There were no boundaries here, there was no consideration for personal space, no hesitation to make contact. It was frightening, leaving her feeling u...moored from the social conventions that had defined her life up to this point, and yet it was somehow liberating.Humans lived in an invisible hamster ball, repelling one another like the opposite ends of a magnet when they got too close. Touching a stranger, or even a friend without express permission was a social faux pas at best, and an affront. "Shh baby girl. Shh." It was Aunty June's voice, but her tone soundedabnormally calm and soothing. "Here darling." She gently plucked out mydummy teat and replaced it with the nipple of a baby bottle. Cool watertrickled down my throat and I grabbed the heavy vessel to prevent itstriking me in the face. Aunty lowered the side of my crib and flippedmy slippery nylon nightie over my tummy, then tugged down my cracklingbaby panties to my ankles. "You're so wet!" She whispered, but shedidn't sound. He just went back around the other side, gotin and took off, leaving me standing in front of the house by myself.Depressed, I went into the house and found a quiet corner in which to cryaway my hurt. Once I was done, I galvanized myself into action. I calledFrank Tarkington for some information.Frank was aghast at the charges that were being leveled against John. Oneof his co-workers had contacted him because of his friendship with John.Frank felt that something was amiss, also, when I told him. You’re gonna’ love the size of this one!” Johnny and I walked to the back lot where all the “vintage” cars were parked. In the rear of the lot sat a gold 1970-something Chrysler New Yorker with a peeling vinyl roof. It was nestled back in a corner like some sexy old queen accompanied by her court: a dinged-up red Chevy Impala and a rusty-white ‘83 Ford Fairlane. I felt right then… she might be the one. “Rich Corinthian leather… a spacious interior… a rear console that folds up for more room..
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