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I’m not a delicate flower by any means, but the silence makes things so much more difficult. A quick stop by the grocery store gave our town minister a chance to invite me to Thanksgiving. The reader may remember that this minister had a son named Samuel who I have written about a few times. The same Samuel conned me into sex with him before I turned it around and became an ‘advisor’ of sorts. His father caught me at the grocery store and before I could recite the Lord’s Prayer, I was invited to their house for dinner. There was a part in my gut that hoped that the dinner would be me, the Reverend and his wife. I arrived at the house an hour before in case his wife needed any help. Sure enough, she needed me to peel a few hard boiled eggs and help her set the table. Shirley and I were enjoying the small respite away from the guys before her husband appeared to give his wife a kiss. It was then she asked him where Samuel was. As my hope disappeared slightly due to the fear that. All chairs were occupied by men smoking and drinking, two more stood leaning against the structure, the same mangy brown dog lay below two pairs of feet. As Jens strolled towards the gathering, the dog lifted it’s head and snarled, getting up, but not attacking the Dane who had managed to kick it. He breathed a sigh of relief and asked in his most fluent French for a beer.It got through as one of the swarthy men shouted inside and a light voice trilled an acknowledgement. All the men were sullen but not anti the pale flaxen haired beefy youth. He decided to check inside and picked his way through a bunch of smelly men into the shade to find a few more men and three women. Stunned to find the rape victim present, propped against the bar holding a bottle of beer ... but fully made and dressed up, chatting to two men. Thinking what a good ruse it had been yesterday to wear the pollution masks he studied her briefly. How different she looked he mused as he spotted a young girl holding up.
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