My head was whirling. My body was on fire. I only touched him once in the car, by accident on the elbow, but I got such a zap off him, I decided just to get home and try to think. I suppose another woman would have freaked out about the sex demon thing. The magically glowing dicks the size of horse dongs. That reeking lair. Actually it was the lair that comforted me. My eight brothers had declared our decrepit, empty dairy barn off-limits, years before I was born. By age seven, I was judged old enough to fetch and carry for them. I was permitted to enter the barn as long as I swore, cross my heart and hope to die, stick a dirty needle in my eye, never, ever to tell what I saw there. Beer, porn, piles of semi-legal firecrackers, an old motorcycle they never did get running, pizza boxes piled to the rafters, dirty sweat socks and shirts, stained mattresses, used condoms, electronic toys. And my brothers lolling all over the place, swaggering, fighting, loafing, playing hard.
