by Terry Lee
Lifting the oar, she ran a hand over the dried smooth wood. With a desire that seemed to have a life of its own she lowered the oar in the water and paddled with long determined strokes.
She knew she was dreaming. Strange. She also realized a thick rope secured the canoe to the dock. Through her mystical dream-state, which makes little sense to the conscious mind, she knew she needed to untie the rope to cross the lake.
It was like watching herself in a movie. Untie the rope, Einstein, she wanted to scream. She kept her rowing pace through the water. The urge to reach the opposite shoreline plagued her. The knotted rope held her back. Frustration built. She needed to untie the rope to free herself. Was she unable? Or unwilling?
After waking the next morning with a mood that registered with the scum-sucking mud dwellers of her lake dream she sat on the edge of the bed, residual frustration lingering. It was only a dream, yet it felt so real. Bizarre. And total nonsense. Why didn’t she untie the stupid rope? She deplored helplessness in any fashion.
She dressed in slow-mo, unable to shake the futility of the dream. Seeing she had an hour before meeting Angela, she decided on breakfast. Maybe food and a shot of caffeine would give her a boost.
Finding the breakfast station empty, Quinlan opted for a blueberry bagel and strong, black coffee. The nourishment and caffeine helped open her eyes, but did little to dismiss her mood.
“Good morning,” Angela said, entering the breakfast station. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Angela took the seat next to Quinlan.
Quinlan found Angela’s tone annoyingly chipper. “I suppose.” She feigned a smile.
“Sleep well?”
“Yes, wonderfully.” Terrible, actually.
“Good.” Angela rose. “Ready to get started?”
“Yeah, sure.” Quinlan really wanted to spend the day doing anything but follow someone else’s orders.
“Before we start I’ve got an errand to run. Do you mind?”
“Not at all.” Quinlan pushed up from the table. Like I have a choice.
“I need to go to the bookstore. We can walk.” Angela led Quinlan outside and pointed down the street. “This way.”
Quinlan fell in step with Angela.
“You feeling okay? You sound a bit…puny.”
“I’m fine.” Quinlan’s voice flat. “I just had a strange dream last night.”
Angela’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh?”
Quinlan shrugged. “It was dumb. You know, dreams never make sense.”
“Want to talk about it?” Angela slowed her pace. “Sometimes that helps.”
“It’s just….” Quinlan started, then decided she really didn’t want to go there. “Nothing important.”
“Hmmm, I see.” Angela pointed ahead. “There’s our stop.”
Walking inside, Quinlan felt she had stepped back in time to a quaint mom-and-pop book store, the kind that preceded the more modern mega-bookstore chains. The smell of some wonderful coffee concoction filtered through the shop, adding to the ambiance.
“This way,” Angela directed. “I need a gift.”
She followed Angela to an alcove off one side of the building which housed a small art gallery. Water colors, oils, acrylic and exquisite scenic posters lined the walls. Several freestanding displays dotted the middle of the mini gallery.
“I’ll just be a few minutes.” Angela shooed Quinlan with a hand-wave. “Look around.”
Quinlan wandered the perimeter of the exhibit area, glancing briefly at the art pieces with an unfocused gaze. She found Angela toward the back.
“How do you like this one?” Angela stood before a striking poster of a moss-colored lake with a dense autumn forest backdrop. Sunset colors drizzled hues of oranges and pinks through the water. A weathered dock in the foreground near the edge of the picture secured a small wooden canoe with a water-stained cable rope. The sinking sun behind the dense forest on the far shoreline cast a looming shadow of the canoe on the water.
She tilted her head. “It’s….” She moved closer. “Something looks….”
“Yes?” Angela edged in.
“It sort of….” Quinlan’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “It looks familiar somehow.”
“Did you see the quote at the bottom?”
Quinlan squinted to read the small print all but obscured in the darkened shadows of the water.
“You cannot discover new oceans
Unless you have the courage to
Lose sight of the shore.”
“That’s nice,” Quinlan said, and walked off.
