But that’s were the ‘usual’ began to shift and become less stable again for the young fourteen year old Jessie Harper ... the girl with the voic... of an angel.On Sunday morning at church Jessie was meant to do another piece for the congregation with Carrie and Troy Pearson backing her up then they were going to do their own piece with Jessie as the backup - and all done in a sea of contrapuntal harmonies coming from the choir in the background. The only problem was - Carrie and Troy Pearson. We swam to the other side, then back. Making to the dock, I held onto the side Catching my breath. Mike came over and said you're a good swimmer. I started to relax and soon forget we were nude. He swam out a little, and asked if I wanted to dive off his shoulders. I said sure. He squatted down and I climbed on his back. He held my hands as I stood up. Then he launched himself up and let me go. We did this for a while. Reaching out as I came up to him, he pulled me in front of him. Out of. “I heard you screaming, the door was locked. What happened?” he asked in a panic. She started to sob and her dad hugged her and they sunk to the floor. “I wish I could tell you.” she said through her crying. Her dad hugged her tighter, and they just sat there. “Why cant you tell me? You can tell me anything, I am your father.” he said. “No, I can’t he said he would kill Damian if I told anyone.” she sobbed and clung to her dad tighter. “He raped you.” he said barely audible. And in that. As I reach to take my own glass you stop me with another firm lift of your open palm. Before I have a chance to translate my surprise and confusing into a coherent sentence, you tell me that I look nice. That you are pleased with how I have dressed. And you ask me to stand in front of you and let you look at me, after all this time. It’s not unreasonable, is it? Don’t we often ask friends to show off their outfit. That’s all it is. I bury the thought that you are speaking to me like a director.