‘You’re just jealous because you don’t have a man to get you all wet before lessons.’ Paula took his rude remark in stride. ‘Well, yeah, there is that.’ Sandy met me with an embarrassed smile. We made smalltalk and went to the floor with the couples. The instructor began with his ‘wet dishrag’ speech. It didn’t seem as funny the second time around. The first two weeks some of Sandy’s friends from work came for lessons. She liked the easy social atmosphere. We clustered together in a group during breaks and after lessons. Once we got beyond the standard pleasantries and chitchat of the first couple of weeks we developed a genuine friendship. I learned that she was divorced and had two boys, 17 and 20 years old. She had spent 20 years putting them first and now they were old enough to be on their own. She was ready to spend her time and energy on herself. Sandy’s friends had other commitments and one week we found that were a group of two. The instructor’s witty ‘dishrag speech’ had. "Sorry, Mr.— uh, Larry," he said. "I really wasn't trying to pry, I'm just trying to explore with you how freely we can talk." Pretty freely, unless there's something else," I said, easing back a little.One of the other guys cleared his throat. Brodine had introduced him as somebody Garson, but nothing more, but from the way the marshal immediately deferred to him I figured he was either his boss or at least somebody up higher in the food chain there. "May I ask why you're here, Mr. Costain, why you wanted to see us?"It was my turn to show surprise. "Well, protection, I guess," I said. "I mean, a little help here. Isn't that what you guys do, protect people?"Garson got an apologetic look on his face, which I knew didn't augur well. "Mr. Costain, among our other duties we administer the Witness Security program," he said, the emphasis clear. "Witness Security," he repeated. "It's for witnesses and sometimes their immediate families. I'm afraid ... well." He spread his hands.It wasn't.
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