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How could you! ... Spying on me ... like this!” his voice accused bitterly.Blind maternal empathy drew me to his side.“Guy! No, I wasn’t spying!” I pleaded, stroking his head. “I had no idea you would even home. What happened?”His eyes are searching my face for the truth.“Well ... maybe so.” He says putting an arm on my bare shoulder. Then murmuring lowly adds, “anyway ... I am home, see ... and I’m sorry if I shocked you.”He offers a forgiving kiss.I respond and somehow Guy makes that kiss much deeper than is decent.Suddenly I realise how improperly dressed I am beside him; but then Guy closes his eyes and lies back calmly, so I just relax and watch him.His hand still held my lingerie and I guiltily shift my gaze shifts to his naked torso.I’m in awe at his handsome endowment; wondering on the effects of excessive masturbation.I’m tempted to touch it; long to touch it; but no. Instead I meekly offer to get the kettle on for tea.Now Guy opened his eyes and gave a soft smile; his tone. They didn’t need your signed statement at all. It won’t help them, but it could hurt you.’ ‘Oh, I never thought of that. Should we have got a lawyer to go in there with us?’ ‘Probably, but it’s too late now. Let’s just see what comes of all this. Our defense is that we didn’t do anything wrong, so I don’t see how we can get into any trouble unless the police try to do something underhanded.’ We got into the pickup and drove to the diner to get a late lunch, since our picnic stuff was still in the woods, surrounded by yellow police crime scene tape. The diner felt so familiar, so normal, that what had just happened to us seemed very far away, almost like a chapter in a novel that we’d read a long time ago. We sat in our usual booth, just as we had so many times before, making small talk about harmless subjects. The familiarity helped calm me down, and it helped that I was looking across the table at the most beautiful girl in the world. We ate our burgers fast because we were hungry,.
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Luckily a friend of his grandfather, old Will, took him into his boxing gym, so someone was tellin’ him to behave sometimes. Upending his box of batteries he found some Libby would definitely want next week and put em onto the recharger. His life had been rearranged one night. He’d been up to no good, as usual, with a couple of equally-useless deadshit friends, stealin’ cars, squealin’ rubber, yahooin’ down back roads. They’d flew past a car wrapped around a tree, they were doin’ twice the speed limit when grim-faced highway patrolmen chased em, boxed em in, dragged em out and handed em over to angry policemen from the crash scene. With their hair griped in strong fists, they’d been marched up to the wrecked car and held, shocked and sobbin’ at the horror inside. Were those really people? The cops had let them go with a blunt, ‘You little basteds ‘ll end up like that too if you don’t think about what you’re doin”, and for a change they weren’t beaten up. Don still remembered that.

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