"choke on blood, if I speak. But then words well right up with the blood, I'm helpless to stop them: "I know you hate the mill," I tell him, and tears come the instant I speak. "I know you love baseball, and aren't doing what you want. But at least Vera fights. She says her dopey prayers no matter what!" I lean against the door, gasping for air and strength to finish. "All I want is for you to fight, Papa. To fight to stay alive inside! No matter what."