No. Social studies? No. What then? Boyfriends,
kissing, petting, making babies! Her brain is so full of
that stuff, she can't concentrate on anything I tell her
to do. And she's asking me questions that would
embarrass a prostitute!"
"I didn't tell her anything a girl her age
shouldn't know, things girls younger than her know," "Who told you to tell her anything?"
"Why do you want to keep her so socially
innocent and ignorant?" I fired back, my eyes small
with accusations. "Why would you want that?" Instead of answering, he ignored me and
continued with his assault. "And then you show her
that... naked doll, a life-size, naked doll with... with
pubic hair? How could you do that?" he asked,
grimacing. "Did you get some sort of sick pleasure out
of watching how she reacted?"
"You don't understand what happened.'" "Right. I don't understand. At least you're smart
enough to realize that. My advice to you is to just pick
up and leave. Get into that motor home, drive off. and
go live with one of your own relatives, the first ones
who'll take you in."
"Oh, you're such a goody-goody, so protective
of poor Echo, so worried I would corrupt her, while
you go and carve your initials in a heart in that rock
with her and get her to think you're going to be her
boyfriend."
"Rock?"
"For your information, she showed me how you
touched her, too! In places you shouldn't have! I've
been thinking about telling Mrs. Westington. only I
didn't want to start a whole mess after being here so