I didn't much about it. My family had just moved from Mexico to California and we had no clue how different things worked here, and how similiar were ...ther things. When I was living in Mexico we had no money, but every month my mom managed to pay the rent. A man would come in every first of the month and ask for the money. My mom would ask me to go to my room. Then she would walk to the guy to her room and after two hours he would leave the house. So happy that he would forget to ask for the. One of the officers flashed a badge. ‘Ma’am, I’m afraid we’re going to have to ask you to come with us.’ ‘What’s going on?’ Matt said again. It was Nicki’s turn to shush him. ‘I’ll handle this.’ She turned to the officers, her chin tilted defiantly. ‘What’s going on?’ ‘Ma’am, we’ve been called in on an assault and battery complaint.’ ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ Matt demanded, and Nicki shushed him again, this time emphasizing her words with a shooing motion of her hand. ‘Is this about. After a few visits to the same motels I got the feeling of safety as I did a few exciting things. One was to fully open the curtains on my first floor room making it easy for passersby to see into the room. The second was to go to the swimming pool area that wasn't camera monitored.Once in the room I removed all of my clothes as quickly as possible and proceed to feel myself while unpacking and did some required paperwork. Anyone walking by could see me but not too easily as the sun was. It was no more than five miles to the duelling ground from the White Hart, a walk/trot gait by horse would get us there in just over an hour. We had just a cup of coffee before leaving the White Hart, as it was customary not to eat before a duel but to wait until after the exchange of fire.‘Pistols for two; breakfast for one!’ being the mordant expression used, not that anyone facing the prospect of being shot would have much of an appetite in any case — I certainly did not.It was just past six.