"And what do you feel now?"

"Some warmth."

"And what do you feel now?"

"Slightly nauseous."

"And what do you feel now?" John reached for the paper bag that was sitting in the waste basket behind him.

"Nauseous." Susie sat upright with a wild expression on her face and began to vomit into the paper bag. Again and again, she vomited, holding the bag over her nose and mouth.

"Ohhh!" she screamed, "My whole stomach is coming out. It's my stomach." She gasped, and vomited once more.

When the vomiting had passed, she lay down on her back, still in the center of the circle. Her eyes were shut.

"What do you want?" John was always there, always in control. The boy looked at him in awe, and at Susie with apprehension.

"O my God," she screamed, "O my God. Papa. Papa." And she spread her legs very wide, to let the man in. "Papa. O my God," she screamed again Her body began to writhe, then fell into a slow steady rhythm.

Then: "Oh, Jesus. Jimmy, Jimmy, Tell me when to push. I can feel the baby. It's on its way, Jimmy. It's coming out. Oh Jesus, tell me when to push." She spread her legs as wide as she could, holding her feet with her hands. "The baby's coming!" Her whole body tightened in a spasm, and then relaxed.

For a moment there was silence. "Look at him, Jimmy. Look at our baby." There was happiness in her voice. "Look how small he is--but he doesn't have any balls. Jimmy! Where are his balls?"

"They'll come down." John was always there. He was her anchor.

"And they did, too." Susie said, with a little pride. "Look at him, look at those balls of his, look at that cock. I'd like that cock inside of me."

So that was it, the boy thought to himself, the whole cycle. She had slept with her father, given birth to a son, and now she was sleeping with the child. The boy did not know what to make of it, and for the first time, he felt up tight himself. What were these incredibly powerful forces that were being released right before his eyes? Here was a woman lying before him vomiting, then experiencing orgasm, childbirth, orgasm. He could not cope with it. He didn't know what to think, what to do. And he was up tight, not out of any fear or pity for this ugly woman before him. He could not have cared less about her. She might as well have slept with her great great grandfather and given birth to her great great grandson for all the boy cared. But he was suddenly and deeply worried about himself. Did these same emotions exist within himself? What would happen when his turn came to act? What was he sitting on? What did he have to get behind? What would these strange, remote, anonymous people see if he opened up his soul to them?