The ringing phone began to sound like a mad song before someone mercifully answered. Far down the hall, I was in my dorm room that night with a coed, trying to stay focused on her bare skin. Moments later, a rap on my door, a curious pause, and then the knotensified to a thundering, which scared the pirl so that she nearly fell off of me.
"What is it? Im busy. t you see the ie on the doorknob?"
"Henry Day?" Oher side of the door, a voice cracked and trembled. "Its your mother oelephone."
"Tell her Im out."
The voice lowered an octave. "Im really sorry, Henry, but you o take this call."
I pulled on pants and a sweater, opehe door, and brushed past the boy, who was staring at the floor. "Someoerve died."
It was my father. My mother mentiohe car, so naturally, in my shock, I assumed there had been an act. Upourning home, I learhe real story through a word here, raised eyebrows, and innuendo. He had shot himself in the head, sitting in the car at a stopligh……（内容加载失败！）
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