Ray

XXXVI

ONE of the great bad strokes I did was marry the prettiest girl on campus. I was so horny and everything else was pretty nothing except red bricks and Baptists, a few queers in the drama and English departments. I got thrown out of my room by a senior who thought he could box. I knew nothing about boxing. This was supposed to be my roommate. He was a blond, acned guy, and he was punching me. So I said, “Stop.”

He quit, though he was still shifting, bouncing.

“My name’s Wild Man Thomas,” he said.