Mother knelt there as I pulled her head through, then one arm, then the other. She offered no resistance but gave no help, as I tried to restore some ...emblance of propriety to the moment. Her eyes ran with silent tears, her pupils locked on my face, her lips moving as if in a silent plea.I then carefully guided her to her feet, moving myself in parallel. I wanted to tell her it all would be okay in the morning, that I was her son and not her husband, that dad was gone - but no words would come. Above all, she's been offered money for it.So she becomes a professional hitch-hiker, figuring she'll pick up a few bucks along the way, laying some guy who pays the freight. And she figures every guy that picks her up will do the same. But I always have news for them; we go somewhere, and I promise to pay, afterwards-then give them a thumb up their holes and tell them to scram. Can they bitch? To whom? They know what they've done, know also what they've asked for doing what they've done; so. More

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