The sound brought it all back. Seeing her gaze off, knowing the symptoms of withdrawal Hillary said brightly, "Enid, let's go to see the parade," collecting her hat showing she wouldn't take no for an answer. Enid acquiesced though she didn't want to. Going out was difficult after what had happened. She shuddered recalling the man's hands clawing at her pantyhose, his alcoholic breath almost asphyxiating her, his vulgarity and commonness oppressing her. She had been completely exonerated by the police even though the man had bled a lot. She heard again his cry of pain, terror, surprise, an animal in a trap as he realized the tables had been turned against him. She thanked her grandmother for her fashion sense. Granny would have been amused that her old-fashioned yet stylish black velvet hat with the shady brim had been used to submit a man to the law. As he clawed at her, her hand reached up to her head and she drew out the amber-headed long hat pin that attached the hat to her luxuriant hair. Without thinking she grabbed hold of the pin and stabbed the man in the groin. He screamed and fell away shouting at her but she was merciless and kicked him as hard as she could in the testicles. The press labelled her a heroine. He was imprisoned for many years as he was an escapee. Boadicea strikes with amber hat pin, screamed a tabloid. Don't mess with Enid said another. All this was in her mind as they watched the largely amateur parade, patriotic for July 4 up in the small Maine town where she had gone to recuperate with Hillary. It was the fresh faced high school band marching along that brought it vividly back to her. They were playing a Souza march and that tune was coming from a window in the street that day when he grabbed her and thrust her into the deserted alley. What would Souza say to that she wondered?
She would write a story about it. Smiling, for the first time for weeks she said to Hilary."You know, I feel better. I shan't use a pin again but I shall wield a pen. She had made a step forward.
