“Oh! I forgot to tell you my little secret about Margaret,” Iverson thought, shaking his head, “Her first love was with a gardener when she was in high school. I remember one night I saw her and the gardener...”
“Shut up, Iverson!” I yelled at him. “I don't want to hear any more of your nonsense!”
“It's true, I'm not lying.” He looked up at me intently. “I saw the gardener fucking her!”
“All right!” I couldn't help it. “Even if you're telling the truth, you can't just divulge people's secrets. Margaret is your sister, too.”
“She's not my sister, she's just a little bitch from that old bitch!”
“Can you be quiet for a while?”
“Quiet! Quiet!” He said, putting his index finger between his lips.
“Can you get me some beer?” He whispered.
“Of course. You'll be in bed waiting for me until I get back.”
“Just like this?” He said as he lay on the bed with his hands open.
“Yes, that's right. If I catch you making a noise, I'll pour all the beer down the toilet!”
