Help might be on the way. His wife was out there somewhere. He stretched one leg where the rope seemed a bit looser and went back on the attack with a...smile. "Then you cut his cock off, didn't you? What were you two doing that it was hanging out where you could reach it?" That's right, I did. Kicked it into the Potomac. He deserved it. Made fun of me, and I was paying him five pounds a week. Then I pushed him and his guts into the river and laughed at him as he thrashed about, screaming,. Finally he got up, and paced the floor for a few minutes. He looked atRonnie, who was looking back at him a little worried."Please don't do anything rash," she asked."I won't. But, this just makes me so mad." I know honey. But, this was what bothered me so much when we firststarted seeing each other. Remember me telling you about that oneboyfriend who got beat up?" Yea. I know it bothered you. Your mom told me that your only problemwith us, was me being hurt by someone like this." She did?". Many times I thought if I had gone through some of the things he had gone through over the years, I'd have probably hanged myself.Little did I know when we first met him, Henry had a reason to live, and not be depressed (Laughing). More accurately he had a reason to be elated, quite the opposite of his diagnosis. Down the coast he had a boat, not a bass boat mind you, a very large nice boat. When he first described it though, I thought "Yep, he's nuts," or "Oh I bet it's a blow up raft with a. "OK, let's get this show on the road," Mrs Rhodes said behind me, herhigh, warbling voice pregnant with excitement, "Cathy, ramp the music upa little."I cast a final, imploring glance at my Aunt, but found no sympathythere. Her face was hard, stern, accusing. I knew that expression frompainful experience. "You're going to do this," she said, "right here,right now, and without another word!"I choked back on my tears, knowing there was no room for debate, no roomfor negotiation. She'd reached her.