XI. Justice.

A Village—MORNING

I am walking along a canal with Mary. I swing a machete at the vegetation to make us a path through. She looks to me in serious earnest, but I look at the ground and the swooshing of my trench coat mostly. Soon she tugs on my arm.

“What do you think of the other girls on the staff?”

“They are just little girls, Mary.”

She smiles coyly back, and I gulp. I think I have made the wrong impression. “Well, not that I am that old, Mary.”

Mary purses her lips and walks faster, past me. She doesn’t press any further; she is a good 20 years older than me and it is nothing personal even in my depression, not to fool around with her. I want kids. My own. Someday.

Maybe a dog too.

Back in the crew van, I ask the Boss if there is any more pertinent work to do; and since she says no and even hands back my bucket full of tools to me, I decide to work putting together my notes down in my journal as I promised Andrea, I would keep back at it.

Mary is milling around, and I don’t care whether she is happy or not with me. The new cute redhead, is coming back to the van now.

I ignore her.