His short black hair had become decidedly oily, it stuck straight up too, like my son’s latest haircut. A fly landed on his face and with one stron..., wide hand he waved it away. He looked fairly content lying there. Like he was lying on a beach getting a tan, not lying on ground that was solid one minute and swampy the next, in the middle of a jungle on an island stuck on the rim of the Pacific Ocean. He didn’t look like a guy who could use that rifle he never let out of his sight. I wondered. Finally I began to urinate, stepping closer towards the bowl so I didn't miss-direct my aim and cause yet another mess. As I did so, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Chris had stepped away from the door, closing the distance between us. She now stood beside me looking down at me as I peed."Can I hold it?" she asked."What?" Hold it? Always wanted to do that ... see what it was like, you know ... being a girl and all." I don't know Chris..." I began. To me, that was bordering on a. More

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