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It was Peg, calling from Connecticut just before dawn

“Did you ever have a wife, nao for a teachers’ conference in Hartford? Why haven’t you called?”

“I did But you weren’t in your room I left my name Christ, I wish you were home”

“Oh, dear me,” she said slowly, syllable by syllable “I leave town and right off you’re in deep granola You want mama to fly home?”

“Yes No It’s just the usual studio junk” I hesitated

“Why are you counting to ten?” she asked

“God,” I said

“There’s no escaping Hiood boy? Go drop a penny in one of those scales that print your weight in purple ink, mail it to me Hey,” she added, “I mean it You want me to fly home? Tomorrow?”

“I love you, Peg,” I said “Come home just as you planned”

“But what if you’re not there when I get there? Is it still Halloween?”

Women and their intuition!

“They’ve held it over for another week”

“I could tell by your voice Stay out of graveyards”

“What made you say that!?”

My heart gave a rabbit jump