The Funhouse

without faith for a few years, Ellen discovered that she now believed . She was a Catholic again, and she longed for the cleansing of confession, for the spiritual uplift of the Mass. The birth of that grotesque, malevolent child, and especially her recent struggle with it, had convinced her that there were such things as abstract evil and abstract good, forces of God and forces of Satan at work in the world.
        In the motel bed, with the covers drawn up to her chin, she prayed often that night.
        Toward dawn she finally managed to get a couple of hours of uninterrupted, dreamless sleep, and when she woke up she did not feel depressed. A shaft of golden sunlight pierced the high window and came to rest upon her, and as she luxuriated in the warmth and brightness, she began to feel that there was hope for the future. Conrad was behind her. Forever. The monstrous child was gone. Forever. The world was filled with interesting possibilities. After all the sadness and pain and fear that she had endured, she was long overdue for her share of happiness.
        Already, she had put Conrad's threat out of her mind.
        It was Tuesday, August 16, 1955.

PART ONE
        
    Amy Harper

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    1
        
        On the night of the senior prom, Jerry Galloway wanted to make love to Amy. His desire didn't surprise her. He always wanted to make love. He was always pawing at her. He couldn't get enough of her.
        But Amy was beginning to think she'd had enough of Jerry. Too much of him, in fact. She was pregnant.
        Whenever she thought about being pregnant, she got a hollow, cold sensation in her chest. Afraid of what she would have to face in the days ahead-the humiliation, her father's disappointment, her mother's fury-she shivered.
        Several times during the evening, Jerry saw her shivering, and he thought she was just bothered by a draft from the gymnasium's air conditioning. She was wearing a lacy, green, off-the shoulder gown, and he kept suggesting that she put her shawl over her shoulders.
        They danced only a few of the fast songs, but they didn't miss a single slow number. Jerry liked slow dancing. He liked to hold Amy close, pressing her tight against him, as they glided somewhat clumsily around the floor. He whispered in her ear while they danced, he told her that she looked terrific, that she was the sexiest thing he had ever seen, that all of the guys were surreptitiously staring at her cleavage, that she made him hot, real hot. He pressed so tightly against her that she could feel his erection. He wanted her to feel it because he wanted her to know that she turned him on. To Jerry's way of thinking, his erection was the greatest compliment he could pay her.
        Jerry was an ass.
        As Amy allowed him to maneuver her around the crowded room, as she permitted him to rub his body against her under the pretense of dancing, she wondered why she had let him touch her in the first place. He was such a creep, really.
        He was handsome, of course. He was one of the handsomest boys in the senior class. A lot of girls thought Amy had made a wonderful catch when she'd latched onto Jerry Galloway.
        But you don't give your body to a guy just because he's good-looking, she told herself. My God, you've got to have higher standards than that!
        Jerry was handsome, but he wasn't nearly as intelligent as he was good-looking. He wasn't witty, clever, kind, or more than minimally considerate. He thought he was cool, and he was good at playing Joe College, but there was no substance to him.
        Amy looked around at the other girls in their silks and satins and laces and chiffons, in their low-cut bodices, in their Empire-waist dresses, in their backless gowns and long skirts and pumps, in their elaborate hairdos and carefully applied makeup and borrowed jewelry. All those girls were laughing and pretending to be ultra-sophisticated, glamorous, even world-weary. Amy envied them. They were having so much fun.
        And she was pregnant.
        She was afraid she was going to cry. She bit her tongue and held back the tears.
        The prom was scheduled to last until one o'clock in the morning. Afterwards, from one-thirty until three o'clock, there was an extravagant breakfast buffet in one of the town's nicest restaurants.
        Amy had been allowed to come to the prom, but she hadn't been given permission to attend the breakfast. It