"Oh hi Kylie. Making friends?" Wendy said casually. It was a trapquestion, she could hardly say no at this point with Jasper next to her."Yes, Jasper ...as just telling me about his hobby," Kylie replied evenly."Oh what is that?" Wendy asked."He's an artist," Kylie replied simply."Oh does he do etchings?" Wendy quipped back, the euphemism was not loston her."No, I work in watercolours mainly," Jasper interjected. "I do bothportraits and landscapes. I offered to paint Kylie if she'd like. She'sso. He smiled hopefully, crossed to the other side of the road and stuck his thumb out. The fifth car that passed him stopped a short distance away and he hitched a ride with an elderly couple that asked him a million questions during the ten minute ride back into town. They were traveling from afar and didn’t know the town, so he had them just drop him off in the center of town. He thanked them several times for the ride and the couple insisted they exchange phone numbers before parting ways. He. She looked into his eyes, and saw the confusion and fear there. She hadfound his secret stash of magazines and read them all over the last fewmonths while he had been so busy with work. The things she had read therehad both surprised and excited her. She wanted to try these things that shewas reading about and she thought that perhaps the man she loved so dearlywanted that too. Her heart had flip-flopped at the look he had given thepaddle she was holding. When she had seen that look, she. "I'm taking you to my Aunt Jean." I mean about ... that man ... that man back there ... Howard, he's going to..." Gail, there is nothing I can do. I told you, I'm not the Border Patrol and I'm not Homeland Security. As much as I want to call Frank and about twenty other men I know, all that would do is put all of us in prison." But that man back there..."Howard stopped her. He hated it, but he could do nothing. He tried to explain about the problem of illegal immigration. There weren't enough.