When I finally get home I see that Mr. Feyla's car (a dusty-metallicgreen Buick LeSabre with a white vinyl roof) is already in the driveway.Feeling li...e someone headed for the gallows, I enter the side door intothe kitchen. I wince as the screen door slaps closed (too loud!) behindme.Mr. Feyla and Morgen are both there. He's drinking a beer and readingthe paper while Morgen is studying another psych journal."Marshall," Mr. Feyla says. His voice is neutral, neither angry norcomforting. "Have a. It was a large window in the livingroom, facing across a small garden outside, and onto a cul-de-sac, probably contemplating our discussion and the direction it had taken.'Well, what exactly is it you want to see?' he enquired, trying to understand the conversation we wer having.'You're penis' I replied, simply.'I would do the same for you!' I blurted out, not really thinking that through.Again, I got a quizzical gaze, and could see him thinking things through.'We can't do it here love, people. More

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