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”She’d apparently run out of words. I, for my part, found my voice; it’d been missing for some moments.“I’ll be moving out right away. Oh, and just so you’ll know, we had a power outage at the yard; everybody got the day off. But it’s early enough that I can find me a place to sack out tonight no problem,” I said.“No! Jim, please don’t leave me. I know how this looks but it isn’t as bad as in fact I know it looks,” she said.“Yes it is Claire. It is very bad. And, yes, I do have to move out. What the two of you said about me in there, well, I just don’t know how I’m ever going to be able to deal with it or sure as hell forget it. I just don’t know,” I said.“Jim, sit down with me. Let me make my case before you do something rash. Please, I beg of you, Jim, really,” she said.I was on the verge of breaking up. But, in the back of my mind or heart or soul or something, I was for whatever reason curious. What could she possibly want to say to me? There just could not be anything that would. She was wearing a brown skirt with a blue T shirt and a sweatshirt tied around her waist. I was about to tear into her about the accident when she spoke to me first. In very proper Dutch accented English and said she was very sorry and wasn't paying attention and I could have been killed, which started her crying again. As a typical male I fall for tears. So I told I was ok. She asked if she could pay for any damamges. I said no I was fine and turn to go back a gather my stuff together. She followed after me and help gather my clothes and things which had been dumped out of my backpack. While doing so she said that at least let her drive me to her place to clean up and have something to eat. I said that was ok, but she insisted so I finally gave in and said yes.So we loaded the scooter and my things into the back of her Volvo and started down the road. She told me her name was Brie and that she lived neaby, so we chatted as we drove there. I told her why I was in Holland and that I.
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