After that, the nighttime feedings of Jim did get to be a pain. I never said anything to Helen or to Martha, but they could see that I was having some...trouble with the necessary routine. Therefore, they sent me out to look for bad guys just so all of us could get some peace!It was pretty damned windy, but the rains had not started yet, when I left for Arbuckle to pick up a fresh batch of wanted posters. My feelings were relieved when I met a road agent a few hours after leaving home. The fool. I avoid the sun and wear SPF 45 every day, even in the rain, so my skindoesn't turn ruddy and puffy like my Caucasian dad. At least, Ireflected, incarceration might save him from melanoma. My eyes are brown,like my Hmong mother. She is a caramel colored, hour glass-bodied tribalwhose family airlifted to Fresno after we lost the Vietnam War. My dadwas a vet who never outgrew the trauma, the drugs or the women he hadexperienced in Nam. He had tried to prolong it with marriage, but it hadbeen a. More

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