Check out this Joyce Oroz

If you haven't read "Read My Lipstick" yet ... what are you waiting for? Here is a small sample that doesn't give anything away, such as who done it.
“Did I tell you, Steve’s friend has volunteered to take us up in

his helicopter tomorrow so we can drop the fliers all over Salinas—

like green rain. He usually sprays the crops, but city hall will be

much more fun,” she giggled. “And we plan to put green food coloring

in the fountain.”
I tried not to roll my eyes.

“Anyone know the weather report for Thursday?” I asked.

Sarah jerked her head up with a mouth full of beans. She swallowed.

“If it rains we might have to change our plans,” she said, looking

at Steve for advice. Steve didn’t look up because he was in a

huddle with three student-types standing behind his chair. Near

the huddle, a young woman with jet-black hair and a snow-white

face announced she needed to leave. She had to hitchhike back to

her job in Santa Cruz. She said goodbye to Kyle and took off with

a backpack slung over her shoulder.

Finally our food arrived via a ten-year-old girl. Probably a

family member hired two minutes after the crowd arrived. Kyle

ate all of his combination special plus a donated chicken taco from

my plate. Alicia ate her enchiladas slowly as she conversed with a

young couple sitting across the table.

“I think it’s wonderful that you would take the time to picket

against something you feel is wrong,” Alicia said.

“Yeah, well, we know Steve. If he says go, we like, go,” the

young man said.

“I, like, go where Dillon goes,” his friend smiled and took another

bite from her end of the burrito they were sharing. All of a

sudden I felt a hundred years old. Alicia was hip. Sarah and Steve

were close to my age, but they were still able to relate to the modern

youth. I was lost. If I had been a mom and raised teenagers,

maybe I would have been able to understand the younger generation.

“Josephine,” Sarah shouted, trying to get my attention. “I

talked to David today. I tried to get him on the team, you know,

marching. He doesn’t want anything to do with it. I wondered if

you could try.”

“If David said he won’t march, there’s nothing I can do about

it,” I said, smiling a secret smile. Sarah would never understand

David, but that was fine with me.

My painters had finished eating, so I paid the bill and suggested

we go back to work.

“See you tonight, Sarah.” We pushed our way through the

crowd, out the front entrance and over to Alicia’s car.

Back at the Therapy Center, one could hear a pin drop in the

mammoth interior. No sawing, no scraping, no hammering. I

scratched my head. Being of sound mind and a curious nature, I

strolled down the hall, well beyond the mural, to the unfinished

construction area. I heard Hans’ voice coming from one of the unfinished

examining rooms, so naturally, I stopped and listened

from the hallway.



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