“Why don’t you get us a latté at the coffee bar?” Angela said. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Sure.” Quinlan’s mood darkened further, refrained from adding whatever. Her attitude sucked and she knew it. Sucked. Not a grandmother word.
CHAPTER 32
ANGELA AND QUINLAN
Angela waited until Quinlan moved through the arched doors into the book part of the store before reaching for her cell phone.
“Mary? I need to talk fast. Do you have a minute?”
“Go ahead, I’m listening,” Mary said.
“Good. Look, tell George it didn’t work. I thought I saw a glimpse of something here at the gallery, but she shut it down. Completely.”
“Nothing?” Mary asked.
“Nada.”
“Then, we’ll move forward,” Mary said.
“Okay. I just wanted to double check. Talk to you soon.”
~~~
Quinlan sat at the coffee bar staring into her cup of coffee, her propped up elbow holding her chin.
“Good news!” Angela said, dropping onto a nearby stool. “Just got a call from Mary and guess what? You get your certificate of completion.” Angela paused a half-beat. “Surprise!”
“What?” Quinlan bolted from her seat. Her dismal mood magically evaporated.
“That’s right,” Angela said. “After we leave here we’ll go to my office and you’ll get your certificate.”
“I don’t believe it!” Quinlan hadn’t felt so exhilarated since being granted the return trip. “What happened?”
“Nothing really. Sometimes the rest of the session is, you know….” Angela’s eyes dropped to the floor. “Waived…a time-saving measure.” Pause. “Sort of.”
“Great, let’s go!” Quinlan felt her mood approach manic.
“Can I finish my latté?” Angela swirled her coffee with a small stir stick.
Quinlan shifted from one foot to the other, unable to sit. Her wheels were already spinning a new mental “to do” list.
“Now, there’re still a few things you’ll need instruction on.” Angela took a sip of her steaming brew.
“Yes. Like how to access Gracie.” Quinlan felt instantly awake. Straight adrenaline mainlined through her veins.
“Listen to me.” Angela’s tone stern. “I’m serious.”
Quinlan felt like a young child waiting for the recess bell. “Okay, what?”
“I know you’ve been sent back to assist your daughter.”
Quinlan’s eyes met Angela’s deep glare.
“Just try and remember what you’ve learned. Can you do that?”
“Yes. Of course.” Quinlan took a huge gulp of latté and immediately spit the scalding liquid back into the cup.
“Ouch. That had to hurt.” Angela took another sip of coffee and stood. “I’ll just make this to-go before you do any permanent damage to yourself.”
Quinlan nodded, fanning her mouth with her hand.
~~~
Back in Angela’s office, Quinlan held the precious certificate as if it had been dipped in gold. I’ve done it! she thought.
“Hang on to that. I’ll send a copy to Mary.” Angela pulled a blue folder from her desk. “Okay, quick review.”
She tried to sit still, but couldn’t keep her heels from tapping the floor.
“Chill, will you?” Angela flipped to the summary tab at the back of the folder.
> At the command, she inched slightly backwards in the chair, but still close enough to bolt as soon as Angela gave the word.
“To review.” Angela cleared her throat. “Our purpose here is what?”
Quinlan, glad she had memorized her notes, blurted, “A-C-G-I-P.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“A-C-G-I-P. It’s alphabetical,” Quinlan said. “That’s how I remember. Always have.” Quinlan rattled off, “assist, control, guard, intercede, protect.”
“COMFORT!” Angela yelled, pushing Quinlan back in her seat. “C is for comfort, not control!”
“Right.” Oops.
Angela narrowed her eyes. “For the purpose of?”
“Personal growth and development.” The words fired out almost before the question left Angela’s mouth.
“Isn’t that P-G-D?” Angela’s mouth curved upward in a sly smile.
“Actually, it would be D-G-P.” She had no patience at the moment for Angela’s humor or lack of alphabetizing skills.
Angela barely shook her head as if shooing a fly off her nose, then continued. “And, under no circumstances, do we….”
Quinlan sucked in blank air. What don’t we do? She wet her lips. “I know it. Just give me a minute.” She scoured the corners of her brain.
