The moonlight bathes the backyard in its blue light. The oiled spit gleams on its iron supports over the charcoal filled pit. Dad set it up yesterday,...the kindling, covered by the charcoal, and the four long wicks of rolled cotton that sink to the bottom of the pit, to light it. In between the regular charcoal he mixed self lighting one, to make sure it will light up easily. I helped him set it up, another family tradition I could have done without. A can of lighter fluid to soak the cotton. Without pausing she looked straight at me and asked, "So, Mr. Hayles, now that you've had time to collect your thoughts would you care to explain to me what was going on out there?"I couldn't help glancing across at the two girls, their blazers hanging open and, in the case of Natasha one of her nipples clearly visible through her blouse and swallowed. What excuse could I give to explain what I'd been doing?"Well, Mr. Hayles," snapped Ms. Chandler breaking me from my stupor. "Was it what it. More

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