her hands fondling him, her mouth doing all those things to him that other boys his age only imagined. That was when he knew he was becoming an adult. Boy plus deceit equals man equals adult. A simple equation

He was busy at school with play try outs and final exams and had been gone from her for about two weeks and then one Saturday when he was getting ready to pay her a surprise visit he saw the star pitcher of the Redemption Rockets, Jerry Long, a tall, lanky boy with a shock of black hair and a swagger that told everyone he was a star, leaving Greta's house. After that, Ted stayed away. No seconds or thirds for this boy.

Jerry was a regular until one Saturday the power failed at the Ten Pin Bowl-a Rama and Chet came home early. Ted saw Jerry leave holding a bloody tissue to his nose and the following Monday Greta and Chet Fielding were headed down state road 37 to the Jimmy Swaggart revival in Marion. Jimmy had pleaded over channel 3 televisiion for all lost souls in the area to join him for the glory of Jeee-sus. Chet went to the altar and Greta got herself saved 3 times in one week. She told Chet she just didn't know what there was about that man, Jimmy Swaggart, but he had just cast a spell over her. They left Marion cleansed in both soul and purse, having left $500.00 with Swaggart who said it would be donated to the fund for unwed mothers of whom he had personal knowledge. When Greta arrived home, the neighbors noticed that the beauty shop bouffant hair do was now done in a knot at the base of her thick neck, the short skirts were now demure house dresses, the high heels were now flats and later that summer, when Ted was out in the drive shooting baskets and glanced her way and the curtain fluttered, their old signal, and Ted gave her one of his engaging smiles, someone must have been watching, because the next day, old Chet put up a privacy fence.

As Ted reminisced, waiting for his parents to join him in the trip to the high school auditorium, he thought about how much in his young life had revolved around sports and sex. He felt his life had been normal in that way. He had had an intimate relationship with only one person with the ecxception of old Mrs. Fielding for two years, Mary Lou Binder, the head cheer leader had been his steady companion. Most of his friends in Redemption paired off like that. It was not unusual.

He knew that his parents still had an active sex life. He would hear them through the thin walls from time to time and though he'd try not to listen and it embarrassed him, he would sometimes find himself eavesdropping. He grinned when he recalled the night that his mother had thought she was alone in the house and he had been across the hall doing some reading in Clyde's old room. He recalled that it had been raining and he heard her give a big sigh as she settled in. Win was out at a union meeting and Mabel was going to get some rest.

Mabel was indeed asleep. She had put in a trying day volunteering at the the new nursing home that a Brother Alvey from the little protestant church across town had founded. Win hadn't wanted her to get involved with a non-Catholic activity but Father Dunne had told the Rosary Society Women that it was the Christian thing to do, that volunteerism was a non sectarian duty and knew no religious bounds so she had signed on. She had been appalled at the old people lined up in wheel chairs,peeing on themselves and the few who were engaged in ongoing conversations with themselves or an invisible friend and had been horrified and embarrassed by the distinguished looking man who had met her in the lobby, unzipped his pants, took out his penis and asked her if she wanted to do it. She had politely replied, "No, thank you", and hurried out.

She had heard that Brother Alvey, after he had become pastor of the little church had decided to get actively involved in the care of the sick when he opened the "Rehabilitation Facility". But as time went on and if his census declined and new patients did not arrive, he would contact a state hospital and import some crazies to pad the census. The medicaid paid well but some of the imported patients could be dangerous which she thought probably accounted for the man in the lobby. If she told Win he wouldn't let her go back and if you put in 75 hours you got a plaque and your picture in the Redemption Call and Mabel was big on plaques.

So this night she took a hot bath and as she snuggled deep in her bed, gloriously alone and dreaming she was a little girl again on a bright red pony on a merry-go-round, she suddenly awoke to the steady movement of the bed and the familiar motions of Win astride her. She had known the familiar feel of his heavy body since she was 16 years old and loved it on occasion but this night she resented her gown being scooted aside and him groping at her breast with one hand while fumbling for the tv remote with the other. She sleepily saw the dim flicker of the tv screen as it lit up the room and heard the voices of Steve Stone and Harry Carey as Harry said,"It might be, it could be, IT IS!"

Win had increased his frantic movements with the tempo of Harry's commentary and rolled huffing and puffing away from her at the "IT IS!" She'd heard the click of his cigarette lighter and the deep intake of his breath and then listened as he exhaled satisfactorily and heard him mutter to no one in particular ,"goddamn cubs got their asses beat again."

She sat indignantly up in bed, pulled her gown around her and said accusingly,"Winthrop Hamilton, you didn't even so much as kiss me!"He had put out his smoke,flicked off the tv on the way to the bathroom and said , "For Christ's sakes, Mabel, who the hell kisses when they're watchin' a goddamn ball game?"

