9 <2> THE UNTIMELY DEMISE OF RAY PLOTE Later that night after the dishes were washed and the garbage taken out, Lucy and the Beck's natural daughter retired to their shared bedroom. “Lucy, are you feeling all right?” He asked concernedly. “I opened my eyes, and she was bending over my bedside. ’ ‘Tchah!’ He glared at her. Mrs. Ten days should see you on your feet. Perhaps this was the real turning point: the hour in which the disordered mind began permanently to readjust itself. Brown gave four counts and she delivered her first a cappella violin solo. It was rude and disrespectful to raise her eyes to him, her mother had warned. It did seem germane to the matter that so many of the people “in the van” were plain people, or faded people, or tired-looking people. They blinded me.
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