he stretched himself back against the seat. He noticed, thank God, that he was in the Exact Change Lane. No toll taker. And then he was powerless, his hands gripping the steering wheel like twin vises. There was a rapping on the window beside his head but he ignored it – it was the Den Mother from the rammed Chevrolet and she was asking whether he saw what happened and then she turned away quickly, in horror at the sight of Marvin Goodman in his finest moment.
Then they were abreast of the toll basket and the car behind him was honking furiously. Marvin pressed the button that rolled down the window. "Oh, Gillian-Gillian-Gill…." Marvin found the quarter and tossed it to the basket. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh…." The quarter rimmed the basket, bounced on the asphalt, wheeled on edge in a wide semicircle and finally came to rest under the left front tire of the stationary Cadillac.
The toll booth attendant saw the vast tie-up and signaled the patrolman, who gunned his motorcycle over to the parked Cadillac. He noted that the door on the passenger's side was open. He noted that the sole occupant of the car seemed in a daze, a small grin pasted on his face in a lopsided fashion. "Hey Mac…," he began and "Sweet Jesus," he wound it up.
The man in the driver's seat was alight with transcendental joy. The aura of Gillian still filled the car. For the moment, at least, Marvin Goodman was a winner.
EXCERPT FROM "THE BILLY & GILLY SHOW," JANUARY 3RD
Billy: Well, Gilly, there are a lot of pros and cons involved. Abortion is a touchy subject.
Gilly: Obviously. I realize there is a definite question of morality involved. But there are also human considerations.
Billy: No matter what the circumstances, Gilly, you are taking a life when you perform an abortion.
Gilly: I know, Billy, but suppose the pregnancy endangers the mother's life. Or suppose the mother is a teenage rape victim. Look, those are only two examples. There are lots of others.
Billy: It's not an easy thing to decide.
Gilly: I mean, I can feel for these poor women you read about who have to go to some sleazy practitioner – someone who's doing that sort of thing on the side, and has all these dirty instruments and everything.
Billy: I don't think there's much question that the law needs to be liberalized. The problem is how. And how much?
Gilly: You have a real talent for summing up, Billy. Billy: Thank you, dear. I think one of your most sterling qualities is your ability to make a man feel important.
Gilly: Oh, but you are. I think all you men are just terribly important.
Billy: We're all grateful.
Gilly: Actually, Billy, a panel discussion on abortion would make a very interesting show.
Billy: I think that's a first-rate idea, hon. We could have someone from the church and, perhaps, a representative from the medical society.
Gilly: There's only one problem. Billy: What's that?
Gilly: I'm afraid we might have a little trouble finding an abortionist.
ALAN HETTERTON
Alan Hetterton is a beautiful name – the words were a small song in Gillian's mind as she stepped from the shower. Oh yes, a beautiful name is Alan Hetterton – she sang the song as she toweled herself dry in the bedroom, sang the song as she stood at the bedroom window, the towel over her shoulders, and stared out at a faraway jet wheeling in the night sky toward La Guardia. Alan Hetterton, in point of fact, was the name mentioned by Maxine of Maxine's Beauty Parlor during a casual conversation on the subject of abortionists she had known. Dr. Alan Hetterton is a beautiful name – tra-la! – and the bedroom phone rang twice before Gillian responded.
"Hello," she said.
"You got a pair of big ones," the voice said. "Who is this?" she asked.
"I said you got a pair of big ones." Whoever he was, he was making no effort to disguise his voice. "Big round ones and never mind who this is."
The first time he had called, Gillian calmly placed the receiver in the cradle, waited a second, then called the police. The police had informed her there was nothing to be done, but should the calls continue she might want to use the new automatic tracking device. It had all seemed so much trouble.
"Are you coming to the point?" she asked.
"I come to a point," he said. "Don't worry about that. I come to a point, same as anyone else."
Gillian remembered the full-page ads –