Laying her palm against my face, she says, "Look, Randy, I'm sorry to sound so harsh but if you feel free to make affectionate gestures like that, it'...s just a matter of time before you do it in the wrong place and in front of the wrong person. While it might cause you a red face, it could cost me my career. Don't you understand that?" I do now. Like I said, it won't ever happen again."She kisses me on the cheek and hugs me tight for a moment before turning back to the sink. I take that as a. Students had been told to writeanything, a short essay, a story or even a poem. Michael turned in fourshort poems all written in his tight, neat script. Sister Agatha knew enough not to praise the boy before the class aboutthe poetry, since she had already seen how the others had teased him forhis sensitivity. The poems were simple ones. They were about a prettysunset, the sweetness coming from a fresh rain, his mother's cookies andone called, "The Pink Dress." His Catholic grade school. I also insisted he pay attention to what I was doing so hecould do it himself if the need arose - "just in case."I tried to talk him into wearing a nice skirt for breakfast, but he wasadamant about wearing the shorts. He did hesitate a bit when I pointedout that the skirt or a dress wouldn't show so much of his legs, but inthe end he just couldn't bring himself to wear a skirt or a dress, andhe wound up going in the clothes he slept in. He even wore the samesandals he wore the night before.I. Glancing aroundfurtively, he slipped it quickly inside his satchel and snuck back towhere he had seen the History by Ptolemy earlier. Picking it up, hewalked towards the counter he had spied off to one side of the shop andrang the desk bell there.An old man appeared from a back room and smiled from behind shaggy browsand a neatly trimmed white beard."Ahh, Ptolemy, an excellent edition and would make a fine addition toyour collection young man." His dark eyes twinkled as he looked Kyleover with.