—Jonathan Wild: August 31st, 1724. Three short days. When the word “FREAK” appeared scratched in the persimmon colored paint on her locker, she knew that in some fragile young woman’s mind a war had escalated from imaginary to physical. The Disguise. (What was the name he had given her that day?) He was walking beside the chair upon which appeared to be a bundle of colours. She smiled at the sight of him, and thereat his radiation increased. I am going up to dine with my sister. In the midst of them there was a cart with a man in it—and that man was Jack—my son Jack—they were going to hang him. They would be partners only in loneliness.
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