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Show Acting Alone Page 72 Chapter Six Shanny in her bikini on the beach was like a part of the sand, all light-brown and soft. As she puttered here and there among the fishing boats she wore a look of quiet, thoughtless satisfaction on her face, a slight half-smile that had been there ever since they'd crossed the Tropic of - Cancer? Capricorn? Copernicus? Who cares? She had a little swayback and belly, no waist or hips; and her breasts aimed straight up, popping out of the top of her bikini sometimes after she'd been body surfing. (Sam had to tell her to pop them back in quickly because this was a backwoodsy Catholic country and the beaches crawled with federales with American-made automatic weapons.) It was hard to tell where her strong little shoulders ended and her breasts began: it looked as though she were carrying a very light, invisible backpack with soft invisible straps smooshing up her flesh. Her breasts (not to dwell on the subject or anything) were simply continuations of the sweet baby fat that rolled in and out of her fuzzy armpits, Sam decided. There was clear fuzz everywhere on her, in all places the same length and consistency. She obviously hadn't even touched a razor yet - even though the girls of her generation are supposed to be far removed from the "organic" look of the sixties. Hairless she-lizards like Marie Osmond are |