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many,” and she says “I do too, but not always so carefully, for I’ve a lot to do for school to earn future college money you won’t be able to give, and let’s face it, Daddy, you sometimes say the same thing in them or fairly close or repeat yourself in different ways where it becomes too repeatinglike and sort of boring if I can say—after a while there’s not a lot to write about in prison, which I long ago figured out but I guess is what this place is supposed to be for—to make you wish you didn’t do what you did to get yourself in here and to make you also want to jump back into the non-crimelike world once you get out where you can have something new to do and talk about and for gosh sake never to go back in again because of all the sameness and bad food and sleeping and no privacy and your horrible toilets and all the TVs on around you and dumb conversations and no summer vacations as you’ve joked a hundred times and that music the other prisoners play that you hate and I’m sure no women and even some fear of the other men,” and he says “True, although it could be I haven’t told you everything, though none of what I didn’t say would make me want to stay, but I also call you whenever I can and am able to afford it and you can call me at the prescribed hours when you like too but unfortunately not collect, they don’t have that advantage here either, or even from your mom’s phone, why not?—I handed all we had and owned over to her without a gripe when we split up, not that there was much, I admit, or that I regret a single nickel of it, though a little house with a big mortgage is still something if a few years’ interest on it have been paid off and the market hasn’t dropped, so maybe the least she could do for both of us—and then if it makes you feel better it should make her too, right?—is let you call me from her phone now and then, or just tell her to tally all the calls you make to me and their cost—why didn’t I think of this a thousand years ago?—and when I get out and really working, or even with the little dough I make a day here, I’ll pay her back with regular bank interest whatever that now is, but anyway, none of those I realize are the same as my being there for you on the outside when you need me and it never can be turned around to be made good, but what else did you want to tell me?—you said there was something,” and she says “You’re not going to like this,” and he says “Just say, nothing about yourself can make me angry,” and she says “Sad, though, that’s what I’m afraid,” and he says “If you’re sick, but I mean on your last leg or just very bad, then that of course,” and she says “Soon as I graduate in June I’m going to Seattle or some West Coast place where young people go, to look for work and room with girls I’ll get from the ads and hopefully get residency status there so I can go to college cheap, so to be honest I’ll be coming here even less than I have and today can easily be the last time for a while, I’m sorry, Daddy,” and he says “Well, that wasn’t too bad, I’m already recovering because I know it’s what you want and should be good for you if it’s safe, and also, since I’m out of here in less than two years, it won’t be too long a stretch between seeing you if you don’t come again but tell me where you are. Now as for what you both said not to do with those guys who killed Julie, long as we’re talking straight, going after them so one-mindedly and blindly you can say, I shouldn’t have if only because it broke up what could have been considered a fairly good marriage till then, though just losing Julie could have done that, everything because of it thrown out of whack, but it also separated me from you and then permanently