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driver to take her to her former friend’s home. Once there, she’d plainly upset the cabbie—by bestowing, on him, a “generous” ten-cent tip. The driver had, at that point, made a rather ribald parting comment. as the “cripple”—gimpily, once more—made her way, up to the two-story, brick, dwelling! Puffing slightly, she rang the bell.

Deborah Hendricks—clad in an oversized man’s shirt, and rather baggy jeans—answered the door.

“Sheila!” It was almost a gasp. “What… what are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you to invite me in… for openers,” snapped her guest.

“Oh! Oh, yes! Yes, of course. Come… come on in.”

The pair walked into the larger-than-normal living room. Debbie took the newcomer’s coat—and offered a cup of, made-an-hour-before, coffee. The offer was turned down—as Sheila seated herself, on the long, white-leather, couch. The hostess, then, plopped herself, into her favorite recliner—located well across the room. Reclining was far—from her priority, at that moment. She remained—perched on the edge, of the gigantic, velvet-looking, chair.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this… of this… this visit?” she asked, rather hoarsely.

“Debbie, I want to know! And I don’t want any bullshit! Where is Jason? If he’s here, then… goddam it… you’ve both had your little, stupid-assed, joke! And it’s time for him… to get his ass, on home! I won’t say anything! Won’t do anything! And I won’t even be mad! I just…”

“Look… Sheila! I’ve told you… twice now… that he’s not here! That I’ve not seen him! Told you that, twice! Over the phone! I don’t know what I’m going to have to do! To convince you, that I haven’t the faintest idea… not the foggiest damn clue . . . as to where he is! Or where he might’ve gone! Where he might be! In fact, I’ve reached a point… a point, where I don’t much give a damn, what you think! Don’t give a damn . . . whether you believe me, or not! He’s not here! I’ve not seen him! Period! Goddam paragraph! If you don’t believe me? Then there’s really nothing I can…”

“Can I look through the house?”

“No, goddam it! NO! You can’t look through the house! I’m telling you! I’m telling you… that I haven’t the foggiest notion, where Jason might be! I’m worried about him too! As worried as you are! Maybe more than you are!. Probably more than you are! He’s not, you know, a source of… of welfare funds… not for me!”

“SO! So… you did have something going! Something going . . . with him! I’ve always suspected, y’know! Always knew . . . that you’d seduced Jason! Seduced him… probably many times over! I’ve always believed that, y’know!”

“Well… I don’t know how to put this politely . . . but, you’ve got your head, up your ass! I’ve never laid a glove, on the kid! Gave him an eyeful of leg . . . actually, a generous eyeful of leg… from time to time! An occasional glimpse of my panties . . . which I’d always worn, on those occasions! But, hell! The kid had to have something . . . to cheer him up! To give him some little bit, of pleasure… from time to time! He certainly wasn’t very happy… in his young life. Grossly unhappy… with his young life! So, if I could give him a cheap thrill . . . every now and then… then, what was the harm?”

“Cheap thrill? You always had your ass . . . in his face! All the time! Rubbing your ass . . . all up against him! All the time! Don’t tell me . . . that you didn’t go farther! A lot farther! Much farther… than that! A helluva lot farther, than those… what you call simply cheap thrills How do I know… that they weren’t… ?”

“I really could care less . . . what you think! Or what you think you know! What you freaking believe! I’ve never taken the kid, to bed! Maybe I should have! Probably I should have! Should’ve, probably, given him more . . . a helluva lot more… than just a damn cheap thrill! Should’ve given him something . . . to enjoy! Something to really enjoy! God knows… he’s never gotten any kind of happiness, at home! Especially… since your father passed away!”

“How dare you say that? I’ve given him everything! Everything I possibly could!”

“Yeah,” sneered her hostess. Everything! Up to, and including, a glorious seventh . . . or, maybe, even a sixth . . . of his own damn paycheck! Wonderful! You’re the epitome . . . of saintly charity . . . there!”

“Listen! Since my accident, I haven’t been able to…”

“Oh, Sheila! Can it! You and that hokey… totally falsified . . . crip bullshit! You know… and I know… that it’s all bullshit!”

“What do you mean . . . bullshit? What do you mean… falsified? Why, since then, I’ve been…”

“Since then, you’ve been living off… a whole bunch of bullshit! Let me . . . let me tell you something: I’m pretty tight with Mark Martin… down at WWJ. They’re working, y’know… on an expose! Right now! About falsified medical prognoses! About all the many payoffs! And all the graft and corruption . . . in falsifying claims! Claims… to insurance companies. And… yes… to the various welfare agencies! Including Social Security! And your buddy . . . Dr. Keltner… he’s in the thing! In it… good! Up to his corrupt butt . . . he’s, smack-dab, in this thing! In fact, I believe that he’s, actually, the center of attraction, for all this corrupt . . .”

“What do you mean . . . corrupt? Why, I’ll have you know that…”

“That what? That you were sleeping with him? Putting out… to Doctor Keltner? Hell, everyone knows that! Everyone knows that! How many times did you have to let him boff you… before he phonied up his so-called diagnosis? How many dozens of times… did you have to spread, for him?”

“You… you bitch! He did not . . .”

“Of course he jolly well did! And not only are the taxpayers . . . like, for instance, me . . . picking up the tab! Been picking it up… for damn years! But, your poor son! He has had to bear… bear the brunt of all this! Had to get stuck . . . paying for something, as phony as…”

“I’m not going to sit here and listen to this!”

“Fine! Don’t! Who the hell invited you . . . in the first damn place? I’m telling you, Sheila, that… when this thing hits

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