I panicked. I was mid-shit. All you can do when you’re mid-shit is finish shitting. My only option was to finish as quietly and as slowly as I could, so that’s what I decided to do. Then: the softest plop of a little-boy turd on the newspaper. Koko’s head snapped toward the sound. “Who’s there? Hallo? Hallo?!” I froze. I held my breath and waited. “Who’s there?! Hallo?!” I kept quiet, waited, then started again. “Is somebody there?! Trevor, is that you?! Frances? Hallo? Hallo?”
