To Probe A Beating Heart by John B Wren Page B

and won’t do anything for me.”
                  “Oh, okay, then we can do this a different way. Just let me do the
    talking, okay?”
                  “Yeah, okay.”
                  The two boys went back to the main desk and Frank spoke to the librarian. “Excuse me miss,” he said in a much more refined voice, “My cousin would like to apply for a library card. His mom is down in the car with a sprained ankle so I brought him up here. What do we need to do?”
                  The librarian helped them fill out the application and said they should have mom drop it off after she signs it. Frank said, “ she’s down in the car, I can run it down to her and come right back with it signed?”
                  “Well, yes why not, sure, yes.” The librarian was pleased to see two young boys so interested in the library.
                  Frank told Averell to stay put, he’d be right back. He borrowed a pen from the librarian and ran down the stairs and out to the parking lot. He walked to an area that was not in view of the security camera or a window and pulled the pen from his pocket. He leaned up against the wall and scribbled ‘Ellie Danker’ on the form. He had done this a number of times before, forging his own mother’s signature. He went back up to the desk area and said, “She signed it, here.”
                  The librarian gave Averell a paper card and told him to look for the permanent card in the mail in about a week or two. The boys walked out of the library with two books that Averell borrowed. Frank had explained how it worked and Averell seemed to grasp it all. Frank was a nice guy and Averell decided to trust him with a question.
                  “Frank, can I ask you something and you won’t think I’m crazy?” as he asked the question he knew that it already sounded a little crazy.
                  “Sure,” said Frank, “Hey, I hang out with the three of the dumbest
    meatballs this side of the big city, believe me, I hear crazy.”
                  Averell relaxed a bit and said, “Have you ever heard voices when
    nobody is there?”
                  “Me? No, no never, well almost never. Look, you ask me a tough
    question because if some people heard you or me sayin’ that we hear
    voices, they may call the guys in white suits. Put us in a rubber room, you know what I mean?”
                  “Yeah, sorta—.”
                  “Averell, you’re a nice kid, sometimes your head is tryin’ to tell you
    somethin’ from deep down inside, and it comes out like you’re hearin’
    stuff. But it is just you kinda’ talkin’ to yourself. That’s not a bad thing,
    just don’t get in to no arguments, and don’t tell nobody that it’s happenin’, okay?”
                  “Yeah, okay.” and Averell felt a little better about Stelian.
                  “So, you hearin’ stuff all the time?” asked Frank.
                  “No, usually when I’m alone and trying to think.”
                  “Okay, remember don’t say nothin’ to the guys about this, they don’t understand,” said Frank.
                  When he got home Ellie was sitting in the living room reading the
    newspaper. She saw him with books and asked where they came from.
                  “I borrowed them,” he replied, and went up to his room.
                  Over the next two weeks Averell read through the books and made a number of trips to the woods, catching squirrels and rabbits and toying with them, torturing them with his probes, pushing the probes into and through their writhing bodies, watching their eyes as he played. He compared the pictures in the books to what he saw when he dissected the little animals. they did not always match to his liking and realizing