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Show Acting Alone Page 326 in this country during the flagpole-sitting craze of the fifties. Would you care to speculate on the psycho-sexual motives a man could possibly have for pulling crazy shit like that? For the tape recorder? To drown out Bopp?" "No. It's holy stuff. Why don't you ask me instead about our first Provincial, and how she truly did have miraculous powers, to be able to go among doctors and introduce herself by name in her German accent and not be laughed out of their offices?" Even in her strident tone Simone tried but failed not to make a joke. "I've heard of her," said Sam. "Mother Superior Pudentiana. I call her Super Mom. But, back to Simon, or Simian, or whatever -" She got brusque with him. "Why're you recording this, anyway? Why are you even here? You're no nun. Who are you?" "Sorry I mentioned it. Gol." Sam sat up straight and faced forward, his feelings hurt. He settled in for a long, deadly, feed-the-world-on-liberal- sentiment sermon from the chaplain. Hands now stilled, Sam's tongue started to fidget. It ruminated on the blood that was oozing down between his gums from the compound fracture in his upper mandible. A black rubbery blood-capsule was forming around the least mobile of his snapped upper incisors. It was surprising what such a soft stone as alabaster could do, flung with the proper amount of conviction by someone like that - well, previously in his life Sam would've styled Zeitl Abraham that roaring, Christkilling cunt, or some such phrase. But Sam was living under the balmy influence of Shanny's big sister What'sername now. The tall, dark-eyed nun had, |