Her heart swelled to suffocation. That night in his den he smoked many pipes. He reached for her and she stroked his head soothingly as his mother had done a few times when he had suffered bad fevers. When the word “FREAK” appeared scratched in the persimmon colored paint on her locker, she knew that in some fragile young woman’s mind a war had escalated from imaginary to physical. " "Peace!" retorted Jack, with increased bitterness. I bear the marks of some of them about me still," he continued, taking off his wig, and laying bare a bald skull, covered with cicatrices and plates of silver.
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