Willard Delka stood on his chair in Third Grade and slugged Mrs. Horton in the stomach. I saw it happen. Willard was a missile base kid. Brought to western South Dakota by his Pa who was employed in the construction of nuclear missile silos. Itinerant. Unattached. Blamelessly evil. Scorned.
Willard died in the back of a fruit truck on a cold South Dakota hi-way. Knife wound. Stomach. Ironic.
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