She recalled at the time she didn't think she'd ever forgive him but she had gradually grown accustomed to her new kind of sex life and it was now a usual practice. Win had gotten so he could time himself with the 11:00 o'clock news and sometimes with Mabel beneath him and one hand caressing her breast he would watch a show or an entire ball game, including the commercials on a good night and depending on how much he'd had to drink. And sometimes it was all worth it on those mornings when he would nuzzle her ear and ask "was it good for you?" Often she was able to answer,"yes!". Those were the nights she didn't wake up.

As Ted awaited the arrival of his parents he continued his thought pattern. Remembering....

And he remembered how he had thought numbly to himself, only for the rest of my goddamn life...

Ted remembered taking the Tylenol 3's and drinking a lot of coffee to keep him awake that night. Mabel would sit with him and when she would see her wounded son start to nod she'd nudge him to keep him awake and eventually she had him so full of Folger's that by 6:00A he's pissed about a dozen times, staggering into the bathroom unsteadily, shrugging off her arm, wanting to at least be left alone for that bit of intimacy. His head was spinning from a tylenol high and the codeine was making him itch. About 10:00A he'd fallen across his bed and was in a kind of half sleep when he'd heard that voice. Downstairs, inquiring about his condition.

"Well, jus' thought I'd kinda stop by, check on 'im, always concerned about my kids, yuh knows how I am.."and the voice trailed off and became muffled as the two men exited the house and Ted heard the motor of a car rev and knew the other man had left as he heard Win's heavy step on the stairs. He lay trembling on the bed as his father entered the room. "He was just wanting to know how yuh were doin', heard you were in an accident of some kind," said Win, "He's a goddamn nice guy."

Ted suddenly gagged and headed for the bathroom, surrendering himself to a case of dry heaves as he tried to vomit his guts out all over again.

After his father left, disgusted at the show of weakness his son was displaying, Ted examined himself in the full length mirror. A tall, handsome young man, almost shoulder length blond hair that his mother doted on.She had always cut his hair herself since he had been a child, while Win had taken Clyde to the crew cut guy up town on the corner across from the police station...Ted's hair had always been an arguing point with his parents. He had let his mother win, not because of any love for her but because the girls all seemed to like it. He stood 6'6" tall, broad shoulders, narrow waist, flat stomach, sturdy legs from working out, the All American Boy....with a big apple size bruise on his high forehead and a bump the size of an egg. His right eye was swollen tight, the green-blue pupil not visible, while the left was blood shot . There was a gash above his eye and a long ugly path that marked the sutures that closed the wound he had sustained in his battle. 'I sure as hell don't look so purty now...', he thought as he examined the stitches.

He suddenly felt the need for a shower, and weakly entered the stall and as he felt the sting of the steamy water knew that he would never feel clean again. He started to dry his hair and then suddenly threw the dryer across the floor, grabbed an old pair of scissors from the medicine cabinet and whacked away at his blond locks until his hair was about an inch all over his head and he was standing in a pile of silky blond hair that stuck to his damp feet and made his back itch and his throat feel sticky and he suddenly vomited into the mess. Then he slowly and deliberately put the point of the scissors into the gash in his head and removed the stitches, renewing the bleeding in the raw wound and almost glorying in the pain, knowing that the throbbing meant that maybe he was alive after all. He looked at himself once again in the steamy bathroom mirror, with the blood running freely down his face, and wiped at it angrily, thinking once again, 'well, you son of a bitch, you ain't so purty now..'

When his mother saw him, she was so upset over his appearance she cried. But Win liked it and said it made him look like a man. Ted had replied,"Dad, it takes more than a haircut to make a man, I'm probably more of an adult right now then you'll ever be."

He had walked out, not waiting for Win's reply and went to his room to reapply peroxide to the wound, just to feel the pain. And as the bruise on his forehead started to heal and turn all those rainbow colors he was tempted more than once to run his head against the wall to renew the injury.

He was dismayed when he found the new haircut only stressed his good looks. And the scar would eventually heal into a little furrow that women would call sexy. He hated his looks and he hated himself.

He recalled how he had not attended the basketball awards banquet but sent his parents in his stead, pleading a headache. He had cancelled the prom date with Mary Lou Bender and let his best friend Bo Nash escort her in his stead. Prom stuff was for kids and he had grown up over a month ago. Bo said he'd be glad to take her, but how was she for 'after prom"?...Would she, you know...?

Ted had replied, "Yuh mean will she let you fuck 'er....? Hell yes, try it, you'll like it.."

He was ashamed for talking about her like that afterwards, but then he saw Bo at the pool room the very next week and he was bragging about the after prom and Ted thought what the hell?...everyone uses someone else.

