There wasn’t a boy there with whom Emily wouldn’t have enjoyed one of her east-coast dates. Then, suddenly, the room was pitching black. At first,...Emily thought the power must have gone out. Then she felt a pair of masculine hands on her body and a mouth covered hers. She eagerly played a fervid game of tongue hockey with a piece of Wrigley’s Juicy Fruit serving as the puck. Emily had just scored a goal between the boy’s second and third molars when the lights came back on. With a score of one. Once the pathos of paranoia took hold, it most often outpaced the other compulsions, causing him to break into uncontrollable sweats, speak so fast you might mistake it for incoherent babbling and shake all over, as if caught outside in frigid temperatures. More than one concerned citizen called 911 thinking the young, black man was having a heart attack.Hospitals were high on Carl’s list of unsafe places. He hated hospitals. They were in charge in hospitals. One lost control of themselves in. More

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