I pulled up his boxers and his pants and zipped his fly. In the silence beneath the desk, it sounded loud, but surely I’d been quiet enough. Surely ...’d done it right. I trembled as I did up his belt. He stood up as soon as I was done. I heard footsteps out of the room and then I saw him sit back down. I reached for his pants, eager to keep up my ministrations and earn my reward, but his hands reached out and stopped mine. He gripped me so hard it was painful. I stifled a cry. Maybe if I was. At minimum wage. He was the collector on agarbage truck for the city, which had a program to help first offendersget rehabilitated. But this really wasn't a first-step job. It was ajob Sid would work at until he retired on a meager government pensionin 26 years. There wasn't even much chance of promotion. In 12 years hewas moved up to driver of the truck. It was a 25 cents an hour raise,ten bucks a week, but at least he no longer had to dump the smellytrash cans.It was then, that the river told. More

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