She was absolutely beautiful. He had noticed that she kept her eyes closed, and he realized that she didn’t know that he was there. Part of him want...d to leave her alone with her grief, and he had almost left the room when something inside urged him to pause. A larger, more foreign part of him wanted him to stay. He stood in the doorway, his instincts warring over whether or not he should make himself known to her, help her. He walked over to her and offered her his handkerchief. He remembered. She swept the apartment and called Bev."Hi," she said, "I'm done and I'm dead, and I'll be there as soon as I can."She walked out the door with the suitcase she had packed and left the key with the superintendent. At Bev and Jerry's apartment she was met at the door with hugs, kisses and a large glass of iced tea. "That's only temporary — to get you re-hydrated — we've got wine and anything else you can think of. Sit down, have a drink and don't say anything for ten minutes." Bev forced her. She bought it from a roadside artist, whom she praised for some of his pieces. Then he told her that if she really wanted his best pieces, he could show them to her in secret. He didn’t usually show those on the street, for a whole variety of reasons. When she visited his shop, she knew why he didn't sell his best pieces. They would have been called pornography by people in public. They were all very artistic, in spite of their intensely carnal content, and one among them, in particular,. "With nothing interesting on the television Joe closed the privacy shades and went to sleep.After breakfast next morning he was on I-70 heading west. He wanted to get to St Louis and go to the top of the Arch. He had been to this city a few times with the President but he never had the opportunity to go to the top of the Arch.In arriving at the Arch he could see that there was a line of people waiting but it didn't seem to be an overly long wait. Going up in the Arch's elevator had Joe being.