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Margaret by Melva Sue Priddy-Howard Sharon gestured toward me as she approached . Another woman followed, also carrying a plate, her square face full of motion as she tried to talk. I moved down a bit. Sharon sat next to me and introducedMargaret ,whostoppedtalkinglong enough to smile broadly. Sharon murmured , "What a coincidence running into you," as Margaret resumed their conversation . "Can you believe it! The jerk didn't even show up! Didn't even show up. And I had an anatomy test today." She shook her head and took a bite of hot dog all at the same time. "He knows it, I swear to God he knows it. The SOB's trying to make me flunk out, I'll bet anything." Catsup ran down her blouse. "Now just look at this!" Margaret began wiping the catsup off, and, remembering I was there, explained why she was wearing a suit. "We had a court date this morning but he didn't show. I'm not taking any more of this. You know what he's done? ' looking at me, "I'll tell you what he's done—he's fot himself a twenty-year-old girlfriend, wenty years old! ' Two girls nearby stopped gossiping. "I gave that man the best years ofmy life and look what it's got me. Look at these bags," she motioned toward the dark circles under her eyes, "and this flab. I'm forty-two years old. 22 I'mgonnagetmyselfaboyfriend—Iwill." She laughed. Sharon nodded, chewing the lastbite of herhotdog, "Sure you can. ' The two girls had given up pretending not to listen. Margaret turned back to me again. "He wentthrough alloursavings. Icamehome one day and he had backed, a truck into the barn. He aimed to steal my horses! Right out of the barn! I was mad—I yelled and screamed at that bastard—excuse my language," she acknowledged the presence ofthe youngerwomen and seemed to forget them in the same breath, "—you know my language is just the pits anymore , I mean I can't find enough four letter words to use lately. I'll have to learn some new ones, you know what I mean? I didn't know that just calling him a 'bastard' couldsaysomuch."Shewashalf giggling, half smiling, turning her head back and forth as if attempting to cross a busy intersection. "Am I making any sense?" Sharon excused herself to get another hot dog. I thought I heard her laugh under her breath, "The two of you." "Yeah, you're making perfectly good sense." "lam? I wish I felt like it." The lines around her mouth went lax. "I feel like such a fool. A fool." She would have spelt it in big black letters; that's the way she pronounced it. Her eyes stopped smiling. "You wouldn't believe the things he's done to me lately." I knew she had a list. "He can't even decide what he wants now—the twenty year old or me—but eitherwayhethinks heowns thehouse and the farm. Well, he's finding outhe doesn't own me anymore. I can't believe I've lived with that man this long. God, he's neurotic I swear." "Has he threatened sucide yet?" I asked. Margaret looked at me. "How did you guess? How could you know?" "Luckyguess."Sharon returnedasifshe hadn't left. "How didyoutake it?"Iwantedtoknow. "I laughed at the SOB. I told him he didn'thave the guts!" She laughed all over again. Then, quietly, her eyes lookedpast me, beyond the two girls, looked at something way off, somewhere else. "What I really don't understand is . . ." Margaret pursed her lips, then her whole face, 'what made him think he had the right to treat me like he did all these years?" I heardmyselfasking, "Did you evertell him he didn't?" Margaret looked right into my eyes. She didn't seem to hearme. "Whatdidyou say?" 'Didyouevertellhimhedidn'thavethe right? Has anyone ever told him he didn't have the right?" "Did I . . . " she began, then paused and looked at Sharon. "Does she . . . how could she . . ." Sharon slowly nodded her head up and down, smiling. Grasping her meaning, Margaret asked, "Do you...

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