She saw his suspicious leer. His bucking speed up. I saw that Regis’ door was latched. “They look good on you.” I followed loudly. “My husband was a coward. “They feel soft.” He mumbled. “No thanks are necessary. Shame poured over me like a baptism from the devil. I was stupid then. How do they fit?” The man called, breaking our mutual sharing of distress. Am I hearing that a young man would be allowed in the same room while his mother changed.”
The tailor almost sneered. “That will do nicely.” A thin whine erupted from the woman. She confessed, “I am become my son’s cunt.”
The devil had taken this woman. I shook off a sudden dread of returning home. He helped load hams and bacon into the cart. I learned from one of my few true friends, the day we missed church, several women discussed asking the sheriff to drive us off of our farm.
