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She continued to struggle with him.The rest of the group got up and crowded closer to get a good look at Inga's exposed charms. The two men who had begun to molest her stood up and pulled her to her feet. In seconds her clothes were gone and large, rough hands were all over her.She struggled and cried out for someone to help her. I knew that I had no chance but I couldn't just sit there. I jumped to my feet with the intention of doing a little damage before they could stop me. I never got a chance. I hadn't even noticed the two giants behind me. They grabbed me and twisted my arms behind my back and forced me back down into my seat. They held me down and someone came up with some rope and tied me to my chair.The rest of them had been ignoring me. They continued to grope and fondle Inga and comment crudely on her body and its new decorations.I looked around and saw that everyone was gone now. It was just me and Inga and the outlaw bikers. There wasn't going to be anyone to put a stop. The intervening Sunday, she had dinner with the Watkins family. The next Saturday, she went to bed early. She could feel she was coming down with a cold. She barely woke to the alarm that morning. She had kicked the blankets off during the night. Despite the inadequate furnace in the parsonage, she felt like she was burning up. Getting out of bed was a tremendous effort, and she realized that she was seriously sick. There was no way she could lead a service that morning. She managed to call the District Superintendent but got his answering machine. She called Joe Englehard, chair of the pastor-parish committee, to tell him that she couldn’t make it. “You know, David Blake?” she croaked. “Professor Blake? He’s an ordained minister. See if he can lead the service.” Then she crawled back to bed. By then, she was shivering, and the blankets didn’t seem to help.Blake called Wednesday. “This is David. I hope you are feeling better.”“Better. Not good.”“I’ve been going through the Old.
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