Mr. Anderson was a nice looking man. He was also my Dads best friend from college and my last class of the day. He taught algebra. He always brought m... home after school like my dad had arranged. My Dad thought kids on the bus were troublemakers. He was going through a divorce with his wife. My dad talked to him about it a lot when he came over to have a couple of beers with my dad. I had an awful crush on him.Mr. Anderson had dark hair with just a sprinkling of silver and hazel eyes. He was 6. I lock the front doors, eye the parking lot, admiring the way the street lighting bounces off rain puddles and car windows.I feel you coming up behind me. I put both hands against the glass and let your hands wrap around my waist. You are leaning into me and smelling my hair. Your long fingers pull the hair away from my face and you bite my ear. Instant shivers go through my body. I lean forward more, my wet shirt presses against the window, sure to give any passers-by a lovely view.I press my. Cal's left hand was all thatwas visible, for he had clung onto the edge of a lone piece of plywoodin the marina and was holding onto it for dear life. He was veryunconscious and when she lifted him out of the water, he wasn'tbreathing. "Cal?! Can you hear me?!" she asked nervously, franticallywondering what to do. "Please, tell me who this is speaking to you! I'mbegging you!"Still getting no response, she flew back to Jeri and Miranda, hopingfor the love of the Almighty to give her the answers. " If you know all that, and you want to still drink firewater, feelfree to do so. Just don't complain if your neighbors shun you, as thedrunken warriors would have been shunned: had any of them livedthrough the battle. The firewater has been the bane of our people for200 years. Do not fall for it again. Instead, let us all work togetherto make our nation strong again."River stopped talking and turned her back on the people to face hersingers. She smiled faintly at them, wondering what the.
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