"Wanda Bone Bouvier had that thing that makes a hound leap
against his cage. It was a quality that was partly a bonus
from nature and partly learned from cheesecake calendars and
Tanya Tucker albums. Wanda had realized early on that her
body was a taunt that sent would-be Romeos off on quests for
Love Oil and ceiling mirrors and nerve. She had gone clean up
to her sixteenth year, wandering school halls and pool halls,
public parks and private parties, doing an earthy shimmy and
sashay through them all. Though she had a deadpan gaze she
had always sharply noted the weak knees and lolling tongues
around her. She had found this effect to be delightful and
fun until that fateful sixteenth year when she had gone with
a girl friend to a roller-skating rink at dusk, and left
before midnight in love forever with a fortyish
gangster."
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