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funeral had been scheduled for April 4. I had put Dorcas in one hell of a spot and made a star ass out of myself.
    Dorcas had given me a solid glare of angry disgust. I looked in the dresser mirror at my bruised, puffy face. I looked like I had been drunk for a month.
    I stood on a chair and turned my back to the mirror. I looked over my shoulder and pulled myself apart. I got nauseated at the sight of my body pocked with ugly bite and pinch wounds.
    I knew I needed medical attention for sure. I heard the faint whoosh of the garage door opening to the electronic beam inside the hearse.
    I went across the hall to the bathroom and stood there behind the locked door, ashamed to face Dorcas. I heard her come down the hall and go into her bedroom next to mine.
    I sat on the toilet. It felt like I was passing my entrails. I almost cried out with the pain. I rose and saw that my stool was bloody. I drew a tub of water and took a bath. I eased the door open and went to my bedroom. I put on pajamas and sat at the window looking out on State Street.
    Finally Dorcas came to the doorway and said, “Welcome home, playboy. That call I got from you last night saying you were on the way home must have come from New York. Or maybe you decided not to tear yourself away from Miss whoever she is. What does she look like, Otis? Does she have a lovely slender figure? Go on tell me about her. I won’t be hurt. It will be wonderful to know where we stand.”
    I turned and faced her. “Hon, I’m sorry I broke my word and you had to drive the hearse. For the last time, I’m saying there is no other woman in my life. I got into trouble, real trouble that had nothing to do with a woman. It’s the truth, Dorcas. It won’t happen again. But I won’t tell you what happened. So stop quizzing me.”
    She came and sat on the bed and said softly, “Otis, please don’t lie to me. I checked all the jails and hospitals. Where have you been? I want to know what happened. I love you, but you have to clear up things for me. Whatever it is, I’ll understand.”
    I felt suffocated like under Mama’s pressure. My palms were gluey.
    I said sharply, “Goddamnit, Dorcas, I told you I’m not telling you what happened. It’s too personal, and no woman except Mamacould understand it. You’d despise me. Now leave me alone. I want to think.”
    I got up and went to the dresser. I stood there brushing my hair and watching her in the mirror. She sat there nervously raking her fingers through her long black hair and staring at the floor.
    She stood up and came to stand behind me. The big eyes in the furious black face were angry and accusing. I turned and tried to embrace her.
    She backed up and spat out, “Don’t touch me, liar. You’ve been cheating on me with one of these Westside chippies. Daddy always told me fellows with your background were dangerous risks. Now you’ve betrayed me, lied to me. Please don’t be a tramp.”
    She’d smashed the control on my rage machine with the crack about her father. I opened my mouth to shout at her. A pain grenade detonated in my rectum and reared me back on my heels.
    I hung there like a corpse from an invisible hangman’s noose with my tongue lolling out. I crumbled backward on the foot of the bed like a sweaty rag doll.
    Dorcas brought a cold towel to my brow and crooned “You see, Otis, it’s ridiculous to carouse with that chippie all night and get hung over like this. What does she look like?”
    I lay there looking up at her agonized face.
    I cut her off quietly. “Dorcas, I can’t stand pressure, so I’m going to tell you what happened, and then I’m going to get out of your sight and give you a chance to get yourself a real man. I haven’t been out with a woman. I’ve been . . .”
    She sobbed and threw herself across me and pressed her lips against mine.
    She pleaded,