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forever; but at last the stream dried up。 By then the pain had sunk deep into my stomach and my testicles; biting like rusty teeth。 For a long while … it might have been as long as a minute … I was physically incapable of getting up。 At last the pain began to abate; and I struggled to my feet。 I looked at my urine; already soaking into the ground; and wondered if any sane God could make a world where such a little bit of dampness could e at the cost of such horrendous pain。
I would call in sick; I thought; and go see Dr。 Sadler after all。 I didn't want the stink and the queasiness of Dr。 Sadler's sulfa tablets; but anything would be better than kneeling beside the woodpile; trying not to scream while my prick was reporting that it had apparently been doused with coal…oil and set afire。
Then; as I was swallowing aspirin in our kitchen and listening to Jan snore lightly in the other room; I remembered that today was the day William Wharton was scheduled on the block; and that Brutal wouldn't be there … the roster had him over on the other side of the prison; helping to move the rest of the library and some leftover infirmary equipment to the new building。 One thing I didn't feel right about in spite of my pain was leaving Wharton to Dean and Harry。 They were good men; but Curtis Anderson's report had suggested that William Wharton was exceptionally bad news。 This man just doesn't care; he had written; underlining for emphasis。
By then the pain had abated so
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