The real fun was about to begin."I must admit," she mused, "that it isn't really all that quiet. But it will stay inside this office. I presume that's what you meant." Yes ma'am, it-"And he stopped short as he saw what she was pulling out of the drawer: a long, well-polished oak paddle. It was eighteen inches long not counting the leather-wrapped handle, five inches wide and a half-inch thick. Small holes were drilled through the wood all down its length.It was her favorite tool; easy and comfortable to wield, long enough for serious momentum, light and narrow enough for good quick swats. The holes made it even faster, and gave it a wicked little swish as it cut the air on its way to its victim. She'd once made an all-state quarterback cry with this paddle.That had been fun, a romp for her darkest aspects, but she could already see that this time would be different. John's breathing had changed, grown heavy, and his wide eyes were locked on the paddle in her hand. She knew. My former lunch buddy taught me all about it. She even left her astrology library with me when she moved out. But she's the only one who ever showed any interest. Most people just get bored when I mention it."But the subject stirred my interest. I asked her about astrology and what it entailed, but Ronnie didn't want to get into a lot of detail over lunch.I asked, "Martha doesn't talk about this with you?"Ronnie said, "Oh, she just laughs. But Martha, you know, believes she's reincarnated. She ever mention that?"I remembered a time when Martha and I were in the Memphis State library and Martha had shown me the photograph of the mother and child in the National Geographic. I said, "Yeah, she did. A long time ago."Ronnie nodded, chewing another mouthful. She said, "She has this sacrificial parent thing." Suddenly her eyes popped open and she said "Mm!' and swallowed and wiped her lips. She said excitedly, "Hey, I could do your horoscope, and you and Martha together, and you and me.
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