“Feel like talking about it?” I asked. “I don’t know,” she said. “I mean, I want to, but after what happened between us last weekend, I do...’t know if...” “Maddie,” I said, reaching over and taking her hand. “Whatever happened between us, you can talk to me. It’ll stay just between us, if that’s what you’re worried about. Hell, if anything, what we did last weekend ought to prove more than anything that stuff can stay just between us.” “True,” she said with a rueful smile. She chewed her bottom. So they followed me home. My mom opened the door. They immediately crossed me and they entered home without even asking.They started complaining about me. I was really embarrassed. My mom was a shy woman. She wore a shalwar kamiz that night and it was pretty decent. Still I could see one of the black. Police man laid his eyes on her. I could see it. But I didn’t do anything as I was scared myself. My mom was wearing a sort of dupatta on her head. I was able to see the lust in those ugly police. I revved the engine just to make sure the clutch was going to work. It was probably the weakest thing about the bike. When it engaged, just as it should, I felt a lot better about the ride.I pedaled out of the parking lot, around and onto the trail. The trail was filled with ups and downs. I used the motor sparingly. I tried to pedal as much as I could and rely on the engine just to help me up the hills. The five miles to the second staging area just flew by. I arrived at the second stage at. Susan, meanwhile, was tacking color swatches on the wall of John's roomin her new base housing. She had chosen a white base with touches of alight mauve for the trim and a very light pastel pink for curtains andcarpet. John's furniture, French, slightly provincial but a touch modernin white was trimmed to match that pastel pink. Shear polyester chiffoncurtains were tied back with like material fashioned into very large,very pretty soft bows.It would be a cute room and for a girl not too much.