"Hey, wait, she still owes you her part Mikey." Cailey interuppted. It felt weird to have anyone beside Vicki call me that, but I let it pass. Be...ore anyone could say more, Vicki grabbed Cailey by the elbow (no one had yet untied her hands from behind her back) and practically threw her to the couch. At first I thought she was angry with Cailey for calling me Mikey, but then Vicki jumped up on top of her, straddling her lap, and then kissed her. She kissed hard, biting at Cailey's lower. We had no embarrassing scenes on our way to Canal Street, the start of the French Quarter, but several people still turned to watch me. Several women I should qualify, as I never noticed a single guy watching me. However, as Cate said, having someone watch you doesn't really bother anyone, so I managed to ignore it for the most part. I think it had an effect on my parents, though. They'd taken everything we'd said lightly, more concerned about a young woman promising to introduce their son to. As the day wore on and on I often went back to watch the video again until every second seemed like an hour and later I found myself almost counting down the minutes till she returned. I have no doubt that she deliberately took her time getting home that day because when Sarah finally pulled into the drive way I not only found her smiling like she had just heard the worlds funniest joke, but she had also stopped at the video store to rent some dvds. Those little distractions were forgotten as. From their vantage point across the valley, the three women watched the flames of their factory burn all night. The flames of the factory illuminated a long line of black men driven from the city in anger by Moabite men bearing whips. On the morrow, an exhausted and exceedingly sorrowful servant came bearing a few baskets of food. ‘This is all that I could salvage from your home after the mob looted the house. Your olive oil factory lies in ashes and all the foreign workers have been banished.
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