Bob had me by two inches where it counted, and appeared thicker to boot (we're both cut and shaved).We set up a meeting at a pub in the evening a week...before our planned "getaway." We arrived at the bar and immediately hit it off—I could tell that this was the one and that it was going to work. My wife flirted with Bob aggressively right from the start; someone at another table might not know who she was actually with, observing her behavior. At one point, my wife leaned over the table and. "My mouth went suddenly dry, icy fingers inched up my spine."Why...why did you call me, John," I whispered."Because that is who you are," said the thing.Suddenly, I couldn't breath. It was as if the room had contracted,forcing out all the air. My knees began to buckle, I thought I mightcollapse. There was only one person who still called me John."Uncle Walter?" I ventured in a low voice. My hands felt sweaty. I wipedthem on my jeans."Swanson did this," said the thing."Why?" I asked."He's trying. More

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