Every time I passed the pond, I became more and more depressed. I guess the pond was a part of my life, but it seems kind of sad that I placed so much...importance on it. I knew I had to get away. I just didn’t know how, or when, or even why. I wasn’t completely sure what I was going to do once I did leave. I just knew. And somehow I knew that the pond had the answer. Late at night I would sneak out, but not to get drunk with some friends, not even to meet some illegitimate boyfriend. It was to. He is in room seven at the Nightlite Motel just across the river from here. He wants to come back to work. He asked me to speak to someone that wouldn't sic the cops on him. He said he was trying to make something right, but didn't give me any details." I'll go see what he has to say. Thanks." I went directly to my van and drove the five miles to the motel. I knocked on the door."Who is it?" I'm from O'Donnell Construction. Pete said you wanted to talk."The door opened as far as the chain would. She was simultaneously aware of the pounding in her chest and the dampness between her legs. Patiently, he stood in the corner ... in the shadows ... as her eyes adjusted to the soft light and her mind adjusted to the situation. He was dressed wholly in black .... a turtleneck, slacks and casual shoes, which highlighted his face and his hands with their elegant fingers. He offered her a glass of white wine, served with a warm smile. "Good evening," he said, the rich, familiar timber of his. 'ease 'e'ease 'e. I 'eed a 'ee". Obviously he didn't find anything wrong and he made fun of my feeble attempt at communicating my predicament. "What are you saying? You sound like a baby or a village idiot."I tried several times to let him know what I wanted and he laughed at me. "Because you made me think that you were in pain, I'll turn off the Baby Alarm and leave you in peace for the rest of the journey." That was all. He closed the side door, entered the front seat and drove off.It only.