Now today was graduation day, and he was the valedictorian. As his mother and dad entered the room, both beaming at him, his mother was dressed in her new blue dress that emphsized and complimented her graying hair, and his father was wearing his old stand by blue suit that was kept for weddings and funerals and graduations. Ted thought they looked very nice, but he sure as hell wasn't going to tell them. He took a pin on corsage of white roses he had bought for his mother and pinned it to her dress as she kissed him, ran her fingers through the shortened hair and caressed the reddened deep scar as he pulled away from her roughly.

He thought to himself as they left the house and saw his mother and dad wave to Chet and Greta Fielding, what a fuckin' farce. This stuff is for kids. Graduation? Hell, I graduated a goddamned month ago in a shower stall...

But he donned his gray cap and gown and headed for the gym where the ceremonies were being held. He listened to the silly jokes of the guest speaker, some half assed congressman from the 3rd District who was begging for votes and heard the high school superintendent Harold Foley introduce him. As if in a dream he walked to the podium to address the crowd seated on folding chairs on a tarp covered hard wood basket ball floor. He held his head high and looked the crowd straight in the eyes as he said, "As we prepare to enter the adult world,let us scrutinize the adult role models to which we have been exposed all of our lives. If we find them wanting in any of the values that we have been taught during our formative years, let us find the courage to recognize and define the flaws that have them what they are and concentrate on correcting those faults within ourselves. Let us focus on the future, attain our goals and not be lulled to sleep in a sleepy town that has little to offer. Let us never stop our quest for knowledge and resolve to be just a little bit better."

His father said afterwards that his son's words were downright insulting. His mother said she didn't know where he had gotten those ideas. His grandparents had applauded,not knowing or caring what he was talking about. His grandfather, Roscoe, had to leave early, he had contacted a little cough. Prowling and the nippy spring air did not mix.

Ted skipped the graduation parties. He didn't like to drink and he thought the silly jokes his friends told were disgusting. He had frequent headaches and he would poke the wound above his eyes just to keep it red and raw. He liked the pain. One night he took the ID bracelet Greta Fielding had given him when he was a kid way back in March and flushed it and the ring down the john and went to bed early, watching tv with the sound off. Silly comedies with their sexual inuendos. He would be watching them and then his mind would wander back, back , back to that day in May when he had entered a school shower stall a carefree teenager with nothing on his mind but the senior prom and left it a cynical , bitter and abused young man.

He was finding it more difficult to sleep at night. He would find himself tossing and turning and sometimes he would go into the bathroom and just stare at himself in the mirror. The green eyes studying the boy-man and it was then that he would take the scissors and reopen the wound above his eyebrow , not satisfied until he made it bleed, renewing his hatred for the person who had ruined his life. He would see the blood and hear again in his mind...."purrty boy....let's see here, purrrty boy.....see if you're a man....purrrty boy.....there...purrty boy...."

Sometimes the voice would wake him and he'd throw on a pair of sweats and run and run down the old saw mill road until he was exhausted enough to sleep and go home, flop in the sofa until his mother would rouse him and send him off to bed where he would lie wide awake, cursed by the shower movie playing over and over in his tormented mind.

One late June night, Coach Andy Andrews had just finished a night of drinking with his lodge brothers at the Elks Club, and after consuming about six boiler makers and knowing he had about 20 miles yet to drive, pulled his new Corvette off on the saw mill road to nap a little before continuing on his way. He knew the cops wouldn't give him a ticket, because he, after all was the coach and they always looked the other way, but for his own safety and to keep his car intact, he thought it best if he just caught a few zzz's before going on his way.

He knew Estelle, his wife wouldn't be worried. She was used to him coming in all hours. She had long ago convinced herself that what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. As for the time he had been accused by that horrible assistant coach, well, that wasn't Andy's fault. Everyone knows how high school girls are always flaunting themselves at teachers. She'd heard the girl had had an abortion, maybe she'd learned her lesson. Maybe she'd leave her Andy alone.

Coach Andrews took the keys out of the ignition and placed them on the dash, rolled down a window to keep the warm spring breeze coming in and the fumes out, leaned his head back on the seat, made himself comfortable and closed his eyes for all eternity.

The next morning, patrolman Barney Gyers , a member of the Redemption police department found the parked car by accident. He was just returning from chasing some teen agers who heard had been smoking marijuana, they had eluded him again and he was thoroughly pissed and ready to write the damned fool who had parked his car here a citation. He took his book, strutted over to the car and then stepped back in horror. The keys were in the ignition and the windows sealed. Coach Andy Andrews was bloated, blue and dead. The patrolman found a sleeve of a Redemption High letter sweater stuffed in the tail pipe of the new black corvette. The rest of the black and white sweater with Redemption High on the back was found on the shoulder of the road. The initials had been removed, but no one thought anything of it.

When questioned , the guys at the Elks club said that Andrews had been in pretty good spirits when he left. Was braggin' on how he'd gotten laid earlier in the evening. But then, you can never tell about these sensitive guys, kinda moody sometimes, but sure did seem kinda drastic measures just cause you'd had a losin' season...