Angela waited.
“Under no circumstances do we, ummm….” Quinlan felt the agony of defeat creep in. She’d come so close….
“Interfere with free will,” Angela offered.
“Interfere with free will.” Quinlan felt a thin moustache of sweat on her upper lip.
“Lessons or challenges to be….”
Seconds clicked by in Quinlan’s head, louder than her heel tapping. “Learned!” she shouted. “There. I told you I knew it.”
Angela blinked hard. “Let’s move on.”
“Yes, let’s.” Quinlan edged up on her chair again.
“Do you have your ID bracelet with you?”
Quinlan rummaged through both pockets of her jacket before handing the shiny blue bracelet to her ground patrol.
Angela passed the bracelet over a small laser pad on the corner of her desk, which immediately produced a blue glow in the middle of the bracelet panel. She handed it back.
“Open it at the clasp,” Angela said.
The lock easily disengaged under Quinlan’s touch.
“Find the arrow on the panel, push down and pull.”
Quinlan placed a shaky finger over the pointer. The end cap released. Lines formed between her eyebrows. “This looks like a jump drive thingy.”
“It is a jump drive thingy.”
“What’s it for?” Quinlan turned it over in her hand.
“Take it to the library on the third floor of the station building. You’re to access one of the blue computers with your jump drive thingy.” Angela smiled. “Follow the directions on the screen and you’ll be on your way.”
“That’s it?”
“Pretty much.”
Quinlan snapped the cap back on the jump drive. “Can I go now?”
“If you like.”
She stood and turned toward the door.
“Oh…wait,” Angela said.
What now? It took all Quinlan’s pent-up energy to keep her eyes from rolling.
Angela placed a square white box on her desk and pushed it toward Quinlan. “A little something from me.”
Quinlan lift the lid, her puzzled expression transformed into a smiley face. Nestled between lacy pieces of parchment paper were layers of luscious desserts.
“Your favorites, I believe.” Angela smiled a knowing, playful grin. “The Tiramisu wouldn’t have traveled well.” She paused. “You’ll have to settle for extra baklava.”
She briefly drooled over the lavish treats before forcing the box lid shut. “This is so thoughtful. Really. And thanks for everything.” Quinlan shoved the box under her arm.
Angela tilted her head, eyeing the sideways pastry box.
Respectfully rearranging the box to a more upright position, Quinlan offered an apologetic smile. “Good, I may need your help.” She bolted from Angela’s office and thought she heard, “Yes, I assume you will.” before the door slammed behind her.
CHAPTER 33
QUINLAN
Rushing back to her living quarters, Quinlan tossed the pastry box on the bed. She ran a comb through her hair, smeared on lipstick, glanced in the mirror out of habit, and headed out the door.
Ten minutes later, panting heavily, Quinlan stood in front of the over-sized double doors of the station building. She slapped her blue “gold” card against the sensory panel, which allowed her access to the building. As the doors opened she plowed through, mowing over something or someone. She stepped back. It couldn’t be one of the patina walls, she wasn’t even inside yet. Her eyes focused on a person sprawled in a crash-like position on the floor. “Eddie!”
“Hello.” He stood, brushing his hands down his uniform.
She ushered him clear of the door. “I’m so sorry. Remember me? Your old pal Quinlan?”
“Yes ma’am.” Eddie’s reply was distant.
She hoped the black-rimmed glasses held together at the bridge of his nose with duct tape were temporary. They resembled badly aged safety goggles. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.”
“You been doing okay?” Quinlan asked.
“Fine.” Eddie shot a glance over his shoulder.
Quinlan offered a warm smile. “Will you be heading back soon?”
“Yes.”
Eddie’s short and direct answers reminded Quinlan of his lack of social skills.
“Well, I just want to….” Words locked in her throat and her face flushed when she spotted the handsome Mr. Clean walking up behind Eddie.
Either her scarlet cheeks or the feeling of someone breathing down his neck caused Eddie to hunch over. His head sunk into his body like a turtle. “Someone behind me?” he mouthed.
