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Down in the dungeon, I told her about my tests from the night before. She agreed to a quick test. She gave a start when it first started, giving me a hard look from across the room.“That's so weird,” she said, “you were way over there, but I could feel you touching me.”“Wait a minute,” I said, “ you felt 'me' touching you? Not just 'somebody' touching you?”“Yes, I could tell it was you.” she said.“Last night, when I tried it, I felt like a guy was touching me. Let's run a test just like the other day, except this time I'll wear the headset.”I set things up just like the day before yesterday, stripped off my shirt, pulled on the headset, and stretched out in the reclining chair.“Just start the timer and hit the record button,” I told her, “ the timer will chime about every five seconds. When it does, move to the next location.”She clicked where I told her and began touching me; hand, forearm, upper arm and so on. A bit later I heard the timer chime twice without her touching me,. She grimaced as she rolled up her sleeves. ‘Do you remember these freckles?’ He nodded, thinking of their early romance. He used to call her ‘My little druggie,’ which caused her to throw pillows and sometimes even paperback books dangerously close to his head. ‘Well you were right, more right than you knew.’ She looked away and began to cry. Her husband started to reach for her. ‘Stop,’ she whispered, ‘Let me talk.’ He leaned back into the couch and tried to breath through his confusion. She continued in a low, ferocious whisper. ‘On Wednesday nights, I would go to my women’s self defence class.’ She paused. Our instructor was a tough little marine named Deborah.’ She turned and looked him straight in the eye. ‘Deborah… Veronica… Starr.’ He could only stare, mouth suddenly dry, an understanding dawning slowly through a thick grey fog. ‘After class we would go out for ginseng coolers and all that crap. I would step outside the coffee house and score some smack. One day Dee, Debbie,.
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