Dickheads shit-talk, huddled single-file First-world frat-boys and prairie skinheads who will never walk a mile or mourn a murdered friend in this tiny woman´s shoes. Drink up and mumble your abuse. I´m still humbled by it all: around the same time that I was riding with no hands, busting windows and getting busy behind the sportsplex (with Labonte´s older sister decked out in her Speedos), Bella was flinching from the sting of a Depo Proveran 'family planning', her own Pearl Harbour and a holocaust spanning 25 years to the rest of her life. A prison my country underwrote in paradise. And in the shadows of Santa Cruz, she crossed her fingers behind her back. Built Suharto a Trojan horse and lay still 'til the motherfucker sent her north where as night fell she emerged with a box under her arm that held der pledge of allegiance and her uniform. She laid it at the gates of General´s embassy and her whisper echoed into a dawn as she disappeared: