Page 11 - Contrast1958Winterv2n1

yond. A circle of red Hght-two circles of white light from the slde-
the intersection.

The din had been unbearable-screams like screams of wild
animals tearing out of cages, broke loose. His car had been hit from
the side by the oncoming car at the crossroads. It turned over and
over.

What happened after that he did not know. For a month and a
half after this, he had stared at the ceiling with glassy, unknowing
eyes. During the latter weeks of this period, he had begun to turn
his head to perceive persons as they entered the room. But there had
been no sign of recognition. The only words uttered were ugly, pro-
fane ones.

A week later, the first seizure had come. He had sprung up in
bed wildly. His eyes were blazing like a madman's. Clenched fists
pounded on the bed rails, pulling, reaching, trying desperately to
free themselves from the white ropes that bound him to the bed. His
good-looking dark features were distorted with the violence that
emanated from his eyes, with the streams of words coming from his
mouth that was twisted in pain.

There had been frequent reoccurrences. It was as if he had been
trying to free himself from some awful sin-some guilt that was writh-
ing inside.

In another month he had begun to ramble in faltering words
about his "Chevy." Then one night in the silence were heard bitter
sobbings. His lips, parched from fever, formed the three syllables,
Bar-bar-a. And the raspy whisper of the word had caused him to jump
up, calling for her.

"Barbara, come here. It's all right. We won't be hurt. Don't cry,
Barbara. I hate to see you cry."

But Barbara had never come to him. She had been killed in-
stantly.

So many times he had wondered how she had looked in the white
dress, with her flowing blond hair spread over the pillow, her eyes
closed; and her body motionless-young, innocent, dead.

The sound of a horn interrupted his thoughts and brought him
back to the present.

"No, my sin is too great," he thought. "I can never forgive my-
self, and I can never be forgiven. No God could be that merciful."

Feeling the pressure in his ears, he realized that they were off
the level turnpike. The motor hesitated, lurched-and louder, louder
it roared, as the automobile ascended the winding mountain.

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