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I sighed. Shit shit shit, I thought, not only is this so very wrong but I’m going to never come myself. He pulled out of me, but he wasn’t blushing and he wasn’t beet red, instead he hugged me and said thank you before he pulled his pants up and scurried out of the shower facility.The next day was my last day of camping, and that night I waited 2 full hours later than usual to use the showers. I showered, alone thankfully. Cleaned up, and left the facility without so much as a fly intruding on me. I thought thankfully, that my last night would be a normal night even if it was a later night than usual. I made my way back to the camp, threw on some wood and drank a few beers before I decided it was time to sleep. I unzipped my tent and to get in and stopped, shocked at what I saw in the dim light coming towards me. There was the boy from the shower, being carried by what had to be his father, curled up and softly crying on his shoulder. I started to back away but the man. He might have succeeded, he remembered, had not Maggi managed to floor him from behind with a chair, knocking him unconscious and breaking his arm... his left arm... his pitching arm.But the ironical part had come later when her lover, who had turned out to be a prominent, local political hack, had engineered an attempted murder charge against him and made it stick, netting him a year and a day in prison. When it was done, a bitter ex- baseball player named Andy Connelly was advised by a benevolent warden that he might do better in another part of the country... or even another country. Had he thought about that?In fact, he'd thought about a lot of things, and that was but one of them. Divorced, broke and overflowing with hate, he had migrated north of the border, found employment in a small factory in Ontario, then, fumbled a stupid attempt to hijack its payroll.So, once again here he was, five-years later, no less bitter, but seasoned, and happy to be breathing free air once more.
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