At last, she reached the end room. The double door stood open and she could see the white tiled walls inside. The whistling was coming from here, but ...he couldn't see the whistler at first. Then he emerged from behind a screen and stopped in a shocked stance, looking at her. My God! Thought Alanna, it's the original slack jaw from the Deep South. The gangling youth bore a remarkable resemblance to the hillbilly. Her thought became even more positive when he answered her first question with a. It might take some fancy talking, but I'd make sure she still had a job to go to. I dialled Byron's private number, the one that doesn't go through the switchboard. He answered on the third ring."What?" he almost screamed into the receiver."Good to hear your voice too, ya old fucker. I got a present for ya if you're nice to me" I wailed back at him. Byron actually was a helluva nice guy, but he kept putting on this act of being a miserable son-of-a-bitch. You really had to know the guy to be. More

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