But then his pulse raced as she did the ‘down boy’ sign just as she reached the counter. Dick ate slowly and watched her. She’d sometimes glance...at him as she served but would look away without recognition. At least when she walked back to the counter she never gave anyone else that behind-the-back signal. Dick paid and left, feeling quite sure he’d made a friend. It would upset his mom knowing she was ‘only a waitress’. Dick had nothing against waitresses. He’d judge them as people, not by. He knew that his senses had improved drastically. He could faintly here his mother humming while she sewed in her bedroom, and he could read the tiny address on a piece of mail from across the room. He could smell his sister's hairspray hanging in the air. Why she was putting on hairspray on a Sunday evening was beyond him.He had grown taller and put on some muscle. He wondered if he was stronger. He went to the garage where his weight set was. His max bench press had been two hundred pounds.. More

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