"I hope you will feel better quickly, Danny. Lights out in five minutes. Goodnight." The two of them moved to leave. "Goodnight Mistress." And with that, I was shut into the room. I sat on the bed for a moment, and sighed. Why did I break that damn window? I cursed myself. Now I have to deal with this hellhole for the entire summer. Looking out the window, I saw Wade and his mother--Mistress Kathy, I reminded myself--walking in the well-lit yards over to their house. I felt like giving them the finger. I did. And there was a knock on the door. I opened it and saw one of my fellow farmhands, who was smiling at me in a friendly way. He was a head taller than I, and outweighed me by thirty pounds of solid muscle."Hi, there," he said, holding out his hand. "I'm Gordon." "So? Is that supposed to mean something?" He looked offended. "Hey, boy. I didn't mean to rain on your parade. With an attitude like that, you won't make it here. The Mistresses expect us to co-operate. This would certainly be out of the way enough to give to Melissa, even if nothing about it could really be proved. The leather bag now had to be carried in my hand, but that should be no real problem. That's what I thought. Hours later I wandered into a building with an indoor flea-market, really all sorts of strange things. I started at the back and worked my way forward, not finding much of interest. I set the leather bag down at a table near the front door, to look at an old 45rpm record. As I looked up to ask about the price, a hand took the bag and both were out the door and gone. "Hope that wasn't your wallet," said the man behind the counter. "No," I said, not sure just what to say. "No, it was just an old shirt." Well. That was fifty bucks gone, but the man was out of sight (I looked) and the theft was not worth reporting to the police even if I were not leaving Monday. I did buy the 45, and as I turned to leave the building my eye fell on a.
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