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Show Acting Alone Page 7^ hugged him tight, almost violently, her little hands trying to reach each other around his belly. "You meanie," she'd whisper. At night she cooed sadly over Sam's pulverized nose. She kissed it lightly, leaving a little tiny bubble of saliva on it, which she blew on tenderly until it popped, to cool the red fever of sunburn and bone-fracture and tropical infection. Then they just rolled over and went to sleep on the beach, at any old spot where they'd happened to drop. For fear of ultra-violet blisters and melanoma and wrinkles on his red-haired Celtic/Nordic body, Sam had mostly just stayed in the car for the daytime part of this trip, so far, eating lots of dry pan dulce and smiling out the window at all the lovely little brown people and all the millions of lovely brown berry babies* Here in Mexico Sam was shedding all his cynicism and becoming a downright altruistic, shit-grinning, sentimental sap. Big redheads who want to remain tough on the inside should avoid the sun and tropical air; or else they should avoid the sweetening, softening effects of the attentions of a little French/Irish A-plus thing, especially if they are not quite sure whether she loves them or whether she's just temporarily turned on by a man whose nose has recently been pulverized in hand-to-hand combat with one of America's finest. Each lovely little brown Mexican person smiled back at Sam, unlike Utahn or Kanoradoan people, who never smiled at anybody, it seemed. Each |