In hindsight, every genetic marker pointed at the baby being him. His genes and the child's were so close, the two were indistinguishable.

Reverend Curtis Dean Fields (Minister, Middleton Christian Fellowship): My clearest recollection is, during our requisite premarital counseling, the couple waived any discussion of intimacy. It was my assumption that their squeamishness arose from Irene being so far along. A lecture on contraception would have been locking the barn door long after that particular horse had run off.

Whether or not it was due to the pregnancy, I have never seen a couple less physically infatuated with each other. So you know how standoffish they seemed, at their wedding, when I told Chester he could kiss his bride, he kissed Irene on the cheek.

Dr. David Schmidt: Our gravest reservation had been regarding the possibility that Chester Casey had raped thirteen-year-old Irene Shelby, and circumstances were forcing her to marry her assailant. Small towns have a tragic way of trapping young people and making them answer for small mistakes with the rest of their lives.

Ruby Elliot: All the Shelby kin, leastwise the womenfolk, they were born under a dark star. Irene's own great-great-grandmother had been attacked by a man. Her Great-grandma Bel Shelby, when she was thirteen or fourteen years old and walking home after school, a stranger assaulted her. A transient. No sheriff ever caught the man, but Bel Shelby had a baby as the result, and that illegitimate baby was Irene's Grandmother Hattie.

It's as if bad luck stalks after the women in Irene's family.

Basin Carlyle (Childhood Neighbor): Don't make me laugh. Don't call what's really loose morals any "attack." Women in the Shelby family have always run around. No curse settled on the Shelby women, except maybe the curse of promiscuity.

Ruby Elliot: But soon as Hattie Shelby turned thirteen, it did happen, again. Another stranger and another baby. This baby was Irene's own mama, Esther.

Edna Perry (Childhood Neighbor): Their farm, Middleton folks call it the "Shelby Place" even after Chet Casey took over. For all those years it was Bel raising Hattie raising Esther. Local history is, the exact day little Esther turned thirteen, she got pregnant with Irene.

Ruby Elliot: A family history like that, and you can't blame Glenda Hendersen and me for fearing the worst once Irene got to ninth grade. We walked everywhere with her, not once letting our best friend out of eyesight. When we weren't watching Irene, her ma and grandma was. You could argue they drove Irene a little crazy, mother-henning that way. Could be that amount of safeguarding is what drove Irene to sneak out. Just to be by herself and walk along the river, through the trees along the river, alone.

Sheriff Bacon Carlyle (Childhood Enemy): The wild-dog packs running around in those woods, it's nothing but self-destructive, walking in those woods by yourself. For a young girl like Irene was, we're talking about just plain insane suicide behavior.

Ruby Elliot: Except maybe Irene didn't want to spend her life hiding behind locked doors and best friends and her mama's skirt.

Basin Carlyle: Irene Shelby took to sneaking off. Then she got herself knocked up. Then she gone and married Chester. No mystery. It's crazy talk to say a rapist has run down four generations of the same family. Don't make me laugh.

Reverend Curtis Dean Fields: Still, for the life of me, I never did see any child grow up to look so much like his father. Why, anybody meeting Buster and Chester Casey would swear those two were twin brothers.

That is—if they weren't born a generation apart.

Glenda Hendersen: Granted, Chet was some years older than Irene. You could blame that for why the two of them never acted close, not in front of folks. Never so much as held hands. But they seemed to genuine care for each other, right up until Chet climbed into that airplane and never looked back.

Irene Casey (Rant's Mother): You're asking, was I raped? Was I attacked by a stranger who might've been my father, and my grandfather, and great-grandfather? Why bring up such awfulness?

I don't know. I forget. I can't remember.

33–Werewolves IV

Shot Dunyun (Party Crasher): Talk about bullshit. Looking back on this. It's beyond bullshit, but sometimes I don't think when I brush my teeth, and I'd spit the toothpaste into the toilet instead of the sink. Force of habit. I never think how spit is really saliva, and I never consider how my dog used to drink out of the toilet.

Jayne Merris (Musician): You remember what people were like. One rumor said Nighttimers picked up apples for sale in grocery stores, licked the apples, and put them back, hoping to infect Daytimers. Other rumors said Nighttimers would spit from high-rise windows during the day.

Neddy Nelson (Party Crasher): The Berlin Wall…the Great Wall of China…that zone dividing Israel from the Palestinians…North from South Korea—isn't that what the eight o'clock curfew became?

Galton Nye (City Councilman): The main problem I have with Nighttimers is they get on their high horse and call me a bigot. Nobody can call me prejudiced. For their information, my own daughter is a so-called Nighttimer, my own little girl. Since almost three years ago.

Neddy Nelson: How soon was it before Daytimers assumed every Nighttimer carried rabies? In food service? In health care? What about child care? Can you name one Daytimer who still hired nighttime labor?

Shot Dunyun: My dog I had was a three-year-old pug named Sandy. She used to chase a tennis ball until she'd be so tired I'd have to carry her home from the park. She'd sleep the whole trip back.

I knew I couldn't boost peaks, and I knew what that meant, but talk about being stupid.

Jayne Merris: You remember? You heard rumors about people not knowing they were infected, kissing their husbands and wives, parents kissing their kids good night and giving them rabies. Churches that shared a common wineglass during Communion, that was another story that made the rounds. How all Catholics or Baptists had rabies.

Shot Dunyun: My pug, Sandy, every day she'd sleep on my bed, her little head on the pillow next to my pillow. Like a little bulldozer, she'd plow her way under the covers, turn around by my feet, then push her way out until just her head was showing. Talk about personality. Sandy even snored like a little person. She knew «fetch» and "roll over" and "wait."

Galton Nye: Despite how much her mother and I tried to warn her, she rejected us. We tried to teach our little girl right from wrong. We begged her not to throw her life away on some silly teenager act of rebellion. We made it abundantly clear that day versus night was entirely a conscious lifestyle choice, but she wouldn't hear a word of it.