forever； but at last the stream dried up。 By then the pain had sunk deep into my stomach and my testicles； biting like rusty teeth。 For a long while … it might have been as long as a minute … I was physically incapable of getting up。 At last the pain began to abate； and I struggled to my feet。 I looked at my urine； already soaking into the ground； and wondered if any sane God could make a world where such a little bit of dampness could e at the cost of such horrendous pain。
I would call in sick； I thought； and go see Dr。 Sadler after all。 I didn't want the stink and the queasiness of Dr。 Sadler's sulfa tablets； but anything would be better than kneeling beside the woodpile； trying not to scream while my prick was reporting that it had apparently been doused with coal…oil and set afire。
Then； as I was swallowing aspirin in our kitchen and listening to Jan snore lightly in the other room； I remembered that today was the day William Wharton was scheduled on the block； and that Brutal wouldn't be there … the roster had him over on the other side of the prison； helping to move the rest of the library and some leftover infirmary equipment to the new building。 One thing I didn't feel right about in spite of my pain was leaving Wharton to Dean and Harry。 They were good men； but Curtis Anderson's report had suggested that William Wharton was exceptionally bad news。 This man just doesn't care； he had written； underlining for emphasis。
By then the pain had abated so