You know I read that twenty years ago. Weena’ll like it.”“I hope so. She didn’t cry at all.”“Do you have any homework?”“Did it already. It was stupid.”“You shouldn’t say that. Would you like to change schools? I thought you’d make friends in a neighborhood school.”“You were wrong, mum. I’m the ‘jap’.”“I’ll talk to your dad when he gets home.”“Right.”“What are you doing?”“I’m looking at one of the Isaacs books. Aboriginality. Gramps lent me four of hers.”“So, you’re have a hard time at school.” Patrick remarked after dinner.“Not hard. I’m the ‘other’ to them.”“You’re not supposed to understand that.”“Nor your being a python nor me an eagle.”“Hmmm. Do you fight?”“No. Pushing in the hallway, but no real fighting.”“Do you retaliate?”“Not worth it. But I have a plan. A Pitjantjara plan.”“Can you explain to me?”“Sure. I’m gong to point the bone at them.”“You’re not serious!”“Sort of. I don’t know the dances, and I haven’t the spells. But it seems to be mental. I’ve smoothed a white. He wiped off his dick with some tissues, zipped back up and left quietly. My wife backed onto the toilet and sat down, fighting off tears.She then heard her friend coming in the house, so she quickly pulled up her pants and flushed and left the bathroom. My wife made an excuse about needing to leave and then drove around for an hour or so (in her cummy red panties, I assumed...which were the first ones I found in the laundry.) I then asked her if they had been together again after that, but she quickly denied that, saying she felt too guilty to do it again. (I knew right away that was a lie...he's been fucking her at least once/twice a week ever since.) I was happy that she finally admitted *something* and tried to be reassuring. (I was hard as a rock at that point, but my wife was acting very vulnerable right then, so I suppressed my libido and just held her. We didn't fuck or anything...just talked quietly for a little while longer and eventually went to sleep.I never let on to my.
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