“It’s okay. Looks like a dress for a lawn party or going to church.” He took a sip of his orange juice. “That’s the right answer! It...��s for the party!” She turned and walked away from the kitchen. Mark could hear her running up the stairs to her bedroom. His 17-year old sister was going on vacation with her friends next weekend. Apparently, she went shopping for new clothes. He grabbed his glass of orange juice and walked toward the stairs to his bedroom. It was good to be home. "How 'bout if you call me Rick 'til I have to leave?" Rick," she repeated, as if the name were an unfamiliar one. Maybe there had been some Hitler equivalent after my time whose first name was Rick. Just like there weren't a lot of kids named Adolph after World War II."So. It's a little hard to believe that your father didn't know about my legs. I mean, he said he was making holotapes, whatever the hell they are, through my mind. He was the one who put the training there in the first place.. More

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