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Show Flying - 208 stumble on alone in the dark. Two tents down, Wilberforce is s t i l l talking. A patien: man, Wilberforce. A believer in the power of rational discourse to tame the most savage of nen and bring hin up tc his own c i v i l i z e d standards. Wilberforce the educator. Wilberforce the optimist. John Henry walks on past his ste?.~ and confident voice, out toward the west end of the conpany street, where i t runs at right angles into Highway One. Across the highway is a narrow s t r i p of sandy ground and beyond that the Pacific Ocean. The guards on the west side of the b a t t a l i o n perineter can hear the waves breaking on Morro Beach if they stand quiet. Past the tents now, and walking slowly in the moonless dark, with only the feel of the dirt under his feet to guide him, John Henry s t r o l l s on toward the sea, breathing the salt air deep. Tired John Henry, afraid of tonorrow and the coming of the General. Afraid of the stockade. Afraid of the big M.P.'s with hoe handles and shotgun butts and nights t i c k s . Stray fron the narrow path of prison rules and they can hurt you bad. Afraid of the lnpregnable order that surrounds him. Surrounded by his fears, he forgets about the guard at the end of the road u n t i l a voice yells HALT in his ear. John Henry looks hard, trying to make out the face behind the pointed r i f l e. |