But, what about that box in the corner? She had not checked that one yet. She bent forward over the other boxes in front. It was impossible to move an...one of them as they were far too heavy for her. Well, if she couldn’t get the box to come to her, she had got to reach it instead. She stretched forward, bending from the waist and stretching her arm as far as she could reach. Almost there. Just a few more inches and she would reach it. She stretched her arm as far forward she dared, leaning her. Margarita's English was amazingly good by now. And her 18th birthday was on Tuesday.Last Tuesday, unfortunately. I had called her, wished her a happy birthday. I had a whole collection of gift-wrapped presents for her, too. More clothes -- clothing appropriate for wearing in the coming fall months. Beautiful, carefully selected clothing -- a dress, a skirt, a blouse, a scarf, even a winter coat -- all of it gift-wrapped.Winter, I was thinking, might be a bit colder in central New Mexico than. The little tradition had started when her daughters were children and Mum would bring Emma and me over after school for the fireworks. There were sausages and baked potatoes and beans to eat and fizzy drinks and every one always had a lot of fun. After the twins got older and went away to boarding school, Maggie still did the event but now invited children from the surrounding area. It was always popular and could attract up to 30 kids and their parents, probably because it was free. This year. Ouch.As they existed there nursing their various wounds, I helped the woman they had been attempting to rape to her feet, and walked her out of there."How did you beat up three of them?" she asked."I only beat up two of them," I argued, "One of them beat themselves up." Answer the question," she snapped."My dear girl," I said, "They knew about as much about fighting as you do." I don't know anything about fighting!" she protested."That's my point," I said, "One of them hit me with a roundhouse.