“Matilda, we don’t close for another forty minutes.”“There’s no one out there,” she pleaded. “And ... oh my god, I need it. I’m drippi...g.”Carlotta peeked out of the pantry door; Matilda was bending over the prep table, lifting her skirt to show that she was telling the truth.She was telling the truth.Jason smiled, and unbuckled his pants.“Okay,” he growled. “But we have to be quick.”Carlotta lay onto the sack of flour that Jason had napped on just a few days ago, and got herself off once more,. The wild grapes on the hill behind the house were ripening, the early rice was ready to harvest and the first of the corn was, too. Alawa helped me while Mataoka sat watching us from the house platform while she sewed clothes from all the skins we’d gathered trapping over the winter.Each evening we sat around a fire and Alawa and Mataoka taught me the finer points of their language and improved my pronunciation markedly. All attempts at teaching Alawa any English failed miserably, though, but. More

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