Quinlan nodded, inhaling the scent of cotton candy.
“Edward.” Thomas’s voice boomed, firm but gentle.
“Yes sir?” Eddie Urkel reincarnate.
“Have you finished your landing report?” Thomas spoke to Eddie, though his gaze remained on Quinlan.
“Yes sir.”
“Good.” Pause. “I see your new glasses haven’t arrived.” Thomas winked at Quinlan. Eddie studied the floor. “No sir.”
Is it getting warm in here? Quinlan felt bead-sweat on her upper lip. How unattractive.
Thomas took Quinlan’s hand and planted an ever so soft kiss. “And, Ms. Quinlan. How are you today?”
“I…well…I’m fine…Mr…Thomas.” The over-powering scent of sweet confection whipped candy scrambled her brain. “Thank you…for asking.” She felt another flush start when she realized her hand still hung in the air where it had been touched by his lips.
“I see you’ve met Edward.” Thomas folded oversized biceps across his wide chest. Today’s jumpsuit—a dreamy navy blue.
Quinlan bobble-head nodded. “My travel escort. I was just asking….” Quinlan bit her lip, not wanting Eddie in any more trouble. “How Eddie…I mean, Edward has been.” Navy blue, her new favorite color.
“I believe this fellow is making progress.” Thomas placed a reassuring hand on Eddie’s shoulder.
The young escort jumped as if he’d grabbed a live electrical wire.
Quinlan could relate.
“Chill, my man,” Thomas said. “Come on, relax.”
Eddie dropped his shoulders, rolled his head in a circular motion and jogged briefly in place.
“That’s better,” Thomas said. “And now, Ms. Quinlan. Can I help you with anything?”
Quinlan dove straight into the depths of handsome Mr. Clean’s brown eyes and couldn’t for the life of her remember why she was at the station building.
“Ms. Quinlan,” Thomas said, a smile playing around his mouth. “Are you alright?”
The fluffy cloud surrounding her brain popped
, breaking the lovely daydream her mind conjured. She fumbled through her pocket and pulled out her ID bracelet. “Third floor. Blue computer.” Quinlan dangled the bracelet. “Blue.”
“Very well,” Thomas said and then turned to Edward. “I’ll see if I can speed things up a bit with your glasses.”
Eddie pushed the safety goggles up on his nose. “Thank you, sir.” He took a step back, tripped over nothing in particular, and then exited the building.
Poor thing, Quinlan thought.
“Now, where were we?” Thomas asked.
Quinlan’s mind immediately reverted to her soap opera dream scene.
“Ah, yes. Third floor.” Thomas’s Shaq hand closed around her elbow and led her to the front desk. “Melody can help you from here.” He gave Quinlan’s elbow a slight squeeze and then walked away.
Entranced, Melody and Quinlan’s gaze followed the navy jumpsuit until it disappeared around a corner.
“Does he always smell like cotton candy?” Quinlan asked.
“It’s different with every woman I know.” Dreamy-eyed, Melody shook her head. “It’s Snickers for me.” She sighed. “Just sign here and you’ll be on your way. Elevators are around the corner.”
~~~
She pushed cotton candy and the navy jumpsuit out of her head and concentrated on the beaming floor indicator. It seemed to take forever for the glowing red three to ding. The doors parted and Quinlan shot through like a thoroughbred out of the gate at Belmont. Unlike the patina-splashed lobby, the third floor hallway was lined with thick red carpet. The rich dark-chocolate paneling eased her astigmatism-fear of plowing into a wall. An engraved placard mounted across from the elevator directed her to the library.
“Hello. You must be Quinlan.” A gentle-looking woman with beginning laugh-lines welcomed her at the library entrance.
Her Gracie urgency back intact, Quinlan grabbed the woman’s arm. “Blue, I need a blue computer.”
“I’m Bridget,” she said, patting Quinlan’s hand and then pried her fingers loose. “Follow me.”
Three computers, all different colors, lined the back wall of the library. Bridget walked to the blue computer and pulled out a swivel chair. “What do you think?”