She sighed, resignedly. Her mind was in a whirl. Dear God! How had Mrs. Keaton known…? How had she guessed…? I didn't tell her…! Daddy's really never… done anything… but… Oh, God… the way he looks at me… sometimes! I know he must be thinking some awful thoughts… about me! Thinking about sex-things… maybe about things he'd like to do to me! Oh, God! It's just horrible… living in our house… with him! But what can I do…? Dear God… What can I do?

***

And Don knew that Jack Roberts would be there. He was always there, except for the times when he got busted and was hauled off to Juvenile Hall for possession of drugs. Somehow Jack was always clean. The fuzz couldn't pin anything on him, even when they put on the big crunch.

Jack was sitting on a bench at one of the outdoor tables, a stringy-haired blonde sitting next to him, hanging on his every word. He was a heavy dude, for sure, as far as the chicks were concerned. Looking up, he saw Don approaching and said, "Split, baby… here comes a dude looking for a hit… like, you know, bread first, meat later."

Don sat down, giving the mini-skirted chick a long look at her cute, little behind, the skirt barely covering it, as she twitched away to join a knot of girls, giggling about some confidence just exchanged.

"Man… like she comes on strong…" Jack said.

"Must be something else…" Don agreed; then, "You mowing any grass. Today…?"

"How much you need, man…?" Jack's voice toneless.

"Ten roaches…"

"Only ten…?" Jack turned away. "Man, I ain't got the time…"

"It's all I got bread for…" Don was desperate.

"You know how much… put it in the saddle-bag on your hog!" Jack said.

"It's already there!"

"About ten minutes, then," Jack told him. "But I don't know why in hell I should take a chance on being busted for ten lousy roaches? Christ!"

"Shit! I can't buy it by the ounce, yet!" Don flared.